The Wise Man's Fear Part 29

"Actually, I don't," I admitted. "What do people say?"

Sleat gave me a sharp, beautiful smile. "Ah, that's the problem isn't it? Everyone knows a man's reputation except the man himself. For most men this isn't a bother. But some of us labor over our reputations. I have built mine brick by brick. It is a useful tool." He gave me a sly look. "I expect you understand what I am talking about."

I allowed myself a smile. "Perhaps."

"What do they say about me, then? Tell me and I'll return the favor."

"Well," I said. "You're good at finding things," I said. "You're discreet, but expensive."

He waved his hands, irritated. "Vagaries. Details are the bones of the story. Give me bones."

I thought. "I heard you managed to sell several vials of Regim Ignaul Neratum Regim Ignaul Neratum last term. last term. After After the fire in Kilvin's shop, where all of it was supposedly destroyed." the fire in Kilvin's shop, where all of it was supposedly destroyed."

Sleat nodded, his expression giving away nothing.

"I heard you arranged to get a message to Veyane's father in Emlin despite the fact that there was a siege going on." Another nod. "You got a young prost.i.tute working in b.u.t.tons a set of doc.u.ments proving she was a distant bloodline cousin of the Baronet Gamre, allowing her to marry a certain young gentleman with minimal fuss."

Sleat smiled. "I was proud of that one."

"When you were an E'lir," I continued. "You were suspended for two terms on charges of Wrongful Apprehension. Two years later, you were fined and suspended again for Misuse of University Equipment in the Crucible. I've heard Jamison knows the sort of business you do, but he's paid to turn a blind eye. I don't believe the last one, by the way."

"Fair enough," he said easily. "Neither do I."

"Despite your extensive activities, you've only been brought up against the iron law once," I continued. "Transport of Contraband Substances, wasn't it?"

Sleat rolled his eyes. "You know the d.a.m.nedest thing? I was actually innocent of that one. Heffron's boys paid off a constable to fake some evidence. The charges were withdrawn after only two days." He scowled. "Not that the masters cared. All they gave a d.a.m.n about was that I was out there besmirching the University's good name." His tone was bitter. "My tuition tripled after that."

I decided to push matters a bit. "Several months ago you poisoned a young earl's daughter with Venitasin and only gave her the antidote after she signed over the largest of the fiefdoms she stood to inherit. Then you staged it to look like she'd lost it playing a game of high-stakes faro."

He raised an eyebrow at this. "Do they say why?"

"No," I said. "I a.s.sumed she tried to default on her debt to you."

"There's some truth to that," he said. "Though it was a bit more complicated. And it wasn't Venitasin. That would be extraordinarily reckless." He looked offended and brushed at his sleeve, plainly irritated. "Anything else?"

I paused, trying to decide if I wanted to get confirmation about something I'd suspected for some time. "Only that last term you put Ambrose Jakis in touch with a pair of men who have been known to kill people for money."

Sleat's expression remained impa.s.sive, his body loose and relaxed. But I could see a slight tension in his shoulders. Very little escapes me when I'm watching closely. "They say that, do they?"

I gave a shrug that put his to shame. My shrug was so nonchalant it would make a cat jealous. "I'm a musician. I play three nights a span in a busy tavern. I hear all manner of things." I reached for my mug. "And what have you heard of me?"

"The same stories everyone else knows, of course. You convinced the masters to admit you to the University though you're just a pup, no offense. Then two days later you shame Master Hemme in his own cla.s.sroom and get away bird free."

"Save for a whipping."

"Save for a whipping," he acknowledged. "During which you couldn't be bothered to cry out or bleed, even a little. I wouldn't believe that if there weren't several hundred witnesses."

"We drew a decent crowd," I said. "It was good weather for a whipping."

"I've heard some overly dramatic folk call you Kvothe the Bloodless because of it," he said. "Though I'm guessing part of that comes from the fact that you're Edema Ruh, which means you're about as far from a blooded n.o.ble as a person can be."

I smiled. "A bit of both, I expect."

He looked thoughtful. "I've heard you and Master Elodin fought in Haven. Vast and terrible magics were unleashed, and in the end he won by throwing you through a stone wall, then off the roof of the building."

"Do they say what we fought over?" I asked.

"All manner of things," he said dismissively. "An insult. A misunderstanding. You tried to steal his magic. He tried to steal your woman. Typical nonsense."

