“This is very good,” said Telnan after his first bite of the chicken.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, it is.”
We ate in silence for a while. I was communing with the chicken—the slight sting on the tongue, the surprise of the fungus, the way the hint of wine and the red pepper bounced off the shallots. Separate flavors, which suddenly come together in the mouth producing an amazing combination that isn’t inherent in any of the parts, but, after a few bites, you realize was there all along.
Whether Telnan was having the same joyful discovery, I couldn’t know. I decided I was glad he was there; it really is more pleasant to share a meal, even with a comparative stranger. And I’d certainly had less pleasant dinner companions. It occurred to me with a brief pang that I had never shared a meal with Lady Teldra, and now I couldn’t. I wondered if she were able to take vicarious pleasure.
“Do you think your weapon enjoys the meal, Telnan?”
“Hmmm?”
“I mean, you’re enjoying the meal, right?”
“Oh, yeah! This is great!”
“Well, you have this link to a weapon. Do you know if it can share any of the pleasure from—”
“Oh, I see.” He frowned. “I’ve never thought about it. Maybe. My communication with Nightslayer isn’t all that—”
“Nightslayer?”
“My sword is called Nightslayer.”
“What is the Serioli name for it?”
“Um ... I think it was something like—” He made a sound that, if it had been louder, might have made the staff think someone was choking to death.
“Okay. And that means what, exactly?”
“Sethra said it means something like, ‘Loci for different levels of energy from various phases of existence.’”
“Loci for different ... How did they get Nightslayer out of that?”
“Oh, they didn’t. I call her Nightslayer because I like how that sounds. You know, dangerous, and evil, and like that.” He grinned. Dangerous, and evil, and like that. “Okay.”
Which didn’t tell me if Lady Teldra were able to enjoy my enjoyment of the food. I hoped she could. Well, maybe someday I’d know.
I woke up fast the next morning. Not fast in the way I wake up when Loiosh screams a warning, or when I hear some sound that makes me reach for a weapon, but fast in the sense that I was instantly wide awake, thinking, “Today I’m done waiting. Today I can move. Today I can start to act.”
You see, it’s all about contrasts: I don’t usually get that excited just because I’m about to go charging into a situation where I might get sliced up into my component parts. And, to be sure, there was an element of fear in my belly. But after days of the sort of drudgery I despise it was such a relief to know that I was going into action at last, that I could almost understand how a Dragonlord felt before a battle, or a Dzur before a duel. Or, well, maybe I couldn’t, but I thought I could, and that’s almost as good.
“In a mood today, eh Boss?”
“A good mood, Loiosh. For the first time in longer than I care to remember.”
“I’m not sure I believe it. So, what are we going to do first?”
“Kill the Demon Goddess.”
After a moment, he said, “Boss, any other time, I’d say, ‘ha ha: But—”
“No, you can say ‘ha ha. We aren’t really going to put a shine on the Goddess—”
“Good!”
“—today.”
“Then what are we doing?”
I outlined the plan. He didn’t make any remarks about how stupid it was. Since every time in the past that he’d told me my plans were stupid I had survived, the fact that he liked this one gave me a moment’s pause. I put some things in a bag, slung the bag over my shoulder, and headed out.
For the first order of business, I went out into the morning and had myself a fresh, warm langosh from the cart down the road. I went into the inn across the street from it and drank a cup of mediocre klava. Don’t think I’m complaining about that klava, by the way—I enjoyed it thoroughly. Living without any klava at all was still fresh in my mind.
In any case, the langosh was magnificent.
I left the inn and walked around to the back.
“Loiosh, is—?”
“You’re clear, Boss. No one is watching.”
Sandor went into a neat little package behind a trash container, and Vlad was back for a few hours. Loiosh and Rocza appeared, waited, hovering uncomfortably with much flapping of wings until I had adjusted my cloak, and then landed on my shoulders.
“Good to see you, Boss.”
“It’s good to be back.”
I checked to make sure this and that were accessible and loose enough to get at, then said, “All right. Let’s do it.” Lady Teldra, her sheath slapping at my leg, almost seemed to agree.
It was a long walk to Falworth Square, most of the way to the Five Mile Bridge. The air was sweet with the ocean and no trace of the slaughterhouses.
“Always best to get killed on a nice day, eh Boss?”
“That’s more like it. I was missing your cynicism?”
At one point, I noticed that I was humming, and stopped.
Loiosh and Rocza took turns flying above me, circling, sometimes landing on my shoulder. I had the feeling that Rocza, too, was glad to be back with me. I was glad to have her back, too. I reached up and scratched under her chin.
“Okay, Loiosh. The action gets going on Falworth Hill.”
“I thought we were going to that place on Harmony.”
“We are. That’s first. But the action doesn’t start until we get to Falworth.”
“Oh. So I can nap through this first part?”
“Actually, you probably can. But just to be safe—”
“Right, Boss. So, what now?”
“Now we get to spend several hours bored out of our skulls.”
“I can hardly wait.”
I was right, too. I found the place easily enough, on Harmony about a quarter of a mile northeast of Six Corners, positioned myself across the street from Number Four, ducked into a shadow, and waited. Loiosh went around to the other door. He waited, too. About three hours and a little more, which is what you get when you start early in the morning.
“Check me on this, Boss: An Easterner, a little taller than you, clean-shaven, short blond hair, gold ring in his left ear, wearing a sort of short sword in a brown leather sheath?”
“That’s our man. Score one for the Irregulars. So he went out the back?”
“Yes, and he’s heading north.”
“On my way. Don’t lose him.”
“That’s not likely.”
I fell in about a hundred and fifty feet behind Josef. The streets curved too much for me to see him, but Loiosh was there. The guy’s first stop was useless to me—he just stood out on the street, talking to someone in a doorway. That was all right; I had plenty of time.
He headed off toward Ristall Market, which was no surprise. About halfway there, he stopped at a blacksmith shop.
“What do you think, Loiosh?”