Tiassa (5 page)

I shook my head. “Can’t do it. Not my kind of thing. But I could make a suggestion.”

“If your suggestion is the Left Hand, I tried that.”

“Oh. You’re well informed. Sorry it didn’t work. What happened?”

“They were willing to do it. For thirteen orbs for each imperial.”

“That’s what they wanted?”

“Yes.”

I shook my head. “It’s like highway robbery.”

“That’s very funny, Lord Taltos.”

“Why thank you, Lord Blue.”

Ibronka glared at me a little, then looked away as if I wasn’t worth her time.

“I liked it, Boss.”

“Thanks, Loiosh.”

He said, “So the Left Hand is out of the question. If you don’t want to get involved in this, do you have any suggestions for who might?”

“Let me think about that.”

“I’d be willing to pay for any idea that—”

“Let’s not worry too much about the paying part. Let me just try to think of something. Hey.”

“What?”

“Why am I doing the thinking? You’re the Tiassa.”

He rolled his eyes; I considered myself answered.

Did I know anyone who’d be interested in a deal like that? No one I’d want to give it to, at any rate. But it was an interesting exercise, trying to figure a way around it.

“Boss? Do you care?”

“Let’s say I’m intrigued.”

“If you say so.”

“Any idea who came up with this?”

“Some Imperial sorcerer. There were complaints about the safety of the roads, you know.”

“See how it is?” I said. “As soon as you get good at something, they move to cut you off. It’s as if they fear anyone being successful. I sympathize.”

“Uh huh.”

“The Tiassa isn’t doing his job, Loiosh. So if anyone’s going to come up with a brilliant idea, I guess it’ll have to be you.”

“I’ll get right on that, Boss.”

“How does it work, exactly?”

“It’s pretty straightforward. It takes a few seconds to do a bagful of coins, and an hour with each one to undo it.”

“Sort of cuts into your profits.”

“Exactly.”

“What if you spend it a long way from where you got it? Every merchant in the Empire isn’t checking.”

“I’ve been doing a bit of that. But more of them are starting to. The Empire is offering tax reductions to any merchant willing to check coins. They supply—”

“Oh.”

“Hmmm?”

“I heard something about that. Some device, and they’d give me a reduction on my taxes if I—”

“You’re a merchant?”

I looked innocent. “I am part owner of a perfectly respectable psychedelic herb shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh. I see.”

“I thought it was some sort of listening device they were trying to install.”

“It might be that, too,” he said.

“You don’t trust the Empire much, do you?”

“As much as you do. Less, because I probably know it better.”

“All right. So it won’t work much longer to just use the coins elsewhere. What do they do if you spend it somewhere that doesn’t have the means of detecting it?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“What if you went to, say, my shop and bought an ounce of dreamgrass. I wouldn’t know the coin was tagged. So then I’d spend the coin somewhere, and—”

“Oh, I see. They treat it just like they do a coiner: ask you where you’d gotten the coin, and try to work back from there.”

“I was approached by the Empire about six weeks ago. How long has this been going on?”

“About that long, more or less.”

I nodded. “A new program. They’re always thinking, those Imperial law enforcement types. They never let up. It’s an honor to run rings around them.”

“That’s been my feeling, yes.”

“So it sounds like the only choice is to reduce the cost of removing the—what were they called?”

“Tags.”

“Right. Reduce the cost of removing the tags.”

“That’s better than my idea?”

“What was your idea?”

“I was going to write the Empire a letter saying please stop.”

“Heh,” I said. Then, “Woah. You
are
a Tiassa.”

“Meaning?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Somehow, I doubt they’d be impressed by the letter.”

“I don’t think a letter is the best way, but the idea is sound.”

“What idea?”

“Convincing the Empire to stop tagging the coins.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why not?”

From the look on his face, he thought I was jesting; from the look on mine, I think, he eventually decided I wasn’t. His eyes narrowed and he looked even more cat-like, but I declined to scratch him behind the ears. He said, “How would you do that?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Oh. Thought you might have something.”

“I think I might.”

“What?”

“The idea you just gave me. Convince the Empire to stop tagging the coins.”

“Which you have no idea how to do, and, therefore, no reason to believe it can be done.”

“You’ve stated our position exactly,” I said. “I’m proud of you.”

Ibronka stirred and said to Bluey, “Mind if I eviscerate him?”

“Just one?” he said. “And an Easterner?”

“I’m not thinking of a fight, more of pest control.”

“I’d rather you didn’t just yet, love.”

“All right.” She turned back and smiled sweetly at me.

I decided I liked her. “It must be hard on you,” I told her. “Most of the time when dealing with clients, you have the advantage. Has to be hard for a Dzur to take.”

She pretended I hadn’t spoken.

I spent a few minutes thinking over the problem, and when Loiosh asked again why I was bothering, I pretended he hadn’t spoken. I can do that stuff, too.

It wasn’t at all the sort of thing I could do, but I had friends—or acquaintances at least—who could do a lot of things I couldn’t. Sethra Lavode, Morrolan, Aliera, Kiera—

Kiera.

Kiera had told me once, about … how did that work? I remained silent as the idea built a nest and laid some eggs.

Blue-guy might have a stupid name, but he wasn’t stupid. He said, “What is it you know that you aren’t telling me?”

