The Spirit Rebellion (33 page)

“Are you crazy?” he shouted. “I don’t know about wizard stuff, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be any doors to charm this time, Eli. If the duke was good enough to trap us like this, he’s certainly good enough to keep you in chains.”

“Don’t worry,” Eli said. “Even without the spirits, I’m Eli Monpress. There isn’t a prison in the world that can hold me.” He winked at the elder Monpress as he said this, but the old thief just rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I’ll break out and meet you at the safe house. Whatever the duke did to wake up the town, he can’t keep it up forever or he would have done it the second he saw me, back at the treasury. I don’t actually know how he managed this, but simple spirits need a huge amount of energy to stay awake, which I doubt the duke can provide indefinitely. The town will have to go
back to sleep sooner or later, and that’s when we’ll run. Sound good?”

“No,” Josef grumbled, “but I’ll take it.” He glared at Eli as he walked away. “Don’t get yourself killed, idiot.”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Eli called back, but the others were already jogging down the alley away from him.

Smiling, Eli began to jog the other way.

He ran along the wall, waving at each light as it lit up when he passed. The little alley he was on widened into a street as he reached his chosen destination, the city’s northern gate. Sure enough, as he’d guessed, there was a small knot of conscript guards, half a dozen at least, standing at attention before the closed doors. They were rough-looking boys mostly, farmers’ sons, Eli guessed, and all gripping their swords like fire pokers as they stared wide-eyed at the twisting, awakened city.

Moving silently along the wall, Eli snuck up behind the smallest boy and, after adjusting his clothes and smoothing back his hair, Eli tapped the young conscript on the shoulder. The boy jumped two feet with a deafening yelp, dropping his sword. The other guards held together more admirably, whirling to face Eli with their swords drawn. Eli, surrounded on all sides, leaned back against the gate and raised his hands with a charming smile.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You’ve caught Eli Monpress.”

He had time for one last grin before all six guards jumped him.

T
he rest of the army arrived just as the guards threw Eli on the ground. The career soldiers were on him at once, pushing the conscripts aside and slapping enough iron on Eli’s wrists to make a miner jealous. The boys protested and won the right to be the ones to march Eli to the citadel, which they did with great cockiness. Eli went right along with it, grinning and waving as best he could with his shackled hands. He actually liked getting caught a great deal. People were always so excited.

By the time they reached the steps of the citadel, every soldier in Gaol, conscript and professional, was marching with them, shouting and cheering. But the merry mood vanished when a tall man in somber clothes came down the steps to meet them. Eli gritted his teeth. It was the wizard from before, and he looked unpleasantly smug as he took Eli’s chain.

“I want the conscript troops on patrol,” he said, wrapping the chain around his hand. “Keep the city on
lockdown until I give the signal to stop. Guardsmen, I want you inside the citadel. Double posts at all times.”

“Yes, my lord.” The response was a dull roar from a thousand throats as the soldiers saluted and began to break into units. The man watched them for a moment and then, keeping Eli’s chain taut, turned and walked the thief into the citadel.

“Let me guess,” Eli said, struggling to keep up. “You’re the duke, right?”

“Correct, Mr. Monpress,” the duke said. “I am Edward di Fellbro, Duke of Gaol, and your master now, so you will hold your words unless spoken to.”

“I’m afraid there’s a bit of a mix-up,” Eli said. “The only master I answer to is myself.”

The duke’s answer to that was a long, thin smile as he led Eli up the stairs to the very top of the fortress. As they walked, the fortress responded. Doors opened on their own to let them pass, chairs scooted out of their way, and curtains pulled back to make room.

“That’s an impressive trick,” Eli said, marveling as a pair of washbuckets rolled themselves behind a corner, out of the duke’s sight. “How do you manage it?”

“I am a firm believer in obedience,” the duke answered. “You’ll learn it as well, soon enough.”

