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.I suppose it was because I was physically closeto so many of the people I had missed, but was still out of touch with them.Once again, I touched the hilt of Lady Teldra.There was that feeling of presence again.It made me thinkof the time I had spent in the East.Not the unpleasant part, which was actually most of it, but the feelingof standing with my eyes closed, face up toward the Furnace, like a shower-bath of warmth.And yes,she had saved my life; but she had destroyed a soul in an action so auto-matic to her, so instinctive, that Ihadn t even been aware it was happening.Or was I reading too much into it? Very likely.There were probably, I don t know, mechanicsinvolved things that she just sort of did.Putting any kind of moral weight on her actions was perhapslike blaming the rock that someone throws at your head.I badly wanted to be able to be able to communicate with her, but all I got was a vague sensation;pleasant, but frustrating.If I m not around when she wakes up, you ll remember to say hello for me,Sethra had said, orsomething like that. Hey! Lady Teldra! Wake up!She didn t.I wanted to go to sleep, or get drunk, or something.What I needed was my old Organization, with all itssources of informa-tion, and legwork; but I couldn t reach Kragar or even Morrolan s network.I wasisolated, and frighteningly helpless.Which was odd, considering that I still had all of my skills, myfamiliars, a lot of money, and a Great Weapon.If I could just Hmmmm.I did have a lot of money, didn t I? Boss? You have something? Yeah, I told Loiosh. Yeah, I think I do. Is it something stupid? Oddly enough, no.There was something I d forgotten. Which means ?I checked the time.It had made it to evening; there would now be people starting to fill the streets. Come on, Loiosh.It s time to move. Sounds good.Does that mean there s a plan? Just watch me.9Chilled DefrinaMihi removed the wine and replaced it with a new bottle, providing us with new glasses, as well.Againthe feather, the glove, the tongs.Defrina is a white wine with just a hint of, of all things, cherries.The sweetness, which wouldnormally have been too much for me, was cut by an extra chill that Mihi had put on it just for me.The first sip said a merry hello to the flavors already dancing around my tongue, and then it sliddown my throat still leaving behind it the taste of the trout, but brightened just a little, if thatmakes any sense.I leaned back and studied my dinner companion. Fun, I repeated.He grinned and nodded.The first several things that came to mind were all sarcastic, but sarcasm didn t really go withValabar s trout and a good, chilled white wine.I said,  Can you explain that?He frowned and considered for a moment, then said,  You know, I don t think I can.I ll try.I drank some wine and nodded. You see, he said. There s this feeling you get when things are happening almost too fast foryou to handle, and if you make a mistake, you re dead.You d be scared out of your mind if youweren t too busy.Do you know what I mean? Well, I know how I feel at times like that.I don t much care for it.  Don t you?I ate some more fish and drank some more wine. In fact, I said,  I don t remember enjoying it, or not enjoying it.Like you said, I m too busy. Well, there you are.I grunted. Afterward, though, I hate it.He grinned. I guess that s the difference. As long as there is one. That s just what I was thinking, Loiosh. Of course, he added,  the cause enters into it as well. The cause? The reason you re fighting. Oh.It isn t just to fight? Well, sometimes it is. You mean, most of the time it is? Yeah, most of the time. Uh huh. But not the important times. Mmm.Care to explain that? It isn t difficult.When you do something big, you want it to matter. He looked at me. Well,don t you? I don t usually get into things by my own plan.I get dumped into them, and then I m too busytrying to stay alive to think about the im-portance of the cause.He nodded as if he understood.I hadanother bite of fish, and another sip of wine.I remembered a friend I d had named Ricard one of the few peo-ple I knew who weren tinvolved with the Organization.He was an Easterner, a stocky fellow with thin hair, and we deaten dinner together, gotten drunk on his boat on the bay, and argued about matters great andsmall.He worked ten hours a day, four days a week, doing what I pretended to do keeping the books for a slaughterhouse and two or three evenings a week would play obscure music on thecimbalon at an obscure house in South Adrilankha.Every couple of months he would have savedup enough silver to take me out for dinner at Valabar s, and I d take him a month later; we mightor might not have dates with us.He enjoyed good food more than anyone else I ve ever met,which made him a very pleasant companion.Right about this point in the meal, he d look up atme with a big grin and say,  This is why we work so hard.* * * *Sandor that s me, if you ve forgotten made his way generally southward, to the area where thestreets start running downhill toward the eastern docks of Adrilankha.The streets were, indeed, morecrowded now as evening fell.As people passed me by, I was struck again by a little thing I d noticedbefore, when comparing people in this part of Adrilankha to those in  the City : Scars.I don t meananything big or grotesque, but, like, one guy I passed had this little scar on the corner of his mouth;another had a slight white mark above an eyebrow.And, yes, here and there were miss-ing limbs, orobvious, dramatic scars that spoke of someone who had a story to tell his grandchildren; but even thelittle ones you d never see among Dragaerans, among those who could just pop over to a physicker andmake the injury look like it had never happened.Dragaerans: the scarless people. What s funny, Boss? Nothing, Loiosh.I was just imagining walking up to Morrolan and saying,  Greetings, oh scarlessone [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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