She said, “They say—wait.”
“They’ve stopped, Boss. There’s—”
“What? What?”
“The Demon is here, Boss. With two bodyguards. He’s talking to the sorceresses. I can’t hear them from here.”
“Okay. So far, so good.”
“What are we going to do if they don’t want to talk?”
“Improvise.”
“Oh, good.”
“Not to worry. It’s the same thing we’re going to do if they do want to talk.”
“Oh. All right. That’s fine, then.”
“I am told,” said the sorceress who called herself Nisasta, “that they’ll speak with you if you disarm yourself.”
I laughed. “Oh, sure. That’s real likely. I’ll just walk with you into that house there, so I can be surrounded by a dozen sorceresses who all want to kill me, after giving up the one thing that might keep me alive. Do they have a second idea?”
“You think it will be enough to keep you alive? You should know there is now a teleport block over this entire area. No can gets in or out save by walking, and no one is close enough to help you.”
I shrugged. “I expected that when I put myself into this situation. We can dance if you want. You’ll probably get me eventually. How many of you will go down first, and what will happen when you do? You know what I carry.”
She barely nodded, and was silent again for a moment.
“They still aren’t moving, Loiosh?”
“Nope. Just standing there, Boss. Talking with the Demon. Shall I get close enough to—?”
“No. We wait.”
I briefly wondered why I felt so calm; then I became aware of the smooth, cool, reassuring feeling of Lady Teldra’s hilt in my hand, and stopped wondering. Would Telnan consider this cheating? I’d have to ask him if I got out of this.
“Are you willing to, at least, sheath it?”
I hadn’t expected that question, and I had to think about it. “If we talk out here, no. If we’re going inside, then I will, until something happens that makes me feel threatened. I react badly when I feel threatened. It’s a personality quirk.”
After a moment, she said, “Inside, then.”
I nodded. “After you.”
“Boss, you want to go inside?”
“Yes.”
“Why, for all the—”
“If spark comes to fire, I want them in a confined space.”
“But—”
“Not now, Loiosh.”
She set off toward the house. I sheathed Lady Teldra, not without some regret, and followed her. Loiosh flew over to me. Nisasta, as much as I could tell watching her from behind, flinched just a little when he flew past her. She looked back at him as he landed on my shoulder. I wasn’t calm anymore, which was good, because Telnan could no longer accuse me of cheating.
“Hey, Boss. How do you figure the odds that they’re going to try to kill you once we get inside.”
“Dead certain, more or less.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured, too.”
“Glad to know we’re in sync.”
“Yeah. Any idea how we’re going to get out of it?”
“Some vague ideas, yes.”
“Okay. Care to tell me why we put ourselves in this position?”
“It’s been our plan all along.”
“Oh. Well. All right then. And to think I was worried.”
The sorceresses, along with the Demon and his bodyguards, were about forty paces ahead of the one called Nisasta, who was just a few paces ahead of me. The group of them opened the door, entered, and vanished within. Nisasta reached the door and held it open for me. I gave a nod toward it. She shrugged, and walked in front of me.
“Want me to scout?”
“No. Stay with me.”
We stood in a wide entryway, with a hallway leading off to the right, an arch at the far end, a stairway next to the arch, and a door, presumably a closet, to the left. It looked pleasant and comfortable; the sort of place Jakoub might dream of buying. Or Sandor. The door swung shut behind me, from some sort of counterweight, or maybe a spell of some kind. It went “snick” with a sort of finality. I wondered how hard it would be to open it again.
“Boss, are we trapped?”
“No, they are.”
“Oh. All right, then.”
Nisasta looked back at me over her shoulder. “We’ll talk in here,” she said, and went through the arch.
“Last chance to run, Boss.”
“Oh, shut up.”
I walked through the archway like I hadn’t a worry in the world. 17. Palaczinta
Mihi came back to the table. He brought a bucket of ice on a stand, and in the bucket was a bottle I knew well. Mihi was all smiles. I think this was his favorite part; it was certainly right up there for me.
Dragaerans usually served a fruit at the end of a meal, but we Easterners like to serve a confection, or something sweet to finish off a meal. We call it “dessert” and no one does it better than Valabar’s. Mihi gave a slight bow, refilled our wineglasses, took a deep breath, and began speaking.
“Today, Mr. Malabar has prepared an apple cheesecake with a mild cinnamon sauce topped with powdered chef’s sugar and a finely ground pecan mix chocolate raspberry mousse cake in a chocolate shell sweetened with white sugar with jumpberry sauce and a selection of fresh berries vanilla-cinnamon custard lightly caramelized on top with brown sugar and a garnish of fresh fruit a six-layer dessert palaczinta consisting of a layer of rednuts ground to a fine powder a layer of sweetened chocolate a layer of raspberries a layer of walnuts ground to a powder and a layer of tartberries with a chocolate-brandy sauce dribbled on top.”
Telnan stared at Mihi. Mihi looked smug.
At last, Telnan said, “What?”
“No, no,” I said. “Don’t make him repeat it. My heart couldn’t take it. I’ll have the palaczinta.”
Telnan’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times.
“Bring him the mousse cake,” I said. “He’ll like that.”
“Uh, sure,” said Telnan.
Mihi nodded happily and walked off
A palaczinta is nothing more than a wafer-thin griddle cake, suitable for having preserves spread on it, or maybe butter and sweetened cinnamon, or to be rolled up with meat and baked. But at Valabar’s, they’d stack them in layers with a delightful assortment of things on each layer—and then slice it like a pie. It is a joy and a delight; it’s one of those things that makes life worth living.
I watched the sweat run down the side of the wine-bottle and waited for Mihi to return, meanwhile thinking pleasant thoughts.
He was back in a few short minutes. Holding a small white plate in his left hand, with another cradled in his left arm; from the expression on his face, you’d think he had not only prepared the delicacies, but had invented the whole concept of dessert. I’ve always liked Mihi.
The sitting room was dominated by a long, dark table, with ornate, high-backed wooden chairs placed all around it. They were all standing, waiting for me; the Demon stood in a corner, flanked by his bodyguards and staring off into space as if he were bored by the whole thing. There were six sorceresses in the room, all of them wearing some form of black and gray. One of the sorceresses said, “Sit where you please, Lord Taltos.”