When they reached the smaller nest of towers and courtyards at the top of the citadel, the duke marched Eli around a garden and through a heavy door and into a well-appointed study. The large stone room had many windows looking out across the city and the countryside beyond. As soon as they were inside, however, every window but the last closed its shutters, and the heavy door locked itself behind them.

When the room was secure, the duke let go of Eli’s chain.

“You may take off your manacles now, Mr. Monpress,” the duke said, settling himself comfortably in a high-backed chair. “There is no need for this to be uncomfortable unless you force me to make it so.”

Eli stared at the gray-haired man, not quite sure what to make of him. But the duke just sat there, waiting, so Eli turned around and fished a straight pin out of his sleeve with his teeth. He picked the manacle lock in five seconds flat and turned back around, tossing the irons on the carpet at the duke’s feet.

“Any other tricks while I’m performing?” Eli said. “Should I dance?”

“You should sit,” the duke said, gesturing to the stool in the corner.

Seeing no point in refusing, Eli sat.

“So,” Eli said, “you’ve caught me. Congratulations! Shouldn’t you be sending someone to the Council to collect your reward?” He looked around at the opulent study, the colorful tapestries and carved-wood tables. “I have to admit, I always hoped it would be a poor country that caught me, or some honest bounty hunter. Someone who could use the money. Gaol scarcely seems in need of sixty thousand standards.”

“It’s not an amount to scoff at,” the duke said. “But you should know, Mr. Monpress, I didn’t catch you for the bounty.”

Eli stopped. “You didn’t?”

“No,” the duke said. “I must admit, Mr. Monpress, you’ve been an immensely interesting hobby. You first came to my attention three years ago, when you stole the
crown jewels of Kerket. Since then I’ve been following you closely, and you’ve never disappointed, every theft grander than the last. It’s really quite remarkable.”

“I’m always delighted to meet a fan,” Eli said with a pleased smile. “But you didn’t have to go through all this effort if you just wanted to meet me. I do respond to letters, you know.”

“I know,” the duke said absently. “I have several of yours. Intercepted in travel and bought for a price higher than I was wise to pay.”

Eli gave him a shocked look. “You
bought
my mail?”

“Yes,” the duke said. “To learn more about you. To learn how to catch you. As you see, it paid off. Here you are.”

“Here I am,” Eli said. “And are you satisfied?”

“I must admit,” the duke said, looking Eli over, “I didn’t expect you to be quite so like the caricature you present to the world. You seem every bit as cocky and irresponsible as your deriders make you out to be. I had hoped to find the real Monpress a man of greater depth than the boy in the posters.”

“Well, you did just trap and arrest me,” Eli said. “I could hardly be expected to show my true colors under such conditions.”

“Quite so,” the duke said and nodded. “But we shall see what you are made of soon enough.”

Eli swallowed. Something in the way the duke spoke hinted that he wasn’t using the phrase in a figurative sense.

“So,” Eli said, shifting in his chair. “If you didn’t catch me for the sixty thousand, and you didn’t catch me for the conversation, why am I here?”

The duke gave him a thin smile. “
Fifty-five
thousand, which is what the Council lists as your bounty, is hardly enough money to justify the great expense and enormous trouble of catching you. Especially once we factor in what the Council will take back in taxes, tariffs, and fees. I’d be surprised if there was enough left over to pay Gaol’s Council dues.”

“Then why bother?” Eli said. “Conscripting that army of millers, farmers, and shopkeepers outside must have been an enormous headache, and let’s not forget the spirits.” He glared at the duke. “I don’t know how you got control over so many spirits at once, or what you threatened them with so that they won’t talk to me, but I can guarantee that if the Spiritualists ever find out about your little dictatorship here, they will come down on Gaol like a swarm of locusts. Seems a great risk on your part for a reward you claim not to want.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” the duke said. “The spirits of Gaol have been mine since long before you appeared.”

“So what then?” Eli leaned forward. “Did you just catch me to prove something? Personal challenge? If so, bravo and well done; can I go now?”

The duke chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Catching the uncatchable thief does bring a certain feeling of accomplishment—pleasant enough, but meaningless in the end. I’m a duke, Mr. Monpress, and as a duke I must think as a country, not as a man.”

