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“That’s a Drag­on term. I nev­er use it.”

“Boss, won’t they fig­ure out that you want­ed them to iden­ti­fy you?”

“Maybe.”

“So, how is it that what you just did wasn’t stupid?”

“The busi­ness of con­vinc­ing your en­emies to do what you want them to is a tricky mat­ter, Loiosh. I wouldn’t ex­pect a jhereg to un­der­stand the sub­tleties.”

“I trust an ed­uca­tion in the sub­tleties will be­gin short­ly.”

“You’re start­ing to sound like Mor­rolan.”

I had to walk to the mar­ket to find a coach—a run-​down thing that found ev­ery rut and hole in the road. Served me right for lack of fore­thought, though. Things like not think­ing to have the coach wait­ing might seem small to you, but if I went ahead and ex­ecut­ed plans with­out see­ing to all the lit­tle de­tails, I was go­ing to make what was al­ready a tricky op­er­ation down­right im­pos­si­ble. I gave my­self a stern talk­ing-​to about it; my cracked rib and var­ious bruis­es em­pha­sized the point.

Kiera was, as promised, wait­ing in the court­yard. “Well?” she said.

“Well enough,” I said. “Maybe. Have to see.”

She frowned. “What did you do?”

“Start­ed a de­layed-​ac­tion ex­plo­sive spell.”

“Uh, let’s go up to your room.”

“I thought you’d nev­er ask.”

“What?”

“For­get it.”

I made my slow painful way to the room. I stretched out on the bed, Kiera took the chair.

“In­ter­est­ing noise,” she said.

“Hm­mm?”

“As you lay down. Some­where be­tween a groan and a sigh. I don’t think I’ve heard any­one do that be­fore. Are you sure you don’t want to be fixed up?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Un­less you have to move fast.”

“When have I ev­er need­ed to move fast?”

She didn’t even both­er to give me a look for that one. “What did you do?”

“I hired her.”

“To do what?”

“I need to know what’s go­ing on in a cer­tain lit­tle cot­tage in South Adri­lankha.”

“And that was the on­ly way to find out?”

“The best way, un­der the cir­cum­stances.”

“Why?”

“I’m try­ing to do two things at once.”

She nod­ded. “I once tried to steal two things at once. Want to hear what hap­pened?”

“On­ly if it worked.”

“I won’t talk about it, then.”

“There are two things go­ing on, Kiera. They’re prob­ably re­lat­ed, but I can’t know that.”

“Aliera’s pros­ecu­tion, and the ef­fort to set you up.”

“Right.”

“And the cot­tage in South Adri­lankha?”

“It’s a long shot, as far Aliera’s pros­ecu­tion, but it’s all I can come up with. My think­ing is this: If the Jhereg wants to blame the killing on one of these peo­ple, they’ll—”

“Wait. What?”

“The Jhereg is plan­ning to kill the Im­pe­ri­al in­ves­ti­ga­tor, a cer­tain De­saniek, and blame it on a group of East­ern and Teck­la rebels.”

“How did you put that to­geth­er?”

“When I asked Cawti if she were still giv­ing read­ing lessons, she said, ‘un­til late­ly,’ which got me to think­ing—nev­er mind. It’s a long sto­ry. The point is, if they want to kill the in­ves­ti­ga­tor, and blame it on this group of rebels, they’ll need to know what the group is up to. If I know what they’re up to, maybe I’ll be able to fig­ure out where they’ll move.”

She looked doubt­ful. “That doesn’t seem like­ly.”

“I agree, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“What about the oth­er rea­son? How does this help you get out of a set­up?”

“It might not, but if she takes the trou­ble to find out who I am, and I did ev­ery­thing but beg her to, it’s go­ing to stir up the Jhereg, and maybe throw them off their game.”

“That is re­al­ly thin.”

