The Legend Of Eli Monpress (114 page)

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he whispered harshly, though the calm smile never left his face.

“But we have to get Eli out of here,” Miranda whispered back.

“Yes,” Sparrow said. “And now he knows that. Never give information away, Miranda. Fortunately, the deal he just offered isn’t bad. Eli is still only one half of this operation. If you stay to make sure he remains caught, there’s a good chance you’ll come into contact with Slorn at some point. I’m going to take his deal to Zarin. You and Tesset will stay here. With Tesset doing the hunting, Slorn should be in hand by the time I get back, and then we can all leave together with our missions complete.”

“No,” Miranda said. “You’re not listening. If we wait, Eli
will
escape. I’ve caught him twice before, Sparrow. He’s slipperier than Zarin’s bookkeeping. I’ve put aside too much and worked too hard to accept a risk like this.”

“This is a negotiation, Miranda,” Sparrow said, and though his pleasant expression never changed, his voice was starting to sound annoyed. “You don’t get to just make demands. Sted has most of the cards. We have to compromise. Stay here, keep the thief underwater, look for Slorn, and I’ll be back in a month. Everything else is details.”

Miranda glared at the floor. He didn’t understand that this whole situation was going to fall apart if it depended on keeping Eli caught. But before she could think of
another way to explain things, Eli spoke up, his voice ringing loud and clear through the throne room.

“What about my swordsman?”

Eli smiled smugly as everyone turned to look at him. “My head may be worth more than some kings see in a lifetime,” he said, “but Josef carries the Heart of War. The Head Wizard of the Council is a collector of oddities, isn’t she? She would never forgive you if you let the greatest awakened blade ever created go without a fight.”

Sted lurched forward, but Izo’s voice stopped him.

“The sword is already spoken for.”

Eli’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is that so? King Izo, you’re a cleverer bargainer than I gave you credit for, keeping the best prize safely off the table.”

“Will you
shut
up
?” Miranda hissed, knocking Eli down with a wave of water.

“That’s because it’s not Izo’s to give!” Sted roared. “Liechten and the Heart were promised to me!”

“Sted!” Now it was Izo’s turn to shout. He glared down from his throne at the enormous man, red-faced with rage. “Everything in my domain is mine to give if I please! I am king here!” He whirled to face Sparrow. “I’ll make you another deal. You need the thief out quickly? Fine, I’d rather not wait to be king. I know you have a Relay link on you that allows you to talk directly to your mistress in Zarin. Tell her that she can have everything—Monpress, the Heart of whatever, freedom to hunt down your rogue wizard,
everything
, if Merchant Prince Whitefall himself comes up to welcome me as an equal to the Council by the next full moon.”

“Merchant Prince Whitefall?” Miranda almost laughed out loud. “You want the Head of the Council of Thrones,
the Grand Marshal of Zarin, to come
here
? Have you lost your little bandit mind?”

“No,” Izo said coldly. “But you will lose your Spiritualist tongue if you speak to me that way again.”

Miranda bristled, but snapped her mouth shut when Sparrow’s hand grabbed and nearly crushed her arm.

“Forgive my companion,” Sparrow said, his voice honeyed and dripping with sincerity. “She is a Spiritualist and a native of Zarin, and as such suffers from an overinflated sense of importance.” Miranda shot him a sharp look, and the grip on her arm tightened until she could no longer feel her fingers before he let go.

“It’s late,” Sparrow said. “Minds are tired and tempers are running short. I will bring your offer to my mistress and have an answer for you by morning. Thank you so much for your generous hospitality, King Izo.”

He bowed genteelly and turned on his heel, marching out of the hall. Miranda followed a second later, dragging Eli behind her. The thief went with a bemused grin on his face and a little wink at Sted, who was in the corner turning purple with rage while Sezri held him back. Gin joined them when they reached the keep stairs and fell in behind Eli, glaring straight at the thief with his teeth bared. Now that Gin was looking after their prisoner, Miranda was free to turn on Sparrow.