Sleat rubbed at his face. "Let me see. You play the lute pa.s.sing well and are proud as a kicked cat. You are unmannerly, sharp-tongued, and show no respect for your betters, which is practically everyone given your lowly ravel birth."

I felt a flush of anger start in my face and sweep, hot and p.r.i.c.kling, down the entire length of my body. "I am the best musician you will ever meet or see from a distance," I said with forced calm. "And I am Edema Ruh to my bones. That means my blood is red. It means I breathe the free air and walk where my feet take me. I do not cringe and fawn like a dog at a man's t.i.tle. That looks like pride to people who have spent their lives cultivating supple spines."

Sleat gave a lazy smile, and I realized he'd been baiting me. "You also have a temper, so I've heard. And there's a whole boatload of other a.s.sorted nonsense floating around you as well. You only sleep an hour each night. You have demon blood. You can talk to the dead-"

I leaned forward, curious. That wasn't one of the rumors I'd started. "Really ? Do I talk to spirits, or are they claiming I'm digging up bodies?"

"I'm a.s.suming spirits," he said. "I haven't heard anyone mention grave robbing."

I nodded. "Anything else?"

"Only that you were cornered in an alley last term by two men who kill people for money. And despite the fact that they had knives and caught you quite unaware, you blinded one and beat the other senseless, calling down fire and lightning like Taborlin the Great."

We looked at each other for a long moment. It was not a comfortable silence. "Did you put Ambrose in touch with them?" I asked at last.

"That," Sleat said frankly, "is not a good question. It implies I discuss private dealings after the fact." He gave me a flat look, no hint of a smile anywhere near his mouth or eyes. "Besides, would you trust me to answer honestly?"

I frowned.

"I can say, however, that because of those stories, n.o.body is much interested in taking that sort of job again," Sleat said conversationally. "Not that there is much call for that sort of work around here to begin with. We're all terribly civilized."

"Not that you would know about it, even if it were going on."

His smile came back. "Exactly." He leaned forward. "Enough chatter then. What is it you're looking for?"

"I need a schema for a piece of artificing."

He set his elbows on the table. "And ..."

"It contains sygaldry Kilvin restricts to those of El'the rank and higher."

Sleat nodded matter-of-factly. "And how quickly do you need it? Hours? Days?"

I thought about Wil and Sim staying up nights to watch over me. "Sooner is better."

Sleat looked thoughtful, his eyes unfocused. "It's going to cost, and there's no guarantee I'll be able to produce it on an exact schedule." He focused in on me. "Also, if you get caught you'll be charged with Wrongful Apprehension at the very least."

I nodded.

"And you know what the penalties are?"

"'For Wrongful Apprehension of the Arcane not leading to injury of another," I recited. "'The offending student may be fined no more than twenty talents, whipped no more than ten times, suspended from the Arcanum, or expelled from the University."

"They fined me the full twenty talents and suspended me two terms," Sleat said grimly. "And that was only some Re'lar-level alchemy. It will be worse with you if this is El'the-level stuff."

"How much?" I asked.

"To get hold of it in a few days ..." He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Thirty talents."

I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach, but I kept my face composed. "Is there any room to negotiate that?"

He gave his sharp smile again, his teeth were very white. "I also deal in favors," he said. "But a thirty talent favor is going to be a big one." He looked at me thoughtfully. "We could perhaps work out something along those lines. But I feel obliged to mention that when I call a favor due, it's due. At that point, there isn't any negotiation."

I nodded calmly to show him I understood. But I felt a cold knot forming in my gut. This was a bad idea. I knew it in my bones.

"Do you owe anyone else?" Sleat asked. "And don't lie to me or I'll know."

"Six talents," I said casually. "Due at the end of the term."

He nodded. "I'm guessing you didn't manage to get it off some moneylender. Did you go to Heffron?"

I shook my head. "Devi."

For the first time in our conversation Sleat lost his composure, his charming smile fell away entirely. "Devi?" He pulled himself up in his chair, his body suddenly tense. "No. I don't think we can come to an arrangement. If you had cash it would be one thing." He shook his head. "But no. If Devi already owns a piece of you ..."

His reaction chilled me, then I realized he was just angling for more money. "What if I were to borrow money from you so I could settle my debt with her?"

Sleat shook his head, regaining a piece of his shattered nonchalance. "That is the very definition of poaching," he said. "Devi has an ongoing interest in you. An investment." He took a drink and cleared his throat meaningfully. "She does not look kindly on other folk interfering where she's staked her claim."

