A good thing I
didn’t have any pages on me, too,” Sahra told me.
“The Greys started searching us going out. That woman Vancha
tried to steal a little silver oil lamp. She’ll spend all
morning tomorrow being ‘punished’ by Jaul
Barundandi.”
“Does Barundandi’s boss know what he
does?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“We could trick him into betraying himself. Get him tossed
out.”
“No. Barundandi is the devil we know. An honest man would
be harder to manipulate.”
“I loathe the man.”
“That’s because he’s loathsome. Not unlike
other men in similar positions of petty power. But we’re not
here to reform Taglios, Sleepy. We’re here to find out how to
release the Captured. And to torment our enemies when doing that
doesn’t jeopardize our primary mission. And we did a great
job of that today. The Radisha was crushed by our
messages.”
Sahra told me what she had discovered. Then I told her about my
own small triumph. “I got into the restricted stacks today.
And I found what I think might be the original of one of the Annals
we’ve got hidden in the Palace. It’s in terrible shape
but it’s all there and it’s still readable. And there
may be more volumes. I only got through part of the restricted
stack before I had to go help Baladitya find his slippers so his
grandson could lead him home.”
I had the book right there on the table. I patted it proudly.
Sahra asked, “Won’t it be missed?”
“I hope not. I replaced it with one of the moldy discards
I’ve been saving.”
Sahra squeezed my hand. “Good. Good. Things have gone well
lately. Tobo, would you find Goblin? I have an idea to run past
him.”
I said, “I’ll see how our guests are doing. Somebody
might be ready to whisper confidences in my ear.”
But only Swan wanted my ear and he did not have confidences in
mind. In his way he was as incorrigible as One-Eye, yet he had a
style that did not offend me. I do not think Swan had an evil bone
in him. Like so many people, he was a victim of circumstance,
struggling to keep his head up in the turbulence of the river of
events.
Uncle Doj was displeased with his circumstances even though he
was not a prisoner. “We can certainly get along without that
book,” I told him. “I doubt that I could read it,
anyway. Mostly I want to make sure it doesn’t get back to the
Deceivers. What we really need is your knowledge.”
Doj was a stubborn old man. He was not yet ready to make deals
or to look for allies.
Before I left I asked, “Will it all die with you? Will you
be the last Nyueng Bao to follow the Path? Thai Dei can’t if
he’s buried under the glittering plain.” I winked. I
understood Doj better than he thought. His problem was not a
conflict with his morality, it was a matter of control. He wanted
to do everything his way, no strings.
He would come around if I kept reminding him of his mortality
and his lack of a son or an apprentice. Nyueng Bao are famous for
their stubbornness but even they will not sacrifice all their hopes
and dreams rather than adjust.
I visited Narayan just long enough to offer a reminder that our
interest did not lie in harming him. But the only reason we had for
keeping the Daughter of Night healthy was our hope of his
cooperation. “You can be stubborn for a while yet. We have
several tasks to wrap up before you become our main interest and we
concentrate on murdering your dreams.”
That was my whole focus with each of our prisoners. Make them
put their hopes and dreams on the line. Maybe I could weasel my way
into history, as famous or infamous as Soulcatcher and Widowmaker,
as Stormshadow and Longshadow, remembered forever as the
Dreamkiller.
I had a vision of myself drifting through the night like Murgen,
disembodied but dragging along a bottomless bag of black night into
which I stuffed all the dreams I stole from restless sleepers. I
was a real old-time rakshasa, there.
The Daughter of Night did not look up when I went to view her.
She was in a cage Banh Do Trang used for keeping large animals of
the deadliest sort. Sometimes leopards, but mostly tigers. A fully
grown male tiger was worth a fortune in the apothecary market. She
was shackled as well. The cats never were. In addition, I believe,
a little opium and nightshade were used to season her food. Nobody
wanted to underestimate her potential. Her family had a dire
history. And she had a goddess on her shoulder.
Reason told me to kill her right now, before Kina wakened as
much as she could. That would buy me the rest of my lifetime free
of the end of the world. It would take the dark goddess generations
to create another Daughter of Night.
Reason also told me that if the girl died, the Captured would
spend the rest of time in those caverns under the glittering
plain.
Reason told me, after a moment watching her, that she was not
just ignoring me. She did not know I was there. Her mind was
elsewhere. Which was not a comfortable feeling at all. If Kina
could turn her loose, the way Murgen was
loose . . .