He stood up from his seat, pacing back and forth like a professor expounding his theory. “As I said earlier, I’ve followed your exploits for some time now, and over the years, I’ve noticed something of a discrepancy. Let’s
take your robbery of Kerket. The crown jewels consisted of eight pieces, including the scepter of Kerket, which contains the Sea Star, the largest sapphire in the world. Technically priceless, though I imagine you would get only around ten thousand standards for it on the open market, and that’s
if
you could find a buyer willing to take the risk. Still, ten thousand standards, and that’s just one jewel in one piece of the set. Any normal thief would have retired to a life of luxury after that, but you, you show up in Billerouge not a month later to steal seven paintings from the royal collection. Again, technically priceless, but I estimate fifteen thousand for each at least, likely more.

“How strange, then,” the duke said, fanning his fingers as he spoke, “that none of these famous items have ever re-emerged. In fact,
nothing
you steal ever shows up again. Every time you’re spotted, you’re wearing the same threadbare clothing. You seem to have no lands, or, if you do, you certainly spend no time on them, considering you’re spotted in a different country nearly every month. So far as I can tell, you travel mostly by foot, primarily through wilderness, and of all the hundreds of reports I’ve collected from the Council about your exploits, not a single one has mentioned you ever spending more than twenty standards at a go.” He stopped and looked at Eli. “Do you see where this is headed?”

Eli shrugged, and the duke gave him a slow smile.

“You’ve been on the Council bounty list for what?” He shrugged. “A little more than three years? I estimate that in that time you’ve stolen approximately three hundred and fifty thousand Council standards’ worth of goods, not counting what was stolen from my own treasury.” His grin widened. “To put that in perspective, three hundred and
fifty thousand standards is more than the entire yearly tariff income of the Council of Thrones.
That
is the number that caught my attention, Mr. Monpress, not the fifty-five thousand those idiots in Zarin say you’re worth.”

Eli tilted his head to the side. “It sounds so impressive when you put it like that. I never actually added it up myself.”

The duke shot him a scathing look. “I find that very hard to believe.”

Eli just smiled, and the duke moved on. “Now, Mr. Monpress, I have answered your question. I must insist you answer one for me.”

“I’m a firm believer in fairness,” Eli said, crossing his legs. “What do you want to know?”

The duke crossed over to the single open window and looked out at the rooftops and neat green fields of his country. “There is something I wanted to ask if I caught you,” he said, his voice for once not commanding, but curious. “These thefts of yours are always elaborate, some quite dangerous. I’ve heard stories of you walking right past piles of gold brick to steal a wooden statue, simply because it was more famous. At first, I thought you must be a collector, but then you go and steal the payroll for the entire Marcheron Shipping Company.”

“Oh, yes,” Eli said, laughing. “I thought I’d really lose my neck that time. Those pirates are quick with a knife, and I didn’t have my swordsman then.”

“Yes, yes.” The duke turned to look Eli in the face. “But what I want to know is why? Why do you steal these things? It’s obviously not for the money. You’ve had more money than any one man could spend in his life for years now.”

“Don’t estimate what a man can spend,” Eli said and chuckled.

“If you spent half of what you steal, you’d be your own economy,” the duke scoffed. “You can stop the conceited-boy act. There’s no audience for you here. Just tell me the truth. Why do you steal what you steal? Why do you live this”—he stopped, grasping for the right word—“this
vagabond
lifestyle? You’re obviously intelligent, driven, not to mention a powerful wizard. So why? What is your motive? Why do you do it?”

“Well,” Eli said slowly. “First, it’s fun. A man needs something to do with his life. As for motive, mine is grander than most. That fifty-five thousand you didn’t want to scoff at earlier? I can’t even be bothered with such a number. Such a tiny sum isn’t even a tenth of my ambition.” Grinning at the duke, Eli leaned forward, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “One day, this head on my shoulders will be worth one million in gold.”