I raised an eyebrow. "I guess I was taken in by your reputation," I said. "Silly of me, really."

His face creased into a frown. "What do you mean by that?"

I waved my hands dismissively. "Please, give me credit for being at least half as clever as you've heard," I said. "If you can't get what I want, just admit it. Don't waste my time by pricing things out of my reach or coming up with elaborate excuses."

Sleat seemed unsure if he should be offended. "What part of this seems elaborate to you?"

"Come now," I said. "You're willing to run against the laws of the University, risk the wrath of the masters, the constables, and the iron law of Atur. But a little slip of a girl makes your knees quivery?" I sniffed and mimicked the gesture he'd made before, pretending to ball something up and throw it away over my shoulder.

He looked at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Yes, that's exactly the case," he said, wiping tears of genuine amus.e.m.e.nt from his eyes. "Apparently I was fooled by your reputation too. If you think Devi is a little slip of a girl, you aren't nearly as clever as I thought."

Looking over my shoulder, Sleat nodded at someone I couldn't see and waved his hand dismissively. "Go on with you," he said. "I have business to do with rational people who know the true shape of the world. You're wasting my time."

I felt myself p.r.i.c.kling with irritation, but forced myself to keep it off my face. "I also need a crossbow," I said.

He shook his head. "No, I've already told you. No loans or favors."

"I can offer goods in exchange."

He looked at me skeptically. "What sort of crossbow?"

"Any sort," I said. "It needn't be fancy. It just needs to work."

"Eight talents," he said.

I gave him a hard look. "Don't insult me. This is mundane contraband. I'll bet ten to a penny you can have one in two hours. If you try to gouge me, I'll just go over the river and get one from Heffron."

"Get one from Heffron and you'll have to carry it back from Imre," he said. "Constable would love seeing that."

I shrugged and began to get to my feet.

"Three talents and five," he said. "It'll be used, mind you. And a stirrup, not a crank."

I calculated in my head. "Will you accept an ounce of silver and a spool of finely drawn gold wire?" I asked, bringing them out from the pockets of my cloak.

Sleat's dark eyes unfocused slightly as he did his own internal calculations. "You drive a tight bargain." He picked up the spool of bright wire and the small ingot of silver. "There's a rain barrel behind the Grimsome Tannery. The crossbow will be there in fifteen minutes." He gave me an insulted look. "Two hours? You don't know anything about me at all."

Hours later Fela emerged from the shelves in the Archives and caught me with one hand against the four-plate door. I wasn't pus.h.i.+ng on it, exactly. Just pressing. Just checking to see if it was firmly closed. It was.

"I don't suppose they tell scrivs what's behind this?" I asked her without any hope.

"If they do, they haven't told me yet," Fela said, stepping close and reaching out to run her fingers along the grooves the letters made in the stone: Valaritas Valaritas. "I had a dream about the door once," she said. "Valaritas was the name of an old dead king. His tomb was behind the door."

"Wow," I said. "That's better than the dreams I have about it."

"What are yours?" She asked.

"Once I dreamed I saw light through the keyholes," I said. "But mostly I'm just standing here, staring at it, trying to get in." I frowned at the door. "As if standing outside while I'm awake isn't frustrating enough, I do it while I'm asleep too."

Fela laughed softly at that, then turned away from the door to face me. "I got your note," she said. "What's the research project you were so vague about?"

"Let's go somewhere private to talk," I said. "It's a bit of a story."

We made our way to one of the reading holes, and once the door was closed I told her the whole story, embarra.s.sments and all. Someone was practicing malfeasance against me. I couldn't go to the masters for fear of revealing I was the one who had broken into Ambrose's rooms. I needed a gram to protect myself, but I didn't know enough sygaldry to make one.

"Malfeasance," she said in a low voice, slowly shaking her head in dismay. "You're sure?"

I unb.u.t.toned my s.h.i.+rt and took it down off my shoulder, revealing the dark bruise on my shoulder from the attack I'd only managed to partially stop.

She leaned in to look at it. "And you really don't know who it might be?"

"Not really," I said, trying not to think of Devi. I wanted to keep that particular bad decision to myself for now. "I'm sorry to drag you into this, but you're the only one ..."

Fela waved her hands in negation. "None of that. I told you to ask if you ever needed a favor, and I'm glad you did."

"I'm glad you're glad," I said. "If you can get me through this, I'll owe you instead. I'm getting better at finding what I want in here, but I'm still new."