They combined to form a closet-sized anteroom which could probably be flooded with anything from boiling water to molten lead. If there were anyone alive in the house to do so. The doorkeeper spoke in a thin, breathy voice, but its chest did not rise and fall.
"It isn't real," Khamwas said, speaking in some different universe in which Samlor was not focused in terrified
DAGGER
43
determination on the unhuman
unalive
doorkeeper of this house. "It's a
simulacrum like the
"
"No one will see you," the doorkeeper repeated without emphasis. It swung the panel shut, thrusting Samlor violently backward even though he tried to brace himself by stiffening his supporting leg behind him.
"I will have Star's legacy!" the caravan master shouted as he hurled himself against the door, slamming into it with the meat of his left shoulder. The panel thumped but did not rebound. The bar crashed into place.
"I willl" Samlor cried again. "Depend on it!" His voice echoed, but there was no sound at all from within the house.
"It wasn't really present," said Khamwas, touching the other man's shoulder to calm him.
"It's there enough for me," said Samlor grimly, massaging his bruised shoulder with the faceted knife-hilt. "Might've tried t' stop a landslide for all I could do to keep it from slamming the door."
At a venture, he poked his daggerblade through the slit beside the door, in and out quickly like a snake licking the air. Nothing touched the metal, nor was there any other response.
"He who shakes the stone," said
warned?
Tjainufi, "will have it fall on his
foot."
"I mean," said Khamwas hastily to deflect possible wrath from his manikin, "that it's no more than a part of the door. A trick only, without volition or consciousness. It's carrying out the last order it was given, the way a bolt lies in its groove when the master releases it. No one may be present."
"If we go in there," said Star distinctly, pointing at the door, "we'll be
krrkl"
The child cocked her head up as if her neck had been wrung. "Like chickens," she added as she relaxed, grinning.
Samlor's breath wheezed out. He had thought
"Well, Star," said the Napatan scholar, "I might be able to keep the wraith from moving for a time, long enough for
44
David Drake
DAGGER
45
us to get past the ... zone of which it's a part. 1 might. But I think we'd best not go in by this door until Setios permits us to pass." The two of them smiled knowingly at one another.
Samlor restrained his impulse to do something pointlessly violent. He looked at the blade of his knife instead of glaring at his companions and began in a very reasonable tone, "In that case, we'd best get some sleep and
"
"Actually," said Khamwas, not so much interrupting as speaking without being aware that Samlor was in the middle of a statement, "neither of us have business with Setios himself, only with items in his possession. I wonder. ..."
"/ want my gift now," said Star, her face set in the slanting lines of temper. Either she tossed her head slightly, or the whorl of white strands in her curly black hair moved on its own.
Go in now read the iron letters on the blade at which Samlor stared in anger. There was too little light for the markings to be visible, but he saw them nonetheless.
"Heqt take you all to the waters beneath the earth!" shouted the Cirdonian in fury. He slashed the air with his dagger as if to wipe away the message crawling there in the metal. "I'm not a burglar, and coming to this damned city doesn't make me one."
"When you are hungry, eat what you despise," said the manikin on Khamwas'
shoulder. "When you are full, despise it."
"Anyway," said Star, "it's going to rain, Uncle Samlor." She looked smug at the unanswerable truth of her latest argument.
The caravan master began to laugh.
Khamwas blinked, as frightened by the apparent humor as he had been by the anger that preceded it. Emotional outbursts by a man as dangerous as the caravan master were
"It isn't real," Khamwas said, speaking in some different universe in which Samlor was not focused in terrified
DAGGER
43
determination on the unhuman
unalive
doorkeeper of this house. "It's a
simulacrum like the
"
"No one will see you," the doorkeeper repeated without emphasis. It swung the panel shut, thrusting Samlor violently backward even though he tried to brace himself by stiffening his supporting leg behind him.
"I will have Star's legacy!" the caravan master shouted as he hurled himself against the door, slamming into it with the meat of his left shoulder. The panel thumped but did not rebound. The bar crashed into place.
"I willl" Samlor cried again. "Depend on it!" His voice echoed, but there was no sound at all from within the house.
"It wasn't really present," said Khamwas, touching the other man's shoulder to calm him.
"It's there enough for me," said Samlor grimly, massaging his bruised shoulder with the faceted knife-hilt. "Might've tried t' stop a landslide for all I could do to keep it from slamming the door."
At a venture, he poked his daggerblade through the slit beside the door, in and out quickly like a snake licking the air. Nothing touched the metal, nor was there any other response.
"He who shakes the stone," said
warned?
Tjainufi, "will have it fall on his
foot."
"I mean," said Khamwas hastily to deflect possible wrath from his manikin, "that it's no more than a part of the door. A trick only, without volition or consciousness. It's carrying out the last order it was given, the way a bolt lies in its groove when the master releases it. No one may be present."
"If we go in there," said Star distinctly, pointing at the door, "we'll be
krrkl"
The child cocked her head up as if her neck had been wrung. "Like chickens," she added as she relaxed, grinning.
Samlor's breath wheezed out. He had thought
"Well, Star," said the Napatan scholar, "I might be able to keep the wraith from moving for a time, long enough for
44
David Drake
DAGGER
45
us to get past the ... zone of which it's a part. 1 might. But I think we'd best not go in by this door until Setios permits us to pass." The two of them smiled knowingly at one another.
Samlor restrained his impulse to do something pointlessly violent. He looked at the blade of his knife instead of glaring at his companions and began in a very reasonable tone, "In that case, we'd best get some sleep and
"
"Actually," said Khamwas, not so much interrupting as speaking without being aware that Samlor was in the middle of a statement, "neither of us have business with Setios himself, only with items in his possession. I wonder. ..."
"/ want my gift now," said Star, her face set in the slanting lines of temper. Either she tossed her head slightly, or the whorl of white strands in her curly black hair moved on its own.
Go in now read the iron letters on the blade at which Samlor stared in anger. There was too little light for the markings to be visible, but he saw them nonetheless.
"Heqt take you all to the waters beneath the earth!" shouted the Cirdonian in fury. He slashed the air with his dagger as if to wipe away the message crawling there in the metal. "I'm not a burglar, and coming to this damned city doesn't make me one."
"When you are hungry, eat what you despise," said the manikin on Khamwas'
shoulder. "When you are full, despise it."
"Anyway," said Star, "it's going to rain, Uncle Samlor." She looked smug at the unanswerable truth of her latest argument.
The caravan master began to laugh.
Khamwas blinked, as frightened by the apparent humor as he had been by the anger that preceded it. Emotional outbursts by a man as dangerous as the caravan master were
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