“Yeah. No, you’re right. That just might be the one number that might work for getting Cawti out of this jam.”
“It gives you a wedge, but how to use it—”
“Oh, that part I have worked out already.”
“Oh? Well, now you’ve gotten me interested. What’s the big plan?”
“That’s your other part.”
“Uh huh.”
“And at least one person is going to have to know you’re working with me.”
“Okay”
“And that isn’t going to be safe.”
“I got that part.”
“Okay. Set up a meeting with the Demon for me.”
He kept his face expressionless. “Are you going to kill him?”
“No.”
“I just ask because I’m sure he’s going to kill you.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you ... okay.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Yeah.”
“Not quite yet.”
“Oh?”
“We need to wait for things to ripple in.”
“You mean, for word to get out—”
“Yeah.”
He nodded. “Is this going to work?”
“Maybe.”
“Best shot, right?”
“Right.”
He grinned. “It’s good to be working with you again, Vlad.”
“I hope you’re still in a condition to say that in a couple of days.”
He nodded judiciously. “That would be good,” he said. “Oh, by the way ...”
“Hmm?”
“What do I get for this?”
“I’ll buy you a meal at Valabar’s.”
“Done,” said Kragar. 14. Brisket Of Beef
Telnan shook his head in wonder. “How can they make food this good?”
“It’s not actually all that difficult,” I said, “if you know how to make pepper-essence and you’re a genius.”
I’d just given him a small bite of my beef. He had the look on his face of a man who had just discovered that food can be sublime. Yeah, I knew that look, and I envied him his epiphany.
I communed with the brisket for a while, which left me too busy to be envious. A little later he said, “What is pepper-essence?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“If it goes into that, yes I do.”
“Melt a couple of spoonfuls of goose fat, stir in a few spoonfuls of powdered Eastern red pepper. Stir it, don’t let it burn. You get an intensified pepper flavor.”
“Oh. Yes, it’s very intense. It’s ...”
He groped for the word.
“Sublime,” I suggested.
“Yeah.”
They start with a brisket of beef. I don’t know exactly what connections they had, but it was better beef than my father was ever able to get. The sauce was built with onions, garlic, Eastern red pepper, salt, and just a little tomato. And then the pepper-essence with sour cream. That’s about it.
Amazing, isn’t it? That simple, that basic, for such an effect. There’s a moral in there, somewhere.
I made it back to South Adrilankha safely, and threaded my way through familiar streets, to Donner’s Court. There weren’t many people here, and the few who were, weren’t paying any attention to innocuous little Sandor.
“Boss, what are we doing?”
“Now is when I kill the Demon Goddess.”
“Now is when you reassure me you aren’t joking.”
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I said. “Don’t go too far.”
I drew Lady Teldra.
“Boss, what—”
I laid her blade flat against the top of the shrine.
Something ripped somewhere inside and outside of me, with a grinding sound and a feeling that wasn’t painful, but seemed like it should have been. There was a space of time of unknowable duration where I saw only a terrible bright blue, and as it faded, my right hand seemed to have turned into a golden shimmering spear, which resolved itself almost at once into just my hand, still holding Lady Teldra.
“Hello, Goddess,” I said.
It worked better than I’d expected: I was standing in her Halls, just as I remembered them, and she maybe four feet away from me; and Godslayer was naked in my hand. I could see her relax a little as she regarded me.
“I hadn’t known you could do that. I must be certain to seal that portal.”
“If you have the chance.”
“If you’d planned to kill me,” she said, “you wouldn’t have spoken to me.”
“It still isn’t too late.”
“I do not bargain with mortals.”
“Even mortals who have the power to destroy you?”
“Especially those.”
“How’s that policy worked out for you?”
“Mixed. Where is your familiar?”
“Back in the real world steering clear of your wrath.”
“Good plan. So, what put a burr under your saddle?”
“A what under my which?”
“Sorry. I still think of you as Fenarian. What put a notch in your blade?”
“Some memories have returned.”
“From where?”
“From wherever you stowed them.”
“I? You give me too much credit, Fenarian. Or too little.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve remembered that you’ve been messing with my head.”
“That wasn’t me—”
“You’re lying.”
“—exactly. And don’t call me a liar. And would you mind putting that thing down?”
“I’d rather keep her in my hand. I find her reassuring.”
“Even with that, I don’t believe you can harm me. Not here, not after giving me time to prepare. And in these few moments, I have had time to prepare.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t harm you. But while we consider the matter, let’s chat. I want to know what happened to my memories. To my thought processes. I want to know what you did to me, and why. And unless you feel like testing that ‘maybe’—”
“Taltos Vladimir, you cannot walk into the Paths of the Dead as a living man and expect to both retain all of the sensations you receive, and remain sane. I acted to keep you from going out of your mind.”
“There’s more to it than that, Goddess.”
“Some.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“You have a plan for me. Or I’m part of a plan involving something else, something too far-reaching for me to comprehend, and too sensitive to trust me with, and too important for me to risk.”
“That’s not impossible.”
“Tell me about it. Make me comprehend. Trust me with it. Take the risk. One of us has to take a risk. If you won’t, I will.”
She considered me the way I might consider a brisket of beef into which I was about to stick sharp things. She was taller than a Dragaeran, which meant much taller than me. Her features were angular, her hair dark and swept back, and there was an extra joint on each finger. Eventually she said, “I have said all I choose to say, and threats will not compel me to say more. Attempt to carry out your threat, and I will destroy you utterly. You are in my Halls, Easterner. Don’t make me show you what I can do.”
It was odd. I had this terrible anger in my belly. I wanted to see about that “maybe.” I wanted to in the worst way. I didn’t care if I got her, or she got me, I just wanted to start the show. But there was something else going on; something that kept the lid on. Something that kept my voice calm. Something that—
Something that was Lady Teldra.
As if from a distance, I wondered if I was glad or sorry she was there.
“You owe me, Goddess. I’m not sure what for, or how much, but you owe me.”
“That is a way of looking at it. There are others.”
“Goddess, there are stories among my people about you and the Jenoine.”
“What of them?”
“Would you treat me as they treated you? Or expect me to respond differently?”