“Thanks loads.”
At last Sethra said, “Death isn’t as simple and straightforward as you may think it is. She is dead, but her soul has been preserved. It’s been lost since the Interregnum, but we have located it, with your help, as well as the help of ... well, some others. Yesterday, it was finally recovered.”
“Okay, fine. Then why the trip to Deathgate Falls?” I had to suppress a shudder as I said the words.
“We need to have a living soul to work with, if not a living body. The body would be better, but the Necromancer can supply us with ... Well, never mind.” Her voice trailed off, and consternation passed over her face.
“There you go again,” I said. “First you say you have her soul, then you say—”
“The soul,” said Sethra Lavode, “isn’t as simple and straightforward as you may think it is.”
“Great,” I said. I’m not sure, but I think Chaz might have smiled a bit. “Well, okay, how did it end up in the staff?”
“It’s complicated. Loraan put it there, though. He found it right after the Interregnum, in a peasant’s field somewhere. Now—”
“How did you know what the staff looks like?”
She gave me a scornful glance. “I can manage elementary divination, thank you.”
“Oh. Well, excuse me for living, all right?”
“I might.”
“So what is the state of her soul at the moment?”
She was silent for a few moments. Then she said, “Have you ever had cause to use a Morganti weapon?”
I held my face expressionless. “Maybe.”
“In any case, you are familiar with them?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you aware that Morganti weapons cannot destroy the soul of someone who is already dead?”
“Hmmm. I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never had cause to go sticking Morganti weapons into corpses. It makes sense, though, I suppose.”
“It’s true. And yet the soul is still there, or else revivification would not be possible.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that.”
“And are you aware that sometimes the bodies of those highly respected by their House are sent over Deathgate Falls, there to walk the Paths of the Dead?”
“I’ve heard that, too.”
“So you can understand—”
“I understand that Easterners aren’t allowed to enter the Paths of the Dead, and that, in any case, no one except the Empress Zerika has emerged alive.”
“Both true,” said Sethra. “But those two facts, taken together, may indicate that an Easterner would be allowed to—”
“May?”
She hesitated. “I think it likely.”
“Great. And, for doing this, I get exactly what?”
“We can pay—”
“I don’t want to hear. Certain amounts of money are so high they become meaningless. Any less than that and I won’t do it.”
The two of them exchanged looks.
Morrolan said, “We’d very much like to convince you. It means a great deal to us, and there is no one else who can do it.”
“This conversation sounds really familiar.” I said. “You two had this in mind from the beginning, didn’t you?”
“We considered it a possibility,” said the Dark Lady of Dzur Mountain.
“And now you’re saying that you’ll kill me if I don’t do it.”
“No,” said Morrolan. “Only that we’ll be very grateful if you do.”
They were learning how to deal with me. This could be good or bad, I suppose. I said, “Your gratitude would be nice, but if I’m already dead—”
“I think you can survive,” said Sethra.
“How?”
“I’ve been there. I can tell you which paths to take and which to avoid, and warn you of dangers you are likely to encounter and how to protect yourself. That will leave you with only one danger, and I think the fact that you are an Easterner, who doesn’t belong there, will be enough to—”
“What danger is that?”
“From those who run the place. The Lords of Judgment.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. There was a sharp intake of breath from Chaz, who’d been standing in his usual position during the whole interchange. I said, “The Lords of Judgment?”
“You know,” said Sethra. “The gods.”
I noticed that the stiletto I’d stuck in the ground was vibrating, and I wondered what that meant. After a moment, I detected a low-pitched hum. I concentrated on it until I could pick out the beats.
Beats ...
Now, there was an idea.
I concentrated on the rhythm and held out my left hand, palm up. I concentrated on the humming and held out my right hand, palm up. I brought my hands together, turning them over so the palms met. Behind me, I felt Loiosh spreading his wings and collapsing them. My eyes closed as if of their own accord. I realized I was starting to feel fatigued, which frightened me, and I still had a great deal to do.
I don’t know which changed, but now the humming worked with the rhythm I’d established.
I wondered how I’d write this up in a spell book, if I ever chose to do so.
“Fine,” I said. “No problem. You mean I have nothing at all to worry about except a few gods? Well, in that case I don’t see how it could go wrong. Sure, sign me up.”
I was being sarcastic, in case it escaped you. I found myself glancing over at Chaz to see if he appreciated it, but I couldn’t tell.
Sethra said, “I don’t think it’s quite as gruesome as that.”
“Oh.”
Morrolan said, “Show him the staff.”
“I can see it from here,” I said, looking at it next to Sethra’s hand. Sethra ignored my comment and picked it up, held it out to me.
I said, “This person’s soul is in there?”
“Yes,” said Sethra. “Take it.”
“Why?”
‘To see if you feel anything.”
“What am I supposed to feel?”
“Perhaps nothing. You won’t know unless you hold it.”
I sighed and took the thing. Since she’d spoken about feeling something, I was very much aware of the smooth finish, and that the thing was slightly cold. I’d held it before, but I’d been rather busy at the time. It was a light-colored wood, probably diamond willow.
“Feel anything, Loiosh?”
“I’m not sure, boss. Maybe. I think so.”
Then I became aware of it, too. Yes, there was some sort of presence, seemingly dwelling at my fingertips. Strange. I was even getting a vague sense of personality; fiery, quicktempered. A Dragon, certainly.
Also, to my surprise, I felt an instant sympathy; I’m still not sure why. I handed the staff back to Sethra and said, “Yeah, I felt something.”
She said, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Will you do it?”
“Are you crazy? You’ve said no one except Zerika has—”
“I’ve also explained why I think you’ll live through it.”
I snorted. “Sure. All right, I’ll do it—if you’ll go along to protect me.”
“Don’t be absurd,” snapped Sethra. “If I could go, there would be no need for you in the first place.”
“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll take Morrolan.” I smirked, which I’m beginning to think is always an error when dealing with Dragonlords. I think I caught Chaz smirking, but I can’t be sure.
Sethra and Morrolan exchanged glances. Then, “Very well,” said Morrolan. “I agree.”
I said, “Wait a minute—”
Sethra said, “Morrolan, the Lords of Judgment won’t let you leave.”
“Then so be it.”
Sethra said, “But—”
I said, “But—”
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Morrolan told me. “We’d best get you back at once to prepare for the journey.”
Kiera the Thief s longish face was mostly concealed by a cowl as she towered over me, and her voice was low, not quite a whisper. “Hello, Vlad.”
“Thank you.”
She said, “So you know.”
“I know it must have been you who spoke to Nielar about me. Thanks.”
“I hope I’m doing you a favor,” she said.