A good thing I
didn’t have any pages on me, too,” Sahra told me.
“The Greys started searching us going out. That woman Vancha
tried to steal a little silver oil lamp. She’ll spend all
morning tomorrow being ‘punished’ by Jaul
Barundandi.”
“Does Barundandi’s boss know what he
does?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“We could trick him into betraying himself. Get him tossed
out.”
“No. Barundandi is the devil we know. An honest man would
be harder to manipulate.”
“I loathe the man.”
“That’s because he’s loathsome. Not unlike
other men in similar positions of petty power. But we’re not
here to reform Taglios, Sleepy. We’re here to find out how to
release the Captured. And to torment our enemies when doing that
doesn’t jeopardize our primary mission. And we did a great
job of that today. The Radisha was crushed by our
messages.”
Sahra told me what she had discovered. Then I told her about my
own small triumph. “I got into the restricted stacks today.
And I found what I think might be the original of one of the Annals
we’ve got hidden in the Palace. It’s in terrible shape
but it’s all there and it’s still readable. And there
may be more volumes. I only got through part of the restricted
stack before I had to go help Baladitya find his slippers so his
grandson could lead him home.”
I had the book right there on the table. I patted it proudly.
Sahra asked, “Won’t it be missed?”
“I hope not. I replaced it with one of the moldy discards
I’ve been saving.”
Sahra squeezed my hand. “Good. Good. Things have gone well
lately. Tobo, would you find Goblin? I have an idea to run past
him.”
I said, “I’ll see how our guests are doing. Somebody
might be ready to whisper confidences in my ear.”
But only Swan wanted my ear and he did not have confidences in
mind. In his way he was as incorrigible as One-Eye, yet he had a
style that did not offend me. I do not think Swan had an evil bone
in him. Like so many people, he was a victim of circumstance,
struggling to keep his head up in the turbulence of the river of
events.
Uncle Doj was displeased with his circumstances even though he
was not a prisoner. “We can certainly get along without that
book,” I told him. “I doubt that I could read it,
anyway. Mostly I want to make sure it doesn’t get back to the
Deceivers. What we really need is your knowledge.”
Doj was a stubborn old man. He was not yet ready to make deals
or to look for allies.
Before I left I asked, “Will it all die with you? Will you
be the last Nyueng Bao to follow the Path? Thai Dei can’t if
he’s buried under the glittering plain.” I winked. I
understood Doj better than he thought. His problem was not a
conflict with his morality, it was a matter of control. He wanted
to do everything his way, no strings.
He would come around if I kept reminding him of his mortality
and his lack of a son or an apprentice. Nyueng Bao are famous for
their stubbornness but even they will not sacrifice all their hopes
and dreams rather than adjust.
I visited Narayan just long enough to offer a reminder that our
interest did not lie in harming him. But the only reason we had for
keeping the Daughter of Night healthy was our hope of his
cooperation. “You can be stubborn for a while yet. We have
several tasks to wrap up before you become our main interest and we
concentrate on murdering your dreams.”
That was my whole focus with each of our prisoners. Make them
put their hopes and dreams on the line. Maybe I could weasel my way
into history, as famous or infamous as Soulcatcher and Widowmaker,
as Stormshadow and Longshadow, remembered forever as the
Dreamkiller.
I had a vision of myself drifting through the night like Murgen,
disembodied but dragging along a bottomless bag of black night into
which I stuffed all the dreams I stole from restless sleepers. I
was a real old-time rakshasa, there.
The Daughter of Night did not look up when I went to view her.
She was in a cage Banh Do Trang used for keeping large animals of
the deadliest sort. Sometimes leopards, but mostly tigers. A fully
grown male tiger was worth a fortune in the apothecary market. She
was shackled as well. The cats never were. In addition, I believe,
a little opium and nightshade were used to season her food. Nobody
wanted to underestimate her potential. Her family had a dire
history. And she had a goddess on her shoulder.
Reason told me to kill her right now, before Kina wakened as
much as she could. That would buy me the rest of my lifetime free
of the end of the world. It would take the dark goddess generations
to create another Daughter of Night.
Reason also told me that if the girl died, the Captured would
spend the rest of time in those caverns under the glittering
plain.
Reason told me, after a moment watching her, that she was not
just ignoring me. She did not know I was there. Her mind was
elsewhere. Which was not a comfortable feeling at all. If Kina
could turn her loose, the way Murgen was
loose . . .