The Legend Of Eli Monpress (115 page)

Nico’s head shot up, and she wasn’t alone. Even Tesset’s eyes went wide.

“The Heart of War?” Tesset said. “You mean the great awakened sword?”

“You know of anything else with such a pretentious name?” Sparrow yawned. “I just got back from having a look for myself. No wonder no one recognizes it. It looks like a piece of junk. Great big dented black metal monstrosity, almost as bad as those Fenzettis Sara made us hunt down last year. It didn’t even glow. Even the cheap awakened swords glow, but I didn’t see a thing.”

“How do you know it’s real, then?” Tesset said. “Sara won’t be happy if you make her pull strings for a bluff.”

“Who do you take me for?” Sparrow scoffed. “I tried to pick it up, but I couldn’t even move the hilt. Couldn’t even wiggle it. That sword has the weight of a mountain, just like Sara said. Fortunately, its wielder is still breathing or we’d be in real trouble, paying through the nose for a sword we can’t move.”

“Josef’s alive?”

Both men turned to glare at her, but Nico didn’t care. Her relief was like a crushing weight on her chest, grinding every other concern into dust. “Is he all right?”

Sparrow considered a moment before answering. “He’s alive for now, and less bloody than I’d expect. But seeing as he’s under the questionable care of Izo’s surgeons, all of whom seem to be bandits no more intelligent or sober than the common rabble, that’s all I can say for now.”

Nico took a deep breath, and Sparrow chuckled.

“This must be what they call ‘loyalty among thieves,’ ” he said. “Your concern is truly touching, but I suggest you worry less about the swordsman and more about yourself, darling. Of every piece of this expedition, yours is the most expendable. The only reason you’re alive right now is because of Slorn.”

Nico shrank back into her coat. “Slorn?”

“You’re something of a consolation prize,” Sparrow said, taking off his boots. “Slorn’s research on demonseeds and the corresponding nature of the spirits they inhabit is priceless. However, with the death of his current experimental specimen, my mistress is worried he’ll drift out of the field. That’s why we’re giving him you. Sara has long known of Slorn and Eli’s friendship and the coats he makes to hide your … condition. Your job will be to keep Slorn happy, give him something to study once we bring him back to Zarin. Assuming, of course, we can find him at all.” Sparrow frowned in annoyance. “He’s being very difficult at the moment. But don’t fret, darling. If nothing else, we’ll trade you in to the League. Sara just loves having Alric owe her favors.”

He spoke so fast his words made Nico dizzy. He reminded her of Eli when the thief was making a
particular effort to be as difficult as possible. Still, his point was clear enough. She was a payoff, either to Slorn or to the League. That alone gave her leverage, and if Eli had taught her anything, it was that leverage was never something to waste.

“If I cooperate,” Nico said slowly, “will you make sure Josef gets what he needs to heal?”

“Of course,” Sparrow said. “Considering we need his carcass to haul the Heart of War, he’s safer than you. Though don’t go getting any ideas. This can be as pleasant as you choose to make it. Sit in your corner like a good girl, don’t give Tesset any excuse to do what we pay him to do, and everything will be nice and smooth.” He reached into his waist pocket and pulled out something that looked like a blue glass ball on a leather thong, which he proceeded to roll between his fingers. “I’ve got to report in and get Sara to agree to all this, and then I’m going to bed. Tesset, since you never seem to sleep anyway, you’ve got night watch.”

Tesset nodded, never taking his eyes off Nico as Sparrow stood and climbed the ladderlike stairs into the house’s upper loft. There was some commotion as he settled into bed, and then a blue glow flashed in the dark. It shimmered for a moment, cold and watery on the cabin’s pointed ceiling, before vanishing as he threw his covers over it. If she strained her ears, Nico could just make out Sparrow’s hushed voice speaking as though he were having a conversation. No matter how hard she listened, however, she couldn’t make out the words. Eventually, she sat back against the wall and turned her attention to Tesset, who hadn’t moved an inch from his seat by the fire.

