The Book of Jhereg Read Online Free PDF Page B

name?) who’d been mugged. It had gone well enough, though I had had to work to avoid bursting out laughing from my trusty jhereg familiar’s constant psionic appeals of “Aw, c’mon, boss.
Please
can’t I eat him?” I have a nasty familiar.
    I kept a tight control on the amount of wine I was drinking—the last thing I needed right now was to be slowed down. I flexed my right ankle, feeling the hilt of one of my boot-knives press reassuringly against my calf. I nudged the table an inch or so away from me, since I was sitting in a booth and couldn’t position my chair. I noted the locations of the spices on the table, as objects to throw, or things to get in the way. And I waited.
    Five minutes after the hour, according to the Imperial Clock, I received a warning from Loiosh. I set my right arm crosswise on the table, so that my hand was two inches away from my left sleeve. That was as close as I wanted to come to holding a weapon. A rather large guard-type appeared in front of my table, nodded to me, and stepped back. A well-dressed Dragaeran in gray and black approached and sat down opposite me.
    I waited for him to speak. It was his meeting, so it was up to him to set the tone; also, my mouth was suddenly very dry.
    “You are Vladimir Taltos?” he asked, pronouncing my name correctly.
    I nodded and took a sip of wine. “You are the Demon?”
    He nodded. I offered wine and we drank to each other’s health; I wouldn’t swear to the sincerity of the toast. My hand was steady as I held the glass. Good.
    He sipped his wine delicately, watching me. All of his motions were slow and controlled. I thought I could see where a dagger was hidden up his right sleeve; I noticed a couple of bulges where other weapons might be in his cloak. He probably noticed the same in mine. He was, indeed, young for his position. He looked to be somewhere between eight hundred and a thousand, which is thirty-five or forty to a human. He had those eyes that never seemed capable of opening to more than slits. Like mine, say. Kragar was right; this was an assassin.
    “We understand,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, “that you do ‘work.’”
    I kept the surprise off my face. Was I about to be offered a contract? From the Demon? Why? Perhaps this was just an effort to get me off my guard. I couldn’t figure it. If he really wanted me for something, he should have gone through about half a dozen intermediaries.
    “I’m afraid not,” I told him, measuring my words. “I don’t get involved with that kind of thing.”
    Then, “I have a friend who does.”
    He looked away for a moment, then nodded. “I see. Could you put me in touch with this ‘friend’?”
    “He doesn’t get out much,” I explained. “I can get a message to him, if you like.”
    He nodded, still not looking at me. “I suppose your ‘friend’ is an Easterner, too?”
    “As a matter of fact, he is. Does it matter?”
    “It might. Tell him we’d liked him to work for us, if he’s available. I hope he has access to your information sources. I suspect this job will require all of them.”
    Oh, ho! So that’s why he’d come to me! He knew that my ways of obtaining information were good enough that even he would have trouble matching them. I allowed myself a little bit of cautious optimism. This just might be legitimate. On the other hand, I still couldn’t see why he’d come personally.
    There were several questions I very badly wanted to ask him, such as, “Why me?” and “Why you?” But I couldn’t approach them directly. The problem was, he wasn’t going to give me anymore information until he had a certain amount of commitment from me—and I didn’t feel like giving him that commitment until I knew more.
    “
Suggestions, Loiosh?
”
    “
You could ask him who the target is
.”
    “
That’s exactly what I don’t want to do. That commits me
.”
    “
Only if he answers
.”
    “
What makes you think he won’t answer?
”
    “
I’m a