The Lies of Locke Lamora - By Scott Lynch Page 0,104

a suitable wardrobe. Between your skills and my current anonymity, no one will ever be aware that you are even involved, or that you are not the real Gray King.”

“An amusing plan. It has balls, and that appeals to me. But you do realize that I’m going to look like quite the ass,” said Locke, “when the capa opens our conversation with a dozen crossbow bolts to my chest.”

“Hardly an issue. You’ll be quite well protected against routine foolishness on the capa’s part. I’ll be sending the Falconer with you.”

Locke flicked his gaze back to the Bondsmage, who smiled with obvious mock magnanimity.

“Do you really think,” continued the Gray King, “that I would have let you keep that other stiletto in your coat sleeve if any weapon in your hands could touch me? Try to cut me. I’ll let you borrow a crossbow or two, if you like. A quarrel will do no better. The same protection will be yours when you meet with the capa.”

“Then it’s true,” said Locke. “Those stories aren’t just stories. Your pet mage gives you more than just the ability to make my brain lock up like I’ve been drinking all night.”

“Yes. And it was my men who started spreading those stories, for one purpose—I wanted Barsavi’s gangs to so dread my presence that they wouldn’t dare to get close to you when the time came for you to speak to him. After all, I have the power to kill men with a touch.” The Gray King smiled. “And when you’re me, so will you.”

Locke frowned. That smile, that face… There was something damned familiar about the Gray King. Nothing immediately obvious, just a nagging sensation that Locke had been in his presence before. He cleared his throat. “That’s very thoughtful of you. And what happens when I’ve finished this task for you?”

“A parting of the ways,” said the Gray King. “You to your business, and me to my own.”

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe.”

“You’ll leave your meeting with Barsavi alive, Locke. Fear not for what happens after that; I assure you it won’t be as bad as you think. If I merely wanted to assassinate him, can you deny that I could have done it long ago?”

“You’ve killed seven of his garristas. You’ve kept him locked away on the Floating Grave for months. ‘Not as bad as I think’? He killed eight of his own Full Crowns after Tesso died. He won’t accept less than blood from you.”

“Barsavi has kept himself locked away on the Floating Grave, Locke. And as I said, you must trust me to deal with that end of the situation. The capa will acquiesce to what I have to offer him. We’ll settle the question of Camorr once and for all, to everyone’s satisfaction.”

“I grant that you’re dangerous,” said Locke, “but you must be mad.”

“Suit whatever meaning you wish to my actions, Locke, provided that you perform as required.”

“It would appear,” Locke said sourly, “that I have no choice.”

“This is no accident. Are we agreed? You’ll perform this task for me?”

“With instruction in what you wish me to say to Capa Barsavi?”

“Yes.”

“There will be one other condition.”

“Really?”

“If I’m going to do this for you,” said Locke, “I need to have a way to speak to you, or at least get a message to you, at my own will. Something may come up which can’t wait for you to prance around appearing out of nowhere.”

“It’s unlikely,” said the Gray King.

“It’s a necessity. Do you want me to be successful in this task or not?”

“Very well.” The Gray King nodded. “Falconer.”

The Falconer rose from his seat; Vestris never took her eyes from Locke’s. The hawk’s master reached inside his coat with his free hand and withdrew a candle—a tiny cylinder of white wax with an odd smear of crimson swirling through it. “Light this,” said the Bondsmage, “in a place of solitude. You must be absolutely alone. Speak my name, and I will hear and come, soon enough.”

“Thank you.” Locke took the candle with his right hand and slipped it into his own coat. “Falconer. Easy to remember, that.”

Vestris opened her beak, but made no noise. It snapped shut, and the bird blinked. A yawn? Her version of a chuckle at Locke’s expense?

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” said the Bondsmage. “Just as Vestris feels what I feel, I see what she sees.”

“That explains quite a bit,” said Locke.

“If we are agreed,” said the Gray King, “our business here is