“And the friend’s name?”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. She rested her hands on top of her head, leaned her head back, and rolled her eyes straight up. We sat there, hardly daring to breathe. Suddenly she straightened up. “Vlad, it was Baritt!”
Why, I wondered, doesn’t this surprise me?
I shook my head. “If you people want to find out what Baritt knows about this, I can tell you where to find him, but don’t expect me to go along with you. I’ve been to Deathsgate once; that will last a lifetime—at least. I’ve got my own problems. There’s a guy who’s trying to send me there. Figuratively speaking,” I added. “I understand they don’t allow Easterners in.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “Sethra, do you remember who the Lyorn was?”
“I never knew,” she said. “My part of it was over, and I wanted nothing more to do with it. I wasn’t along when they did the second scan.”
“Oh. So I suppose you don’t know who the Athyra was, either.”
“Right.”
“It’ll all be in the records,” Aliera put in. “We can find out.”
I nodded. “Then I don’t think there’s anything more to do about this at the moment, right?”
There were nods from Sethra, Aliera, and Morrolan. Norathar and Cawti had been watching us the entire time without any expression. It occurred to me that it was odd for me to have taken the lead in this investigation into the history of the House of the Dragon. But then, in a certain sense, investigation is one of the things I’m good at. Cawti could have done it as well, but she had even less interest than I did.
“The next question,” said Morrolan, “is how we’re going to present this to the Dragon Council. I would suggest that Aliera and I appear before them and—”
Aliera interrupted. “Perhaps later would be better for this. It’s really a matter to be discussed among Dragons.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence; then Cawti stood up. “Excuse me,” she said. “I believe that I’d like to retire now.”
Sethra stood and bowed an acknowledgment as Cawti left. Then Sethra sat down again, and Morrolan said, “I wonder what troubles her?”
Typical.
“The end of a partnership,” Norathar said, and it seemed that there were new lines of pain around her eyes and jaw. But then, she was a Dragonlord now, so she could show her feelings. She stood, bowed, and followed Cawti out of the room.
I followed them with my eyes, then glanced at the table. The food was cold and the wine was warm. If there had been an onion, it would have been rotten clear through.
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Eleven
“A quick game, boss?”
They left me alone at the table, so I thought about onions for a while. I was still thinking about them when I felt someone reaching for me psionically.
“Who is it?”
“Fentor, at Castle Black, milord. I have the information you wanted.”
“On the riot? Good, let’s have it.”
“It was confined to three blocks, near—”
“I know where it was. Go on.”
“Yes, milord. It was a row of flats, all owned by the same person. He’d started raising rents about four weeks before, and letting things deteriorate, and then began beating Easterners who were slow in paying.”
“I see. Who owned the flats?”
“A Jhereg, lord. His name is—”
“Laris.”
“Yes, milord.”
I sighed. “Had he owned the property for long?”
There was a pause. “It didn’t occur to me to check, lord.”
“Do so. And find out who he bought it from.”
“Yes, milord.”
“Is there anything more?”
“Not yet, milord, but we’re still working on it.”
“Good. Another thing, too: I suspect someone triggered the riot deliberately. Try to find out.”
“Yes, milord.”
We broke the contact. The conversation made me realize, among other things, that I’d been neglecting my own affairs again. I got in touch with Kragar and told him to expect me in two minutes. Then I made contact with Sethra, explained that I had to leave, and would she be good enough to teleport me back to my office? She would and did.
I didn’t have to tell her where it was, either. Sometimes I wonder about her.
Kragar was waiting for me, along with Glowbug and someone I didn’t recognize. We went into the still-unrepaired building, and I told Kragar to come into the office with me, I shut the door, looked around, and didn’t see him. I opened up the door again and said, “Kragar, I said to—”
“Boss?”
I turned, and saw him this time.
“Damn it, Kragar, stop doing that.”
“Doing what, Vlad?”
“Never mind. Cut it out, Loiosh.”
“I didn’t say a thing, boss.”
“You were laughing up your wing.”
I sat down and put my feet up on the desk. “Who’s the new guy?”
“An enforcer. We need another one, and we can almost afford it. He knows he’s staying on subject to your approval.”
“What’s his name?”
“Stadol.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s called ‘Sticks.’ ”
“Oh. So that’s Sticks.” I yelled, “Melestav, send Sticks in.”
The door opened and he walked in.
“Sit,” I told him.
He did.
Sticks might have gotten his name because he looked like one, but that can be said of almost all Dragaerans. Still, he was taller and thinner than most, and carried himself as if every bone in his body were jelly. His arms swung easily when he walked, and his knees sagged a bit. He had sandy hair, straight, and worn to his ears. One lock dangled over his forehead and looked like it would get in his eyes. He periodically threw his head to the side to clear it, but it flopped down almost right away.
In fact, the nickname came from his preference for using two three-foot clubs. He beat people up with them.
I said, “I’m Vlad Taltos.” He nodded. “You want to work for me?”
“Sure,” he said. “The money’s good.”
“That’s because things are hot right now. You know about that?”
He nodded again.
“You ever ‘work’?”
“No. No future in it.”
“That’s debatable. I’ve heard of you doing some muscle a few years back. What have you been doing since?”
He shrugged. “I have some connections with a few minstrels, and with some taverns. I help introduce them, and they give me a percentage. It’s a living.”
“Then why leave it?”
“No future in it.”
“ . . . Okay. You’re in.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s it for now.”
He made a slow climb to his feet and ambled out. I turned back to Kragar. It took me a moment to find him, then I asked him: “Anything new?”
“No. I’m working on the patron angle, but I haven’t come up with anything.”
“Keep on it.”
“Right.”
“Get Narvane and Shoen here.”
“Right.”
He got hold of them and we sat back to wait. While we were waiting . . .