“Just a minute.”
He closed his eyes for about a minute, then said, “I wouldn’t go out the front, Vlad.”
“Someone waiting?”
“My people didn’t see anyone, but said they can’t promise anything. Too much street traffic.”
“Oh. If there is someone waiting, the back will be covered, too.”
“Yep. Take the tunnel.”
“Excellent. Good. Perfect. What tunnel?”
“I’ve made some changes.”
“Why? I mean, why you of all people? You could walk out the front door and no one would notice.”
“I figured you might be back, and I know you aren’t teleporting much these days.”
“So you put in a tunnel?”
“Just a short one.”
“Where does it come up?”
“Behind the haberdasher’s just this side of Malak Circle.”
“Okay. Where does it start?”
“There was the room in the basement where an ancient people used to practice their heathen rites.”
“My lab?”
“I had no use for it.”
“I guess not. All right, lead the way.”
“Oh, Vlad—”
“Hmmm?”
“Nice boots.”
He lit a lantern and led the way down the stairs and into the basement. The musty smell and the feel of the dirt floor brought back a lot of memories. Most of my old gear was gone, but the brazier was still there, on its side up against the far wall. I didn’t see any doorway, so I looked a question at him.
He smirked and gave one of the sconces on the wall a twist. Nothing changed, but I heard a faint “click.”
“A secret entrance with a hidden passage with a secret latch,” I remarked. “I don’t hardly believe it.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
“Did you go all the way and kill the builders?”
“I forgot that part.”
He went over to the middle of the left-hand wall and gave it a push. It swung open without a sound. He led the way. It was narrow—just barely room to walk forward—but tall enough that Kragar didn’t have to stoop. The walls looked finished, probably with tile, and his boots went clack against the floor. When I spoke, there were echoes.
“You left the basement floor dirt, but put a floor in this?”
“Well, when you turned things over to me, I had all this money I didn’t know what to do with.”
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I shut up and followed the dancing light of the lantern he held. It seemed like a very long walk.
The tunnel didn’t branch, but led straight to a stairway, which ended in a narrow door. Kragar put his face against it.
“A peephole?” I said.
“Of course.”
He pulled on a rope that hung from the ceiling, and the door opened.
He stepped out, looked around, and nodded to me. Loiosh left my shoulder and flew out, then I followed. There was no one there.
“Thanks, Kragar.”
“Good luck, Vlad.”
I took the Stone Bridge back to South Adrilankha, feeling very exposed and vulnerable during the walk, although Loiosh and Rocza were alert to anyone even glancing at me. It was around the seventh hour when I reached the Six Corners district. I made my way to Stranger’s Road and found the same observation point I’d used before.
“Okay, Loiosh. See what’s up.”
“On my way, Boss.”
I slid back behind the corner of the building, reassured by Rocza’s weight on my shoulder.
“Nothing yet, Boss.”
“Be patient. If they noticed before, they’ll have to notice now.”
“Oh, I’m patient. How ’bout you?”
“Going crazy.”
“That’s what I figured. Uh, Boss? Mind telling me what happens when they spot you? Or is it a secret?”
“It’s a secret. I can’t trust you not to pass on the information to the Empire.”
“Right. Did it occur to you that the Empire doesn’t much care if they kill you?”
“The Empress likes me. If they get me, I’m sure she’ll wear something white. At least for the afternoon.”
“That’s a great consol—someone’s coming out.”
My stomach turned over.
“Okay.”
“Boss, can’t you just tell me generally what we’re going to do?—”
“We’re going into the house.”
“Going in? What—”
“I have a plan, Loiosh.”
“How are we getting out alive?”
“The plan doesn’t extend that far. What is the sorceress doing?”
“She’s looking around.”
“Okay”
“Should I stay here?”
“Yes. Keep watching.”
“Someone else has joined her. They’re talking. Should I get close enough to listen?”
“No. Stay where you are.”
“A third one, now.”
I took a deep breath, and sent Loiosh a mental nod.
“Three of them, Boss. Just standing on the porch.”
“All right.”
Rocza squeezed my shoulder. I turned around, and there was a sorceress behind me, about ten yards away, dressed in black and gray, holding a dagger. If the dagger wasn’t enchanted, I’d eat my new boots. I wanted to draw Lady Teldra so badly I could feel my hand twitching.
“Took you long enough,” I told her. “I’ve been standing here for most of an hour.”
Her grip on the dagger tightened in a way that looked like she might be about to do something with it, so I drew Lady Teldra, holding her in front of me. The dagger the sorceress was holding moved in a small circle. Lady Teldra glowed a little and I felt a tingle run up my arm. That’s all.
“Now, now,” I said. “No need for unpleasantness.”
Her expression didn’t change, but I got the feeling she didn’t know exactly how to handle this turn of events. Or maybe Jhereg banter was exclusive to the Right Hand. I badly wished to know what spell had been cast at me. She had long limbs, rather light hair, and deep-set eyes. She carried herself with a relaxed ease.
“I’m Vlad,” I told her. “You?”
“I’m not,” said the sorceress.
“I didn’t actually think you were. Feel like telling me your name?”
“Why? Can you use it in an enchantment?”
Okay, so Jhereg banter crossed the line to the distaff side. “Probably not,” I said. “I’m willing to try, though, if you wish.”
“They usually call me Nisasta, which I was once told means ‘seeker of truth’ in some language or another.”
“They’re walking toward you, Boss.”
“All right, Nisasta. Before your friends get here and I have to work up a sweat, how about if we just agree to have a peaceful conversation.”
“You killed—”
“Yes, I did. How about my proposal? Your friends are getting closer, and if it looks like I’m going to be outnumbered, I’ll have to do something about it.”
Lady Teldra had taken the form of a short, very nasty-looking triangular dagger. I let her bounce a little in my hand. She felt solid and useful. Nisasta avoided looking at her.
“How close are they?”
“About thirty paces.”
“Decide,” I said. “Talk, or slaughter. I don’t much care.”
She still didn’t look at Lady Teldra. I was impressed; that can’t have been easy.
“It isn’t my decision to make,” she said finally.
“Then you’d best speak to whoever’s decision it is. Fast.”
She nodded, and her brows furrowed a little; she didn’t close her eyes. That can’t have been easy, either; closing your eyes when speaking to someone psychically is instinctive.