Yendi by Steven Brust

couldn't believe it was really happening. I had known all along that my life was in danger, but I hadn't really believed that I, Vlad Taltos, assassin, could be taken out as easily as any Teckla on the street. But Glowbug was down, and I saw the hilt of a dagger protruding from Varg's back. He was still conscious, trying to crawl toward me, his mouth working silently.
    Then my reflexes took over, as I realized that I was still alive, and that Wym and Miraf'n would be covering me from behind. I reached for my rapier as I tried to spot the knife-thrower, and--" Behind you, boss! "
    I spun, and got a glimpse of Wyrn and Miraf'n backing away as a tall Dragaeran with--wait a minute. Backing away? They were. They were watching me closely as they carefully stepped backwards, away from the scene. Meanwhile, a tall Dragaeran was coming at me, slowly and steadily, with a great sword in her hands. I changed my mind about the rapier and drew a throwing knife with each hand. I wanted to get at least those two bastards who had sold me out. Loiosh left my shoulder, flying into the face of the assassin before me. That gave me the time I needed to take aim and--Something told me to dodge, so I did, to my right, as something sharp scraped along the right side of my back. I spun, both daggers flashing, and--Loiosh screamed psionically as there was a ripping in my left side, from behind. I realized that the assassin with the greatsword had gotten past Loiosh. I felt a coldness, and I became aware that there was a piece of steel actually inside of me, among my bones and muscles and organs, and I felt sick. I ignored my desire to turn that way, and found the one who had attacked from behind. She was very short and held a pair of large fighting knives. She was staring straight at me, dispassionately. The sword was taken from my side with a sudden wrenching, and I found myself on my knees. The assassin in front of me struck full forward, one knife cutting across for my throat, the other thrusting for my chest. I tried to force my arms up to parry--And there was blood flowing from her mouth, and she was falling at my feet. The knife she was slashing with scored a gash across my chest. As she hit the ground, the other blade found a home in my stomach. I heard flapping wings behind me and was pleased that Loiosh was alive, as I waited for the sword-stroke from behind that would finish me. Instead, I heard a voice that sounded remarkably like Aliera's, crying, "You--you're a Dragon!" And the ringing sound of clashing steel. Somehow, I twisted around as I fell, and saw that it was, indeed, Aliera, wielding a great-sword that was taller than she was, and dueling with the assassin. Watching them was Morrolan himself, fury on his face, Blackwand in his hand. Aliera's blade swung high as the assassin's cut low and Loiosh said, " Twist! "
    I did, but not in time to prevent the other one, who was still alive, from planting her dagger, to the hilt, in my kidney. There was pain such as I had never felt before, and I screamed. A muscle spasm jerked me to my knees and around and down, flat on my stomach, on the blade that was already there, and I only wanted to die quickly and have it over.
    For an instant before I got my wish, my face was a few inches from the other assassin's, blood still streaming from her mouth, her eyes set in a look of grim determination. I suddenly realized that she was an Easterner. That almost hurt more than the rest of it, but then the pain went away, and me with it.

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    "I guess there's just a time for doing dumb things." Lingering trace of a fading green light, but no eyes to see it with. Memory like a well, awareness like a bucket--but who pulls the rope? It occurred to me that "me" had occurred. Existence without sensation, and the bucket hadn't yet reached the water. I knew what "sight" was when it came, and I found myself staring into a pair of bright round things that I eventually realized were