“We were just getting into negotiations,” she whispered. “Why did you make us leave?”

“Because it was time to leave,” Sparrow said. “Or didn’t you see the murder in the big one’s eyes?”

Miranda looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, she could see Sted through the iron gate shouting something at Izo, who was rising from his throne in red-faced fury as he answered.

“Stop looking,” Sparrow said sharply.

Miranda turned back to the torch-lit road. “Whatever you say; one night won’t make a difference,” she grumbled. “There’s no way you’re getting Whitefall up here.”

Sparrow’s grin vanished, and he looked sideways at her with a condescending sneer. “You assume too much,
darling
. There are two pillars that prop up the Council of Thrones. The first is Merchant Prince Whitefall; the second is Sara. If push came to shove she could have the entire Whitefall family up here tomorrow, and for a combination of Slorn, Eli Monpress, and the Heart of War, she just might. She’s been talking about that sword for years, but has never been able to find it.” His voice softened, and he tilted his head thoughtfully. “Who would have thought its current wielder would be traveling with the thief? Though it makes sense, considering the spectacular feats his group has pulled off.”

Eli burst out laughing at that, though the sound turned into a squeak when Gin bit him. Sparrow blithely ignored the entire affair.

“I’m going to check on Tesset,” he said. “Then I’ll drop by the infirmary to see this Heart of War for myself. You go back to the house and lock the thief down for the night. Tomorrow, I’ll answer Izo’s demands. You can come along if you promise to keep your mouth shut this time.”

“No promises,” Miranda said, halting at the door of the house they shared.

Sparrow didn’t even stop, he just waved his hand as he walked down the dirt street toward the barracks where the infirmary was set up. Miranda watched him go for a moment and then turned on her heel and stomped off the other way, looking for one of Izo’s men to bully into
giving her her own building to stay in. Gin stayed close behind her, his eyes pinned on the water-bound Eli as he bumped along behind in his liquid prison.

Back in Izo’s hall the air was growing violently tense. Sted stood at the base of the stairs to Izo’s seat, held back only by Sezri’s slender hand across his chest. “You have no right!” he roared. “Liechten is mine!”

“I have every right!” Izo shouted back, standing before his throne with his hand on his sword. “Everything in this land is mine to do with as I please, and I will not have my rights disputed in front of my guests by one of my own men!”

“I’m none of yours!” Sted bellowed. “I’m no one’s servant! I am Berek Sted! I came back from death for this, and I
will
have my rematch with Josef Liechten even if I have to do it on your corpse!”

“Sted!” The demonseed’s thin fingers dug into the larger man’s cape-covered chest.

“No, Sezri.” Izo sneered. “Let the ox bellow. Your Master has been a good ally to me, but I will not be told how to handle my affairs. I rule this land, make no mistake, and I will use its prisoners as I see fit.” He sat back down on his throne, drawing his sword and laying it across his lap as he glared at Sted. “Leave. I grow tired of your tantrums. Tomorrow, I’ll decide what’s to be done with the swordsman. Beg your Master that I don’t also decide what’s to be done with you.”

For a moment, Sted’s eyes went wild. He pressed against Sezri until the smaller man began to tilt and it looked like Sted would fall on Izo like a tiger. But then, like a curtain falling over a lamp, the furious light went
out. Sted stepped back, turned on his heel, and marched out of the hall, slamming the iron gate as he left. Sezri watched him leave, never moving until Sted’s enormous shadow vanished into the night.

“That,” he said, turning to look at Izo, “was a very foolish game to play.”

Izo waved dismissively. “I’ve been leading bandits for fifteen years. You think I don’t know how to handle men like Sted?”

“Sted isn’t one of your thugs.” Sezri’s voice was sharp with disgust. “Have you forgotten whom he serves?”

“Men like that don’t serve anyone but themselves,” Izo said, laughing. “Your Master is kidding himself if he thinks otherwise.”

“My Master sees all things,” Sezri said quietly. “It is by his goodwill alone that you have risen as far as you have. You would do well to keep that in mind.”

