I waited.
He came out of the door again, bowed stiffly again, and said, “She will see you now. The doorway at the end of the hall.”
He stood aside, and I went past him through the open door. I felt uncomfortable as I did, like he was going to bash my head in when I went through. He didn’t, though.
There was a short hallway with a closed door to the side, and another door in front of me. This one was open, so I entered.
She was of middle years for a Dragaeran, say a thousand or so, and dressed in the gray and black of the Jhereg. She was sitting behind a desk looking business-like, and she rose as I entered. Nothing in her expression indicated she might know me, although that was hardly proof.
“May I be of service?” she said, with barely concealed distaste. Now, she was an aristocrat.
“I seek knowledge, O wise one.”
She frowned. “Are you mocking me?”
“Yes, but only in a friendly way.”
She sat down again, looking at me through narrowed eyes. “I’m not your friend. Do you have business for me, or don’t you?”
“I do. I’m after information, there may be some spells to prevent eavesdropping.”
She nodded. “Go on. What are the specifics?”
That set off all sorts of alarms in my head. Was she expecting me to ask her to commit a crime, just like that? I mean, maybe the Left Hand did that sort of thing, but, if so, how did they stay in business?
I looked her in the eye. “I beg your pardon?”
“Before I can accept, I have to know who you want to listen in on. I’ll need to get a dispensation from the Justicers.”
“Naturally, I wouldn’t want you to do anything illegal.”
“Naturally.”
“So of course, you have to go through the court proceedings.”
“Yes.”
“I assume there are special fees for the advocate?”
“That is correct.”
“How much.”
“One hundred.”
“That’s a lot,” I said.
“Yes.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll give you a draft on Harbrough.”
She nodded. She’d certainly know Harbrough: he didn’t use names, which made him very popular among the Jhereg—both sides, presumably—and was the reason I still had money available.
She passed over pen and ink and blotter, and I wrote out a standard dispensation then passed it to her. She studied it carefully, I imagine sending the image to someone who’d make sure the funds were there to cover it.
“All right,” she said. She moved the draft to a place between us and put the inkwell on it; there seemed to be something almost ritualistic about the act, although maybe my talk with Kiera had me imagining things. Then she bowed her head. “What’s the job?” All business; just like the Jhereg.
“What if I said Sethra Lavode?”
She snorted. “I’d give you your draft back and point you to the Nalarfi Home.”
“Just making sure you didn’t belong there.”
“Yes, there are things I won’t do. Quit wasting my time. What’s the job?”
“There is a house at number eleven Enoch Way in South Adrilankha—”
“Are you jesting?”
“Why would I be?”
“You think a house in South Adrilankha has protections against eavesdropping?”
“I don’t know that they do, but they might.”
“They have the resources for that?”
“If they’ve gotten support from tradesmen, functionaries, or any of the minor nobility.”
“And what makes you think they have?”
“It’s a possibility. I’ll pay to hear what’s going on in there. If there’s no protection from eavesdropping, then so much the easier for you.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “All right.”
“Uh, how does this work?”
“How does what work?”
“How will I know what’s said?”
She looked disgusted. “How would you like to know?”
“I’d like to be able to listen myself, but I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Why not?”
“Try casting a listening spell on me, and see what happens.” Her eyes narrowed, and her right hand twitched, and she said, “Phoenix Stone?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you aren’t willing to remove it—”
“I’m not.”
“Then we can provide you a summary, or a transcript.”
“How long does that take?”
“You can have it within a day.”
“Boss—”
“Is there any way you can, uh, have my familiar listen instead of me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
I opened my cloak. Loiosh poked his head out, then climbed up to my left shoulder; followed by Rocza, who climbed up to my right. I smiled apologetically.
“See, Boss, you could have saved us all a lot of trouble if—”
“Shut up.”
“I’m not sure what you are asking me to do.” She looked like I had offered to share my meal of fresh worms with her.
“Loiosh is fully self-aware, and trained to, well, if you can manage to connect him to the spell, he can tell me what’s said.”
She didn’t much like the idea, but I pulled out my purse and set a nice stack of imperials in front of her. Money that clinks and glitters always has more of an effect than money that exists only in theory.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll need to, ah, to touch him.”
“Ewwww,” said Loiosh.
“Yeah, well.”
Aloud I said, “How long will this last?”
“If he is aware enough to accept the spell, it will end when he wants it to, or it will fade on its own over the course of the next year or so.”
“All right.”
Loiosh flew down onto her desk in front of her; she almost managed not to flinch.
“Oh, one thing,” I said.
She had started to reach toward him; now she stopped. “Yes?”
“If anything you do causes him any harm, there is no power in the world that will keep your soul safe.”
“I dislike threats. If you don’t want—”
“I just had to make sure you were informed.”
She shrugged. I really don’t make threats very often, so I resent it when I do make one and it doesn’t impress the threat-enee. But to the left, that’s probably why I don’t make many.
Her hand was steady when she put three fingers on his back.
“I need a bath.”
“Feel anything?”
“Sorcery, pretty mild.”
“All right.”
“You should begin to get sound by morning.”
“All right. Be careful, the place is being watched.”
“By whom?”
“The Jhereg. That is, the Right Hand, if you will.”
She snorted. “That won’t be a problem.”
“All right,” I said. “Anything else?”
“Yes. One question: Who are you?”
“You think I’m going to tell you?”
“You think I can’t find out?”
“If it means that much to you, feel free,” I said. Then I turned on my heel and left.
The gentleman who sold cloth ignored me as I left, and I gave him the same courtesy, though it wasn’t a deliberate snub on my part—I was busy asking myself why I hadn’t thought to have the coach wait. Loiosh, as was his custom, wasted no time. “So tell me, Boss, if the whole idea was for her to be able to identify you, why couldn’t we be there?”
“It would have made it too obvious that I wanted to be identified.”
“So, instead, it just matters that you walk into one of the businesses of people who are trying to kill you? Is this what you call high strategy?”