Cycles. So far as I can tell, by the way, a reborn Phoenix is an Emperor of the House of the Phoenix who doesn't become decadent by the end of his reign. Anyway, since Zerika was the only Phoenix living at the time, this meant it had to be Zerika. (All of this business about "what makes a Phoenix" is very strange when combined with aspects of the relationships among Houses--such as genetics. I mean, it seems absurd to have the opinion that most Dragaerans seem to have about cross-breeds, when there is, at the moment, no other way to produce a Phoenix heir except through cross-breeding. I may go into this at some point.) In any case, at the tender age of one hundred or thereabouts she came to Deathsgate Falls and passed, living, through the Paths of the Dead and so came to the Halls of Judgment. There she took the Orb from the shade of the last Emperor and returned to declare the Interregnum at an end. This was about the time my
great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather was being born. That business about descending Deathsgate Falls, by the way, is quite impressive. I know, because I've done it myself.
But the point is that this background gave Zerika a certain understanding of the human condition--or at least the Dragaeran condition. She was wise and she was intelligent. She knew that there was nothing to be gained by interfering in a duel between Jhereg. On the other hand, I guess what Laris and I had been doing to each other was too much to ignore.
We woke up the morning after the meeting with Terion to find the streets patrolled by guards in Phoenix livery. Notices were posted explaining that no one was allowed in the streets after nightfall, that no groups of more than four could assemble, that all use of sorcery would be carefully observed and regulated, that all taverns and inns were shut down until further notice. There was also the unspoken statement that no illegal activity of any kind would be tolerated.
It was enough to make me want to move to a better neighborhood.
"Where do we stand, Kragar?"
"We can keep up like this--supporting everything and not earning--for about seven weeks."
"Do you think this will last seven weeks?"
"I don't know. I hope not."
"Yeah. We can't reduce our forces unless Laris does, and we don't have any way of knowing if Laris will. That's the worst part of it--this would be the perfect time to start infiltrating his organization, but we can't because he doesn't have anything running, either."
Kragar shrugged. "We'll just have to sit tight."
"Hmmmm. Maybe. Tell you what: why don't we find a few places he's connected to that are legitimate--you know, like restaurants--and make friends with some of the management types."
"Make friends?"
"Sure. Give them presents."
"Presents?"
"Gold."
"Just give it to them?"
"Yeah. Not ask for anything. Have people hand them money, and say it comes from me."
He looked more puzzled than ever. "What will that do?"
"Well, it works with court advisors, doesn't it? I mean, isn't that the kind of thing the connections do? Just maintain good relationships so that if they need something, people will be well-disposed toward them? Why not try it here? It can't do any harm."
"It costs."
"Screw that. It might work. If they like us, that makes it more likely they'll tell us something. And maybe they can tell us something useful. If not right away, then someday."
"It's worth a try," he admitted.
"Start out with five hundred, and spread it around a bit."
"You're the boss."
"Next: we really should get some idea of when we can open something up. Do you have any guesses at all? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?"
"At least days, maybe weeks. Remember--those guards don't like this any more than we do. They'll be fighting it from their end, and all the merchants who aren't involved are going to be fighting it from their end. Also, it goes without saying that all the organization contacts in the Palace will be working on it. I don't think it can
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