Sethra Lavode (Viscount of Adrilankha) by Steven Brust Read Free Book Online Page B

being too engrossed in using a piece of toast to gather every drop of sauce he could scavenge.
    In the meantime, Iatha raised her black eyes to Ibronka and said, “And now, my dear, as we have finished our repast and so it is no longer forbidden to touch on matters of business, I hope you will be so good as to explain to us why this plan of teleporting away from the scene of our activity is not a good one. For my part, I confess I find the idea entrancing, and so I warn you, if your explanation is not a good one, well, I will argue with it.”
    “Oh, I assure you my logic is tolerably sound—so much so that I venture to guarantee that, once you have heard it, you will never again raise the suggestion.”
    “If it is that good, it must be a powerful argument indeed.”
    “You will judge for yourself.”
    “Very good. Let us hear it, then.”
    Ibronka reached out her hand. Piro placed his own in it, and they exchanged the tenderest of looks as she said, “Do you remember when we first came to Dzur Mountain?”
    “Nearly,” said Kytraan. “Röaana and I were biting our lips until they bled trying to find ways to bring the two of you together.”
    “And we are more than a little grateful that you succeeded, my friend,” said Piro, smiling.
    “Bah, we should have gone mad otherwise,” said Röaana.
    “That is true,” said Kytraan. “The Viscount never raised his eyes off the floor.”
    “And,” added Röaana, “Ibronka would vanish for hours at a time, to be found in some corner with her eyes red.”
    “Ah,” said Ibronka, “but you do not know what I was doing during those hours I was gone. I give you my word, it was not all spent in tears.”
    “How, it was not?” said Ibronka.
    “Not in the least. You must understand, I was nearly out of my senses, not knowing if I dared to speak to the Viscount, and so—”
    “Well? And so?”
    “I thought to distract myself. After all,” she added, with a significant look at Röaana, “I could not remain in your company for more than a minute without you beginning to practice upon me.”
    “Ah, my love,” said Röaana, “it was with the best of intentions, I assure you.”
    “Oh, I give you my word, I do not doubt that in the least, my dear.”
    “But,” said Piro, still looking at her in the fondest way, “what did you do to distract yourself? Because, as for me, I had Kytraan who nagged like a fishwife, and being vexed at him was sufficient distraction for me.”
    “Ah, Piro!” cried Kytraan.
    “Well, but what is the answer?” said Röaana.
    “I made a friend of—”
    “Of whom?” cried Piro, prepared to be jealous.
    “Of the Sorceress in Green.”
    “Of her?”
    “Certainly.”
    “But, why?”
    “Because, my dear, she pretends to have not the least interest in love, and therefore her conversation was a comfort to me.”
    “Well, I understand that,” said Piro.
    “As do I,” said Röaana, “only what did you talk about?”
    “Sorcery,” said Ibronka. “I considered devoting myself to its study. And, indeed, I would have, only—”
    “Yes?”
    “Shortly thereafter I became diverted.”
    “Well,” said Piro, now blushing.
    “To be precise, then, the Sorceress in Green and I carried on a conversation about teleportation, which she pretended was the most remarkable thing to come from the improvement of the Orb.”
    “Do you think she is wrong?” said Röaana.
    “Oh, I do not feel qualified to have an opinion on this matter. But she and Sethra the Younger had been studying it, and, indeed, had branched off into different aspects of the art. To be precise—”
    “Oh yes,” murmured Iatha. “By all means let us be precise.”
    “Sethra the Younger concerned herself with how to
prevent
a teleport—that is, with finding ways to be certain no one could enter or leave a certain place.”
    “My House of the Iorich will be much interested in that,” observed Belly.
    “Whereas the Sorceress in Green had become interested in the