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Saiman nodded.
Oh crap. “It’s that damn cat, isn’t it?”
“The oak produces an acorn once every seven years. Seven months, seven days, and seven hours after the a
corn falls from the tree, it will crack and grow into the World Oak. In effect, the tree manifests at the location of the acorn for the period of seven minutes.”
I frowned. “Let me guess. You stole the acorn from the Russians and swallowed it.”
Saiman nodded.
“Why? Are you eager to hear a bedtime story?”
“The cat possesses infinite knowledge. Seven minutes is time enough to ask and hear an answer to one question. Only the owner of the acorn can ask the question.”
I shook my head. “Saiman, nothing is free. You have to pay for everything, knowledge included. What will it cost you to ask a question?”
“The price is irrelevant if I get an answer.” Saiman smiled.
I sighed. “Answer my question: Why do smart people tend to be stupid?”
“Because we think we know better. We think that our intellect affords us special privileges and lets us beat the odds. That’s why talented mathematicians try to defraud casinos and young brilliant mages make bargains with forces beyond their control.”
Well, he answered the question.
“When is the acorn due for its big kaboom?”
“In four hours and forty-seven minutes.”
“The volkhvi will tear this high-rise apart stone by stone to get it back, and I’m your last line of defense?”
“That’s an accurate assessment. I did ask for the best person available.”
I sighed. “Still want that sandwich?”
“Very much.”
I headed to the door.
“Kate?”
“Yes?”
“The endar?”
I turned to him. “Why were you chained?”
Saiman grimaced. “The acorn makes it difficult to control my magic. It forces me to continuously change shape. Most of the time I’m able to keep the changes subtle, but once in a while the acorn causes contortions. Gina Castor walked in on me during such a moment. I’m afraid I was convulsing, so my recollection may be somewhat murky, but I do believe I had at least one partially formed breast and three arms. She overreacted. Odd, considering her profile.”
“Her profile?”
“I studied my bodyguards very carefully,” Saiman said. “I handpicked three teams. The first refused to take the job, the second was out due to injuries. Castor and Rodriguez were my third choice.”
I went back to the bed and ducked under it. They’d chained him with a small padlock. Lock picking wasn’t my strong suit. I looked around and saw the small key on the dresser. It took me a good five minutes to unwrap him.
“Thank you.” He rose, rubbing his chest, marked by red pressure lines. “May I ask why?”
“Nobody should die chained to the bed.”
