“I think I see.”
“And if the creature was instructed to whack Lar’s head off with an axe, but we ensure no axes are available, or if we somehow turn the blow aside...”
Lar shuddered, and Emmis interrupted, “Yes, I understand, but how do we know?..”
“Your theurgist gave you no clue? No mention of anything?”
“I didn’t give him time,” Emmis admitted. “The moment I knew a death-spell had been cast I came running back to warn you.”
Ildirin nodded. “A natural reaction, but perhaps unfortunate in this instance.” He turned to Lar. “Is there any particular method of assassination preferred by the people of Lumeth?”
“There is, but I don’t know the word in Ethsharitic,” Lar said, a bit unsteadily. “Nagrop — a... a thin cord around the neck.”
“A garotte,” Ildirin said. “Charming. And easily improvised, if they haven’t just told the beast to use its claws.”
“How fast does the creature move?” Emmis asked. “How soon could it be here?”
“Oh, it probably is here,” Ildirin said. “It could be in the room with us right now, listening. It’s far faster than any human.”
Emmis stared around the room — and noticed Lar and Ahan doing the same, though Ildirin did not. Lord Ildirin obviously recognized the foolishness of looking for something you know is invisible, but Emmis had still hoped to see some sign.
“If it’s already here, why hasn’t it made its attempt?” Emmis asked.
“I couldn’t say,” Ildirin replied. “I presume some condition has not been met. Either a time has not yet come, or His Excellency is in the wrong place, or perhaps the creature was told to attack him when he’s alone, and he’s been in my company for most of the afternoon.”
“Well, is there any way we can find out which it is?”
“In fact, there is,” Ildirin said thoughtfully. “If I could just remember...”
“Remember what? A spell? A warding?”
“The creature has its own appetites,” Ildirin said. “I believe there’s a way to bribe it.”
Emmis felt a wave of relief, but then recalled that just because a way existed, that didn’t mean they would be able to use it in time. “Do we need a wizard?” he asked.
“No.” Lord Ildirin frowned, and stroked his beard. “I knew this; Lorret the Mage mentioned it to me years ago, after Lord Habuk used Fendel’s Assassin to kill Lady Asseyr. It’s... something sweet. The creature likes something sweet.”
“Honey?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“We don’t have any,” Emmis said. “I bought a few things for the pantry, but no honey.”
Ahan cleared his throat.
Lord Ildirin looked at him. “Yes?”
“Zhol generally keeps a bag of honey drops handy,” Ahan said. “He likes to suck on them while standing guard.”
“Go fetch him, then!”
Ahan turned, then hesitated. “Am I done escorting Emmis, then?”
“Yes, yes. At least for now.”
Ahan bowed slightly, then marched out.
“Who’s Zhol?” Emmis asked.
“One of the guards at the door,” Ildirin replied. “I hope candy will do; the creature may insist on liquid honey. We shall see.”
“I hope so,” Lar said. “I must say, I don’t like this. The idea that there is an invisible creature lurking here, waiting to kill me, is... is... gharget. Shalbet. I don’t know the Ethsharitic.”
“I’m sure it must be, whatever those words mean,” Lord Ildirin said. “Still, it could be far worse. You know it’s here, and you have the opportunity to stop it, and once stopped, it’s over. If your foes had hired a warlock, you would already be dead. Had they been willing to pay their wizard more, and had they the means to ensure you triggered it, they might have used the Rune of the Implacable Stalker, in which case the creature would never give up so long as you lived. I am sure there are other more lethal spells of which I am unaware, as well. And if they had approached a demonologist — well, the options there are plentiful, and all of them quite hideous.”
“You are not comforting,” Lar said.
“But really, my friend, that you are still alive now bodes well,” Ildirin insisted.
“It’s still not comforting,” Lar retorted. “What if the creature is to kill me when I finish my tea? What if sunset is the time? The shadows I see through the window are getting very long.” He looked at his cup, and carefully set it down on the table with half an inch of liquid still undrunk in the bottom. “And even if we stop this one — I hadn’t expected them to try again! I don’t understand why they think they must kill me. Paying a wizard — the next time maybe it will be a demonologist!”
“There won’t be a ’next time,’” Ildirin said. “At least, not unless they’re very quick about it. Because this is a violation of Ethsharitic law, and an affront to the overlord. I had treated the previous attack as an amusement, something I could use to entertain myself, but that was because I had not thought they would try again, and certainly not that they would use magic. Now I know better. They have escalated to magic; we shall return the favor, and we have access to far more powerful magic than anything a few travelers from the Small Kingdoms are likely to possess, or to be able to purchase. If we can deal with this immediate threat, the next step will be to call upon Ethshar’s magicians to find and capture those responsible. If they meant to prevent an alliance between the Empire of Vond and the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars, they have utterly failed in their purpose; I will be informing my nephew at the first opportunity that it is essential we aid your empire in any way we can.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Lar said, visibly somewhat relieved — but only somewhat.
After all, Emmis thought, the invisible creature, Fendel’s Assassin, was still around. “So you can bribe it to go away, and not harm the ambassador?” he asked.
“No,” Ildirin said. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The original spell binds it more strongly than anything we can do. But we can coax it into telling us what it’s required to do, and perhaps we can find a way to prevent it.”
“Perhaps?” Lar said, tensing again.
“Perhaps, yes. There’s no certainty to be had here, your Excellency. We will do what we can.”
“But... but...” Lar struggled to find the words to express his dismay, and failed.
Then Ahan reappeared in the doorway, holding out a handful of golden lumps. “My lord?”
“Ah, Ahan!” Lord Ildirin said. “Hold those out, just as you have them, but be ready to close your fist instantly.”
Ahan obeyed, looking about nervously.
“Now, creature of magic, wizard’s weapon, if you hear me — speak, answer our questions, and you shall have the honey!”
“Honey!” a strange voice said, a low, slow, hissing, rumbling voice unlike anything Emmis had ever heard before. He still could not see the creature, but the voice seemed to be coming from directly behind Lar. The ambassador started in his chair at the sound of it, and whirled around, peering desperately about.
He saw nothing.
“Tell us, then, what your instructions were,” Ildirin calmly demanded.
“Find him, wring his neck as he sleeps.” A horrible noise that might have been a tittering laugh followed these words. Emmis’s skin crawled.
“Nothing more than that? Not, perhaps, as he sleeps in his bed?”
“Wring his neck as he sleeps. Nothing more. Honey?”
Lord Ildirin did not look entirely satisfied, but he nodded to Ahan. “Give him the honey,” he said. “Quickly.”
The guardsman hurried forward, holding out the candies, then stopped in front of Lar’s chair, unsure exactly what he should do next.
The creature answered that for him, as about half the honey drops vanished from his palm, rising a fraction
