Tiassa Read Free

myself.
    “What is it?”
    “We hired him yesterday, to have a talk with The Amazing Elusive Byrna.”
    Byrna was a young Jhegaala who was into me for a lot of money, and had missed several appointments to discuss his situation; I had told Kragar to find someone dependable to convince him to, if not pay his debts, at least be more reliable in meeting to talk about them. Reliability is one of the great virtues, I’ve always believed, and I like to encourage it in others when I can.
    “Well, and?”
    “He’s not dead,” said Kragar.
    I frowned. “Trotter got out of hand? That seems—”
    “I meant Trotter,” said Kragar, who I have no doubt encouraged the misinterpretation just to increase the shock value. Which worked, by the way.
    I sat back. “Okay, talk.”
    “I don’t know a lot. He came stumbling through the streets bleeding from four or five places and passed out from loss of blood. He’s with a physicker now.”
    “How does it look?”
    “He’ll probably live.”
    “So we don’t know Byrna did it?”
    “He was on his way there.”
    “Byrna isn’t a fighter.”
    “He can hire one.”
    “What good would that do unless he hired him long-term?”
    “Maybe he did that.”
    “If he could afford to hire a fighter long-term, he could pay me, so he wouldn’t need to hire one.”
    My familiar remarked into my mind, “Be sure to explain that to him.”
    I ignored him. Kragar spread his hands and said, “You know what I know.”
    “Find out more,” I said.
    He nodded and left without making any more wisecracks. Good. I didn’t need him to make any wisecracks. That’s why I have a familiar.
    Oh, right; you haven’t actually met my familiar. Pardon my rudeness. His name is Loiosh, and he’s a jhereg. If you don’t know what a jhereg is, you’re probably better off, but I can at least explain that it is a poisonous reptile with two wings, two eyes, two legs, and one form of wit: irritating. I guess he’s a lot like me, except I don’t have wings and I’m not a reptile. Well, maybe metaphorically. At this moment, he was sitting on my right shoulder, waiting for me to say something so he could make sarcastic comments about it.
    Of course, I obliged him. I said, “I can’t believe he’d hire a free sword.”
    “And of course, he can’t have any friends.”
    “Who are good enough to paint the wall with Trotter?”
    “I love it when you start theorizing before you know anything, Boss. It fills me with admiration.”
    I told him some things about him I admired, and he did that head-bobbing thing with his long, snakey neck that means he’s laughing. Usually at me.
    Of course, the alternative to bantering with my familiar was sitting there and worrying, since I had no intention of charging into anything without knowing what was going on. I’d done that before and come to the conclusion that it was a bad idea.
    So I sat there and waited and exchanged more comments with Loiosh; you don’t need the details. I didn’t, in fact, have to wait all that long.
    I have a secretary and bodyguard named Melestav. He poked his head in about an hour after Kragar left and said, “Message for you, Boss.”
    “From?”
    “Don’t know. Messenger service, paper message. Showed up, handed it over, left.”
    “Did you tip him?”
    “Of course.”
    My first thought was contact poison, but that’s just because I’m paranoid and had recently gone through an experience with someone who had caused me significant concern for my continued existence. But Melestav was holding it, and he wasn’t showing any signs of dropping dead; and contact poison, while it does exist, is rare, tricky, and undependable. Besides, no one wanted to kill me. As far as I knew.
    I took the message. The seal was a half circle with a jhegaala sinister facing a flower with three petals, and it meant Byrna. It was addressed to Vladimir of Taltos, House of the Jhereg; which isn’t exactly my name, but close enough. There was a very pretty