"But it all happened so fast."
"That is how these things happen, Vladimir. You see all your peasants smile and look sleepy and they say, 'Oh, this is our lot in life,' and then something happens and they all say, 'We will die to keep them from doing this to our chijdren.' All in a night it can happen, Vladimir."
"I guess so. But I'm frightened, Noish-pa. For them, and for Cawti."
"Yes, she still walks with these people. You are right to fear."
"Can they win?"
"Vladimir, why do you ask me? If soldiers come into my shop, I will show them how old I am. But I will not go looking for them, and so I know nothing of such things. Perhaps, yes, they can win. Perhaps the soldiers will crush them. Perhaps both at once. I don't know." "I have to decide what to do, Noish-pa." "Yes, Vladimir. But there is little help I can give you." We sipped tea for a while. I said, "I don't know, maybe it's good to have this problem. It means I don't have to worry about what's going to happen afterward." He didn't smile. "It is right not to worry now. But is it possible for you?"
"No " I said. I stared at my hands. "I know you don't approve of what I do. The trouble is, I'm not sure I approve of it anymore."
"As I told you once before, Vladimir, killing people for money is no way for a man to earn a living."
"But Noish-pa, I hate them so much. I learned that I used to be one, and I thought that had changed things, but it hasn't. I still hate them. Every time I come to see you, and smell the garbage in the streets, and see people who have lost their sight, or who have diseases that could be cured by the simplest sorcery, or don't know how to write their own names, I just hate them. It doesn't make me want to fix everything, like Cawti; it just makes me want to kill them."
"Have you no friends, Vladimir?"
"Hmm? Well, yes, certainly. What has that to do with it?"
"Who are your friends?"
"Well, there's—oh. I see. Yes, they're all Dragaerans. But they're different."
"Are they?"
"I don't know, Noish-pa. I really don't. I know what you're saying, but why do I still feel this hate?"
"Hate is part of life, Vladimir. If you cannot hate, you cannot love. And if you hate these elfs, then that is what you feel and you cannot deny it. But more foolish than this hate of elfs you have never met is to let it rule you. That is no way to live."
"I know that, but I—" I broke off as Amrus jumped into Noish-pa's lap, mewing furiously. Noish-pa frowned and listened.
^What's wrong?" I said.
'Be still, Vladimir. I don't know."
Loiosh returned to my shoulder. Noish-pa got up ano walked into the front of the shop. I was about to follow him when he returned, holding a sheet of white parchment. He took a quill pen from an inkwell, and with a few quick slashes drew a sideways rectangle. He dipped the pen again, not blotting it at all, and made sloppy signs in the corners. I didn't recognize the symbols.
"What is this?"
"Not now, Vladimir. Take this." He handed me a small silver dagger. "Cut your left palm." I did so, making a cut right next to the tiny white scar I'd made only two days before. It bled nicely. "Collect some blood in your right hand." I did that, too. "Scatter it onto the paper." He held the paper about three feet in front of me. I tossed the blood onto it, making an interesting pattern of red dots. Then he threw me a clean cloth to bind my hand up. I did, concentrating a little to stop the blood and begin the healing. I wished, not for the first time, that I'd troubled to learn basic sorcerous healing.
Noish-pa studied the red dots on the parchment and said, "There is a man outside, near the door. He is waiting for you to come out so he can kill you."
"Oh. Is that all? All right."
"You know how to find the back door."
"Yes, but Loiosh will be taking it. We'll handle this our way."
He looked at me through filmy eyes. "All right, Vladimir. But don't be distracted by shadows. Concentrate always on the target."
"I will," I said. I stood and drew my rapier. "I know how to make the shadows vanish."
Lesson Thirteen
ADVANCED SURVIVAL SKILLS
"Okay, Loiosh. You know what to do."
"What about Rocza?"
"She can wait with me, just in case."
We went into the back room, past the kitchen, and I let Loiosh out, then returned and stood waiting near the doorway, blade in hand. Rocza landed on my shoulder. She was heavier than Loiosh, but I was getting used to her.
"I don't see him yet, boss."
"No hurry, chum. Lots of places to hide out there the way things are packed togeth—"
"Got him!"
"Let me see. Hmmm. Don't recognize him."
"How should we play it?"
"Has he seen you?"
"No."
"Okay. Out the door, three steps, I'll take a left so we can get him away from the shop. I'll let him catch up a bit, you hit him when he starts to move, and I'll join you"
"Got it."
I put my sword away since I wouldn't be using it at once and kissed my grandfather good-bye. He suggested once more that I be careful, and I allowed as to how I would. I walked through the doorway, made a show of looking around, then headed to my left. "He's following." "Okay."
I scouted the area, looking for a place with enough people, but not too many. After about two hundred yards I found it. I slowed down, checked for an escape route or two, and finally stopped in front of a fruit stand and picked up an orange. I dug around in my purse for a coin. "Here he comes, boss."
I paid for the orange, took my dagger from my belt, cut the orange in half, and palmed the blade while looking like I'd put it away. I started sucking on a half.
"He's behind you, walking between a pair of humans. They aren't with him, so don't worry. He's getting close. He's got a weapon out ... now!"
I turned and threw the orange at him. At the same time, Loiosh struck at his knife hand and Rocza left my shoulder to attack his face with her talons. His knife hit the dirt of the street as he backed away. Loiosh got him turned around and I put my dagger in the middle of his back all the way to the hilt. He screamed and fell to his knees. I took another dagger out, grabbed his chin, slit his throat, and dropped the knife. Since he was now unable to scream, some local did it for him, and quite well, too.
I walked around the side of the fruit stall, careful not to make eye contact with anyone, and slipped between two buildings, where Loiosh and Rocza joined me. We zigzagged our way past a couple more streets, then went into a tavern, where I found water to clean orange and blood from my hands. I hate it when my hands are sticky.
We emerged into South Adrilankha midday, with gaggles of young men leaning against buildings surveying passersby, and tradesmen out in front of their shops eating. The standard meal seemed to be long loaves of bread which they dipped into something in a wooden bowl, while holding a bottle between their knees. As I relaxed a bit, since there seemed no sign of pursuit, I began to get the feeling that all was not normal here, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how.
"Can you figure out what it is, Loiosh?" "I'm not sure, boss. It's subtle." I continued walking, heading generally toward the area where Kelly's people had their headquarters. I noticed a group of a dozen or so Easterners, men and women, trotting past me. On their faces was a strange mixture of determination, confidence, and fear. No, not fear, maybe nervousness. Two of them had homemade pikes, one had a large kitchen knife, the others were unarmed. I wondered where they were going. For some reason, my heart beat faster. It seemed to fit in with whatever else I was unconsciously noticing.