“Not as thin as you think. Some­thing un­ex­pect­ed hap­pens when you’re af­ter some­one, you slow down and make sure you know what’s go­ing on. All I need is for them to slow down long enough to let me fin­ish this busi­ness and get back out of town.”

“That is very thin.”

“Like the oth­er, it’s what I have. Do you have any bet­ter ideas?”

“This is big­ger than you seem to re­al­ize, Vlad.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Eh? It’s the Left Hand of the Jhereg, the Jhereg, and the Or­ca ma­nip­ulat­ing Im­pe­ri­al pol­itics. How much big­ger—?”

“No, what makes you think I don’t re­al­ize how big it is?”

“You aren’t act­ing as if you do.”

“Kiera, af­ter you’ve been in bat­tle with gods, you get to the point where the af­fairs of mere mor­tals—”

“Can you be se­ri­ous for two words?”

“Not with­out ef­fort,” I said.

“Ap­ply your­self.”

I shrugged. “What do you want from me? Okay, it’s se­ri­ous. It’s big. I get that. But I came back here to help Aliera. If you can show me a bet­ter way to do that, I’m lis­ten­ing.”

“I’ll nev­er un­der­stand this pas­sion you have for mak­ing your­self a tar­get.”

“It isn’t a pas­sion, it’s more of an av­oca­tion.” She start­ed to say some­thing, but I cut her off. “I didn’t cre­ate the sit­ua­tion, and no one was do­ing a damned thing about it, ei­ther be­cause they didn’t want to of­fend the Em­press, or be­cause they didn’t want to of­fend Aliera. You couldn’t fit the hair of a nors­ka’s tail on how much I care about of­fend­ing ei­ther one. There’s a prob­lem, I’m fix­ing it.”

“You’re stub­born, Vlad.”

“Is that a com­pli­ment?”

“Some­times. Usu­al­ly. Right now, I’m not sure. How can I help?”

“You prob­ably can’t, but I’ll let you know if some­thing comes up.”

She sighed, start­ed to say some­thing else, then just shrugged and left me with her Kiera smile and soft kiss on the cheek. I lay on my back and tried not to move too much, and even­tu­al­ly got some rest.

Iorich

15

Your High­ness: I ur­gent­ly re­quest an im­me­di­ate re­view of the en­tire Im­pe­ri­al prison sys­tem. With the sui­cide of Bryn our in­ves­ti­ga­tion—an in­ves­ti­ga­tion, Your High­ness, in­sti­gat­ed by the ex­press wish­es of Her Majesty—has been se­ri­ous­ly com­pro­mised. Per­mit me to urge Your High­ness in the strongest pos­si­ble terms to form a com­mit­tee of our own House and some of the more skilled Val­lista to see what can be done to make sure this doesn’t hap­pen again; it is hard­ly an over­state­ment to say that the hon­or of the House it­self is at stake. Any fur­ther event of this type and I will not an­swer for the com­mit­tee be­ing able to car­ry out its du­ties.

I Re­main, Your High­ness,

Your Loy­al and Re­spect­ful

Jus­ticer De­saniek

I woke up feel­ing still bet­ter. If this trend con­tin­ued, I’d be back in shape to fight in on­ly a month or so.

“Boss!”

That was when I re­al­ized what woke me up. “What is it?”

“Uh, this is weird. I’m hear­ing things.”

“Yeah, that’s what was sup­posed to hap­pen.”

“But, it’s weird.”

“It’s just for a day or two. Any­thing in­ter­est­ing?”

“De­pends how in­ter­est­ed you are in snor­ing.”

“Most­ly in­ter­est­ed in my own, but it’s too late for that, now.”

“Cry up a storm, Boss.”

I got up and slow­ly and painful­ly took care of morn­ing things. The plan for the day was, ac­tu­al­ly, to do noth­ing ex­cept to stay as safe as I could: there was noth­ing to do un­til and un­less I got some in­for­ma­tion from Loiosh, or un­til some­one made a move at me.