“He helped,” Izo said. “He gave me monsters like you, but I was the one who planned the raids, who beat the other bosses. I was the one who took every two-bit gang from here to the coast and turned them into an army capable of taking on Council cities. True, it would have taken me much longer without your Master’s aid, but he has received good payment for what he’s given. I’ve kept my end of the deal. Slaves flow from my camps to the Dead Mountain every day. Now it’s his turn. He promised to make me a king of the Council, and I will hold him to his debt.”

“And you shall be king,” Sezri said. “Offering them the swordsman was nothing but foolish arrogance and impatience.”

“Call it what you will,” Izo said. “I did what I had to do to make the Council move. If that upsets your Master’s deal
with Sted, that’s not my problem. I’m not about to sit back and give up what I’m owed so your Master can pay another.”

Sezri clenched his fist. Izo’s arrogance was going too far. Inside him, he could feel the strength of the seed building, ready to lash out, to show this pathetic little man the true power of the Master. But before he could even think the command, the beloved voice filled his head.

Enough, Sezri.

The demonseed closed his eyes, nearly crying as the Master’s voice rolled across his mind.

Let the human do as he likes. All will be answered. Now, go and find a spirit you can devour without raising alarm. Your strength will be needed soon.

“Yes, Master,” Sezri whispered, bowing his head. “All will be as you command.”

The voice chuckled, sliding over his soul like a hand stroking a cat.
Such a good child.

“What was that?” Izo’s voice snapped Sezri from his euphoria, and the demonseed glared in disgust at the tiny, human spirit on his makeshift throne.

“Do as you like,” Sezri said, turning on his heel. “King Izo.”

There was a scrape behind him as Izo stood up. “I hope you’re going to check on Sted.”

Sezri didn’t answer. He simply stepped into a shadow and vanished, sliding through the dark until all he could feel was the seed inside him and the fading power of the Master’s voice on his soul. He stopped when he reached the forest just beyond the city. There, in the dark shadow of the trees, he began to hunt for a spirit that would suit the Master’s purpose, unaware of the pair of animal eyes watching him from branches above.

• • •

Nico sat in the dark in the corner of the small house, her coat draped over her head like a funeral shroud. Directly across from her, the tall man in the brown coat sat on a bench by the fire, staring at her. Outside, bandits were laughing and drinking; inside, the room was silent except for the low hissing of the coals. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the woods.

None of this would have happened if you’d just accept my gifts. The swordsman’s dead and it’s all your fault. You know that, don’t you?

Nico closed her eyes and buried her head in her knees.

Across the tiny room, the door opened, letting in a swirl of cold, smoky air before shutting again. Nico glanced up. A man wearing a green silk coat, green ballooning pants tucked into tall, polished boots, and a short blue cape with silver lining was standing in the entrance. He looked startlingly out of place, but the man sitting by the fire nodded a familiar greeting.

“Sparrow.”

“Tesset,” the foppish man replied as he bolted the door behind him.

The man in the brown coat, Tesset, waited until Sparrow was finished before asking, “How did it go?”

“The usual way,” Sparrow said, unhooking his cape with a shrug. “Wonderfully, then horribly, and finally stopping somewhere just short of acceptable. Izo’s no idiot, but he’s not subtle enough for politics. He played his hand straight and strong. Unfortunately, though not surprisingly, the Spiritualist and Monpress mucked things up. I had to make some large concessions, but I think we ended up with the better deal in the end.”

“What kind of concessions?”

“He wants his welcome to the Council issued by Whitefall himself,” Sparrow said, flopping down into a chair beside the fire. “Here, by the end of the month.”

Tesset winced. “That’s a tall order. Sara will have your skin.”

“I don’t think she’ll care one jot when she hears what she’ll be getting in exchange,” Sparrow said, grinning wide. “Not just the thief, but the Heart of War. Plus freedom to search for Slorn and all the other little things we’ll wring out once Izo’s prancing around in his crown like a little girl playing princess.”