Unbidden, her eyes went to the smooth, unmarred skin
of his throat, and the black arm she kept buried against her chest began to itch and tremble. How had he done it? She’d felt the connection open, felt the demon as it started to eat him. How had he pushed it back?

Across the room, Tesset’s eyes flicked from the fire to meet hers again. “You’re wondering how I stopped you?”

Nico froze. Could he read minds as well?

“Go on,” he said. “Ask. The first step toward knowledge is a question.”

Nico bit her lip. This could be a bluff, a trick to get her to reveal a weakness. But the man across from her didn’t seem like the tricky type, and Sparrow had made it perfectly clear she meant little to them. Underneath her coat, her arm was itching more than ever, and she decided to risk it.

“How did you do it?”

“I’ve already told you,” Tesset answered. “Back in the woods. You could not eat me because I did not will it.”

“I don’t understand,” Nico said. “Will stops spirits, not demons.”

“And what are you?” Tesset said.

Nico looked down at the floor. “A demonseed.”

“Wrong,” Tesset snapped. “The demonseed is what’s inside you. But you are a human, the greatest spirit of all. The spirit with will, who can control all others.”

“That’s not true,” Nico said. “A wizard can’t control another human.”

Tesset stood up, pulling his bench closer to Nico’s corner until he was almost on top of her. “We have a long night ahead,” he said, sitting down. “Let me tell you a story.”

“What kind of story?” Nico said, pressing her back to
the wall. This close, it took all of her strength to keep her arm from lashing out again. She kept it pinned behind her, the long demon claws scraping at the back of her coat.

“The best kind,” Tesset said, settling in with no care for the danger of being so close to a demonseed. “A true one.”

He gave her a knowing smile and began.

“I was born in these mountains, and like all male children born here, I joined a bandit gang as soon as I was old enough to follow orders. I was a hotheaded boy with a small, closed mind and a knack for getting in fights. A good bandit, in other words. I was also a wizard, someone who could listen to the winds and trees passably well. A powerful combination, and one that landed me a nice position in Mel’s Red Fist, the largest and most fearsome of the bandit gangs at that time. I loved being in the Red Fist. This was thirty years ago, before the Council of Thrones was around to give bandits a hard time. Pickings were fat, and we were the richest, scariest guys around. That’s a heady thing for a kid, and I was deadly loyal to Mel, the man who’d brought it all together and the greatest fighter I’d ever seen.

“The day after I turned seventeen, we returned to our camp to find a man waiting for us. This wasn’t unusual. We often had vagabonds and deserters from other bandit gangs show up begging to join the Red Fist, but this man was different. He was the largest man I’d ever seen. He had no weapon, and he was dressed in rags and cast-off furs, but the way he carried himself made other fighters look like bumbling toddlers. He just stood there in the center of camp as we rode in, making our usual ruckus, and when we were quiet, he asked which of us was the boss.

“After a good laugh at the stranger’s expense, Mel rode forward and announced that he was the leader of the Red Fist. As soon as he said this, the stranger challenged him to a fight. He’d heard Mel was the strongest of the bandit leaders, having the biggest, strongest gang and a nasty reputation as a dirty fighter, and he wanted to see for himself. Mel said this was all true and accepted the challenge. While Mel got his ax, we stood around laughing and arguing over who would get stuck digging a grave for this idiot who was stupid enough to challenge our boss. The stranger, however, was still unarmed. Mel told the man to draw a weapon, and the stranger replied that he would if he needed one. This made Mel furious, and he charged, meaning to cut the stranger’s head off. The next moment, Mel was on the ground in a pool of his own blood and the stranger was walking away.”

Tesset shook his head. “None of us saw a thing. One second Mel was charging, the next he was down. He died a few minutes later. Of our entire gang, I was the first to recover, and the first thing I did was run after the stranger. I’d never seen a fight like that. Mel had always been my idol, the ceiling of how far a man could rise. Then this stranger appears and in one blow shows me that the top is further than I could ever imagine. So I caught up with him. He was moving slowly, like he was disappointed. When I reached him, he grabbed me around the throat and asked if I wanted to avenge my boss. I didn’t even see his hand move. I told him that I’d never seen a man move like him. Could he teach me, or at least tell me his name?”