“Lots of things,” I said. “And the reverse is true as well, I’ve no doubt. Do you want this done, or don’t you?”

“Now it sounds like you’re in.”

“What’s the offer?”

“To solve the problem completely? I don’t know. That’s worth a lot.”

“Double what you’ve already agreed to pay me.”

“It’s worth more than that.”

“You’re honest. I’m touched. I know. Is it a deal?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m in.” I turned to Shoen and Sticks and said, “Thanks. You’re off.”

“You sure?” said Sticks. “These characters look all dangerous and stuff. I wouldn’t want to see you unprotected.” He was giving Ibronka an amused smirk, I think just to annoy her. She gave no indication of noticing, which meant that her dislike of me was more because I was a Jhereg than because I was an Easterner. Good. Bigotry is such an ugly thing, don’t you think?

“I’m sure,” I told Sticks. I had turned my head to speak to him, so neither of our new acquaintances could see my face; I silently mouthed, “Follow them.”

“You’re the boss,” he said, and headed out. Shoen, I should add, was already gone.

I turned back to Foxy. “I need to get my hands on some of those coins.”

“You have a plan,” he said.

“I always have a plan. Ask anyone. ‘That Vlad,’ they’ll say. ‘He sure does always have a plan. He—’”

“Why do you work so hard to make yourself disliked?” asked Ibronka. “I should think you’d find it happens enough on its own without putting yourself to any extra trouble.”

I drank some wine and said, “Yes, I have a plan.”

“Tell me about it,” said Blue.

“Not just yet.”

His face twitched, but I couldn’t tell what it meant. “All right,” he said. Ibronka looked at him, then shrugged almost imperceptibly; I imagine they’d be talking about that later.

“You need a bag of gold,” he said.

“Tagged gold, yes. Or silver. Coins that have been treated so they’ll be detectable, and have been stolen. Which reminds me—can they be traced?”

He frowned. “Probably. Never known it to be done—they just like to wait until the coins show up in circulation. Paying for a trace is going to cost a big chunk of the total value. But it could happen. Is that a problem?”

“It could be. Can you get the coins?”

“Give me a week. How do I get in touch with you?”

I told him where the office was, and told him to ask the clerk for something Eastern that would last until morning.

He looked amused, which irritated me, but I guess fair is fair. “A week then?”

“Or sooner if you get it sooner.”

I stood, bowed, and showed him my back on the way out the door.

“Well, Boss? Do I get to know what’s going to happen?”

“Sure. We’re going back to the office and find out some stuff, then do some work. Then we wait until he shows up with the coins.”

“Which will give you a week to figure out what to do with them. I still don’t know why—”

“I know what I’m going to do with them, Loiosh.”

“Oh? What are you going to do with them?”

“Get arrested,”
I said, which shut him up. It was also sort of true, but that was of secondary importance.

First importance (after shutting up Loiosh) was to find out what was going on. If I came up with a clever plan that didn’t solve the problem, I’d feel silly. I sort of thought I should figure out what the problem was.

I returned to the office and found Kragar, who wanted to know what was going on. In answer, I said, “I need to know everything you can find out about someone calling himself the Blue Fox.”

“Calling himself the what?”

“You heard me.”

“A Jhereg?”

“Tiassa.”

“How am I supposed to find that?”

“Use your imagination.”

“You mean, make stuff up?”

“He’s supposed to be a robber, a highwayman, working somewhere east of here. Ask if anyone’s heard of him, then follow it up.”

“Do you know how stupid I’m going to sound asking if anyone has heard of the Blue Fox?”

“Yes, I know exactly how stupid you’re going to sound.”

“The gods will punish you.”

“I have no doubt of that at all.”

The next order of business was finding Kiera the Thief. I went back out and stopped in a couple of inns, and I dropped the word that I wanted to talk to Kiera. She was waiting for me at a third, a place informally called the Roughhouse, which I’m sure has a story behind it; to all appearances and from all my experience, it’s a quiet little place with lots of booths with tall backs, so you imagine you’re getting more privacy than you are.

I spotted her—well, okay, Loiosh spotted her—in one of the booths as I was waiting to speak to the host, and we joined her: Kiera the Thief. She was short for a Dragaeran, though some of that was that she tended to slump a little. Her hair was dark, her motions graceful, and her smile full of warmth. I still have no idea why she likes me, but we go back to a day when—no, skip it. She was good to me from the moment we met. As I approached the booth, she gave me a good kiss on the mouth—the only Dragaeran I greet like that, by the way—and a hug to go with it. I sat.

“I was just looking for you,” I said.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

I smiled. “I suspected it was all a trick.”

“Hmmm?”

“Never mind.” She had a small glass with something dark in it; I ordered her another and got myself a light tingling wine. When the drinks arrived, I said, “A long time ago, you mentioned something called, if I remember right, the hamper switch.”

“Hamper Load, and you have a good memory, Vlad.”

“How do you do it?”

“Are you going into a new line of work?”

“No, but I have a situation where it might be useful. Can you explain it to me? Slowly, as befits the lethargic Eastern brain?”

She snorted. “All right, and you don’t have to tell me what this is about, but if you feel like doing so, I’m curious.”

“Let me see if I get away with it first. If I do, I’ll explain. If I don’t I’ll try to pretend it never happened.”