Brust, Steven Vlad Taltos 04 Taltos

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small, clear vial with a dark liquid inside; perhaps an ounce. She said,
Can you hold this for me? I don t think it will be dangerous to you. It
is dangerous for me to hold it just now.
I studied the vial to see how breakable it was. It wasn t very. I said,
Sure. How long do you think you ll want me to hang on to it?
Not long. Twenty, thirty years maybe.
Huh? Kiera
Oh. Yes. I guess that is a long time to you. Well, perhaps it won t be
that long. And, as I say, it shouldn t be dangerous for you.
She handed me a small pouch on a cord. I slipped the vial into it and
put it around my neck.
I said, What s in the vial?
She paused, appearing to consider, then covered her head again. The
blood of a goddess, she said.
Oh. And, I don t think I ll ask.
I woke up the night after my altercation with Loraan feeling a peculiar
half-thought growing in the back of my head and realized that
someone was trying to reach me psionically. I woke up more fully,
saw that it was almost dawn, and allowed the contact to occur.
Who is it?
Sethra Lavode.
Oh. Yes?
We need your help.
Several remarks came to mind, but I didn t make any of them. Go
on, I said.
We d like to bring you here.
When?
Right away.
Mind if I break my fast first?
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That will be fine. Would you like us to have a bucket ready for you
to throw up in?
Bitch. I sighed. All right. Give me ten minutes to wake up and
become human.
What?
Become Eastern, then. Never mind. Just give me ten minutes.
All right.
I rolled over and kissed Szandi s neck. She mumbled something
incomprehensible. I said, I have to run. Help yourself to breakfast
and I ll see you later, okay
She mumbled again. I got up and took care of necessary things,
including wrapping the gold chain around my left wrist and putting
various weapons in place. Loiosh landed on my shoulder as I was
finishing.
What is it, boss?
Back to Dzur Mountain, chum. I don t know why.
I walked down to the street and around a corner and waited. Sethra
reached me again right on time, and then I was at Dzur Mountain.
I wondered about the vial Kiera had given me, holding what she
claimed to be the blood of a goddess. When I got back home, I took it
out of its pouch and studied it. It was dark and could have been blood
as easily as anything else, I suppose. I shook it, which was perhaps
foolish but no harm came of it. Yeah, maybe it was blood. Then again,
maybe not. I put the vial back in the pouch. I chose not to open it. I
wondered if I would ever learn the story behind why Kiera had it but
didn t want to hold onto it and couldn t sell it and like that. I realized
that it made me feel good to do something for her for a change.
I put it in a chest where I kept my few precious objects and didn t
think about it again for some time. I had other things to keep me
occupied. My grandfather had decided that, as part of my ongoing
training in witchcraft, it was time for me to acquire a familiar.
Ten minutes after I got there, I was deciding that I could come to like
Sethra, after all. They brought me straight into the library this time,
and, after giving me ten minutes to recover from the teleport, Chaz
showed up with hot, good klava (klava is a strange Dragaeran brew
made from Eastern coffee beans. It tastes like Eastern coffee but
without the bitterness). She had thick cream and honey to put into it,
and hot biscuits with butter and honey. Morrolan and I sat around
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eating and sipping for a good, long while. Chaz stood behind Sethra,
occasionally eating bits of the crumbs off the tray and flicking his eyes
around the room.
I studied Morrolan because he still fascinated me. He seemed to be
working to keep any expression off his face, which probably meant
that he was pretty concerned about something. I speculated idly but
came up with no good guesses, so I concentrated on eating and
drinking.
I have to say I was quite surprised by the food and even more
surprised, and pleased, when the servant brought Loiosh a fresh dead
teckla. He presented it to me and indicated Loiosh with a sort of half-
flick of his head, as if he thought I might not know for whom it was
intended. He set the tray down, and Loiosh started in on it, displaying
his best table manners. Neither Sethra nor Morrolan seemed put off
at eating with him.
These people are okay, boss.
I was just thinking that.
What shocked me even more, however, was the sight of Lord
Morrolan, wizard and witch, duke of the House of the Dragon, licking
honey off his fingers. It s a shame Dragaerans don t have facial hair,
because Morrolan ought to have had a black goatee to get honey in.
If the whole thing was a scheme to put me in a better mood for
helping them, I can only say it worked. I found it, at least, far
preferable to the last idea they d come up with. When the bowls of
warm water with the steamed towels came around, I was pretty much
willing to listen to any crazy idea they d come up with.
It was plenty crazy, too.
The spell to acquire a familiar is as old as witchcraft, and has as many
variations as there are types of familiars and families of witches. It is
a simple spell by the standards I m used to, but has some risks beyond
those inherent in performing any ritual to which you are committing
your mental energy. For instance, it meant wandering alone through
the jungle. I d asked my grandfather why I couldn t simply find one of
the jhereg that fly about the city, and he asked me if I d ever seen any
of them close up.
My grandfather gave me a pack and stern lectures on what to put in it,
and only general comments on hazards to avoid. I asked him why he
couldn t be more specific, and he said it was because he didn t know.
That scared me. I said, Are you sure this is safe, Noish-pa?
He said, Of course not, Vladimir. I will tell you that it has much
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danger. Do you wish to not do it?
Ummm, no. I guess I ll go ahead with it.
Then I spent many hours in study of the wildlife of the jungles west of
Adrilankha. I think my grandfather knew I d do that, and, in fact, that
was why he d phrased things the way he did. I learned a great deal as a
result. The most important thing was to study carefully anything that
might hurt you.
This lesson has held me in very good stead.
Wait a minute, I said. Start over. Just exactly why am I supposed
to pack up and trundle off to the Paths of the Dead?
Remember how you felt the first time you buckled on a sword and
went stomping around town? Remember the scabbard clanking
against your leg? Remember touching the hilt with your off hand
every now and then, just to reassure yourself it was there? If you ve
never done it, try to imagine the feeling. There s nothing quite like it;
a little voice in the back of your head goes, I m dangerous now. I
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