“And did he?” Nico asked.

Tesset chuckled. “No. He dropped me on the ground and told me to go home. But Mel was gone, and I had no
home to go to. So I kept following him. The man walked day and night, but somehow I stuck to his trail. Every time I caught up, I would ask him to teach me. Looking back, I was desperate. I’d based my whole life around being strong, and in one motion this man had blown away my entire idea of strength. I couldn’t let him just walk away. So I made a nuisance of myself and, finally, after a month of eating his dust, the man turned and asked me my name. I told him, and he shook his head. ‘That’s a weak name,’ he said. ‘From today, your name is Tesset. If you want to learn from me, I’ll give you six months. Anything you learn during that time is yours to keep. After that, we’re enemies, and if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.’ ”

Tesset began to laugh. “I was terrified of course, but I didn’t want to look weak. I agreed, calling the man Master. He told me no man was master over anyone but himself, and that I was to call him by his name, Den.”

Nico’s eyes went wide. “Den the Warlord,” she whispered. “The man from the bounty posters?”

Tesset nodded. “Of course, this was before the war, before he betrayed the Council. But he kept his word to me, and for six months he taught me one thing.”

“One thing?” Nico said.

“Yes,” Tesset said. “It was something I’d always known, what all wizards know, but most will never understand.” Tesset placed his hand on his chest. “As a human, a wizard has will. This will is what gives him control over all the world save only the spirits of other humans. However, there is one human spirit a wizard does control.” Tesset thumped his hand on his chest. “His own. My body and my soul are subject to my will. Just as an enslaver can make a mountain rise up and walk to the sea if his spirit
is strong enough, so can I make my body do impossible things by conquering my soul with my will. Once a man has mastered himself, he has no king, no conqueror, no predator but himself, and that, demonseed, is the answer to your question.”

Nico could not believe what she was hearing. “It can’t be that simple,” she whispered.

“It’s not,” Tesset said. “But that doesn’t make it untrue.” Faster than she could react, he lunged forward and grabbed her arm, the demon arm she’d been keeping pressed behind her. She pulled back frantically, but he was stronger than her, stronger than anyone she’d ever fought, and his grip didn’t even shake as he pulled her black, clawed hand into his own. The demon hand clawed at Tesset’s skin like a hungry beast scenting food, and Nico squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for eating to begin. But nothing happened. There was no roaring connection, no feeling of another spirit pouring into her. Nico cracked her eyes a fraction and then opened them in wonder at the sight of her clawed hand clutched between Tesset’s palms, his tan skin whole and sound.

Tesset’s dark eyes met hers, and when he spoke, his voice was an iron bell. “There is nothing you or your demon can do to me if I do not will it,” he said. “I am master of myself, and nothing can happen to me unless I allow it. Do you understand now?”

Nico stared at their clasped hands. “No,” she whispered. “Teach me.”

Tesset smiled and released her. “I have already taught you.”

Nico gaped at him. “No,” she said, grabbing his hand again. “You have to teach me how to do it.”

Tesset gripped her fingers so hard they ached. “I taught you as Den taught me,” he said. “It is so simple, yet it has taken me over thirty years to get to where I am now. But it is not a matter of strength or training or anything else won by hard work. It is a matter of understanding. A child could master it in one day if only their mind were free enough. To truly become master of yourself, you must be willing to throw everything else away. Fear, anger, doubt; these things undermine your authority. You must become as an enslaver to your own soul. Once you have achieved that, nothing can control or limit you ever again.”

Nico stared at him, bewildered. But Tesset just smiled, releasing her hand.

“It helps to find a goal,” he said, his gruff voice almost wistful as he leaned back to stare at the fire. “Mastering your soul becomes easier when you’re chasing something greater than yourself. Mine is to meet Den one more time before I die and finally fight him as an equal.”

“But,” Nico said, “he’s had that enormous bounty on his head for twenty-five years now with no news. How do you even know he’s still alive?”