by Rachel Aaron
“You must be mistaken.” Renaud smiled politely. “I paid you before we left.”
“The money is incidental,” Coriano said, putting the lion down again. “I mean our real bargain.”
“Our agreement was that you would take care of the swordsman if I prevented Eli’s interference, which I did,” Renaud said. “If anything, I should be the one complaining. I gave you Josef Liechten on a platter. You were the one who decided to run away.”
“I would hardly call a three-minute fight in a dust storm followed by the release of a mad spirit ‘on a platter,’ ” Coriano said, sneering. “But I wasn’t the only one who let his quarry escape, was I?”
Renaud stiffened. “If you’re talking about my brother—”
“Your brother?” Coriano shook his head. “No, no, I’m sure you’ve got that quite under control. I’m talking about Eli.”
“Eli?” Renaud started to laugh. “You think I’m worried about that hack thief? The one who trades favors with dirt spirits? For all his posturing, he ran at the first sign of trouble. I’m only sorry I bothered to put any gold in the chest at all.”
Coriano wasn’t laughing. “You’ve been planning this for a long time, Renaud. You watched for weakness and jumped with both feet when you saw your chance. I respect that, so let me give you some advice. Eli didn’t get to where he is now by being a fool, and he didn’t get there by letting ambitious idiots like you cheat him.”
Renaud’s face grew murderous in the torchlight. “Such praise.” He spat the words, “If I didn’t know better, I would think he was your real target, not the swordsman.”
“Eli is the one who makes Josef Liechten difficult to pin,” Coriano said, laying his hand on his sword. “Only a stupid man doesn’t respect his opponent’s strengths, and if there’s one thing Eli is good at, it’s never showing up when you want him and always showing up when you don’t.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Renaud said.
“Really?” Coriano’s mouth twitched. “Then consider what I’m about to say very carefully. I was able to sneak into the castle, past all your guards, right into your treasury, where I waited twenty minutes for you to notice me. Had I struck at any point, you would have been dead before you felt the blow, and all this treasure would be mine.” He slammed his hand down on the cabinet beside him and the resounding crack echoed through the cavern. “If I could do all this,” he said in the silence that followed, “Eli could do it. Only he could do it faster, quieter, and with more backup. So think very hard before you dismiss either of us, Your Majesty. Because in this entire kingdom, I’m the only one who can protect you from what you started the moment you decided to cheat Eli Monpress.”
“You,” Renaud said, scowling, “protect me? What would you do, sneak up behind him and make a speech? That seems to be your only real talent—”
The last t of “talent” had barely left his lips before something sharp and unbearably cold crushed into his neck. Renaud hadn’t even seen the swordsman move, but all at once Coriano was right on top of him, pressing the bare white blade of his sword against the king’s throat. The torch clattered to the ground as Renaud gasped for air. He flung open his spirit and desperately swung his will against the blade’s edge, trying to overpower the metal’s spirit, but the sword was like a glacier against his throat, and no matter how hard he fought, it would not move.
“Your tricks may work on dull, unsuspecting spirits,” Coriano whispered, inches from Renaud’s ear, “but an awakened sword is different. Now”—the swordsman’s voice scraped against Renaud’s opened soul like a razor—“listen, and listen well. I don’t care why you took this kingdom, and I don’t care if you keep it. I don’t care what kind of wizard you are or what you’re planning here in the dark. I am here for the Heart of War, nothing else. Now, if you do exactly as I say and help me corner Josef Liechten, I can give you victory. You might even live to reap the benefits of all your years of plotting. Do we have a deal?”
Eyes bulging, Renaud held out a moment longer before nodding frantically. As fast as he’d lunged, Coriano stepped back, and Renaud sank to his knees, gasping and clutching his bruised throat.
“All right,” Coriano said, sheathing his white sword as he kept his good eye on the king. “The original bargain still stands. I will fight Josef Liechten without interference.”
Renaud glowered from the floor, still rubbing his neck. “And what would my part entail?”
“You will arrange your forces exactly as I tell you,” Coriano said, “and then we wait. Without Josef, the girl will leave and Eli will be vulnerable. You should have no trouble dealing with him then. In any event, after I have defeated the Heart of War, you’ll never have to hear from me again.”
“That would be a relief.” Renaud rubbed his throat one last time and pushed himself up, turning back to the pillar. Almost at once, his sour glare faded, and his face relaxed into a warm smile. He reached out to touch the pillar’s dull surface with his bare hands, and when his fingers brushed the stone, Coriano felt a tremor through his boots.
“How long would this plan take?”
Coriano eyed him warily. “That depends on Eli. Probably not more than a day, maybe two. Monpress moves quickly when he needs to.”
“More than enough time,” Renaud said, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from the pillar. “Follow me.”
He whirled and marched out of the treasury, shouting for his guards. Coriano shot one last glance at the strange pillar before following the king into the hall. Whatever Renaud was planning down here, Coriano had a feeling it was larger than Mellinor. He would need to keep his wits about him if he was going to face Josef before it happened. After that, Coriano smiled, Renaud could bring the whole world crashing down for all it mattered to him. Dunea sang in agreement, and Coriano gripped her hilt.
Somewhere in the darkness behind them, the pillar quaked in response.
CHAPTER 17
The morning mists hovered thick and wet over the forest. Deer, the king’s own stock, had come out to feed on the delicate new leaves sprouting in the scattered open spaces, but they shied away from the tiny clearing by the stone hut, and for good reason.
Gin lay by the door with his head on his paws, his orange eyes half open. The door to the hut creaked and a growl rumbled up from deep in the ghosthound’s chest as Josef stepped out into the gray morning with Nico close behind him.
The swordsman was shirtless, but the wide swath of bandages wrapped around his chest kept the mist off him. For the first time Gin had seen, he was unarmed save for the enormous iron sword that he held in one hand.
The swordsman and the girl walked a short distance through the forest, stopping at a spot where the trees were farther apart, not quite a clearing, but room enough for their purposes. Nico took a seat on a fallen log while Josef took up position at a wide spot between two young poplars. When he judged he had enough space, he held out his arms and, very carefully, raised his black blade. He brought it up in a slow arc until it was over his head. His shoulders tensed as the barely healed cut under his bandages stretched, but his face remained calm and serious as he brought the blade down again.
When he had lowered the point all the way to the leaf litter, Nico spoke. “Will it do?”
Josef let out a pained breath. “The stitches held,” he said. “That’ll have to be enough. It’s not like we have time to lie around.”
Nico stood up and went around to his back, adjusting the bandages to sit higher. As she reached up to get his shoulders, the wide sleeves of her enormous black coat fell away from her scrawny arms revealing the scuffed silver manacles she wore clamped tight on each wrist. A dozen feet behind them, Gin’s growl grew louder.
“What is he going on about?” Josef grunted, rolling his shoulders to test the new bandage arrangement.
“The usual,” she murmured.
Josef scowled. “I can make him stop if it’s bothering you.”
Nico shook her head. “Eli needs
them for his plan, and things like that stopped bothering me long ago, after you found me.” She reached into her coat and pulled out a clean shirt, which she held out to the swordsman.
Josef took it and pulled it over his head, ignoring the pain in his chest. “I’ll talk to Eli about it, then. You shouldn’t have to put up with that idiocy just so he can get another ten thousand on his bounty.”
“I’d put up with more for less,” Nico said. She caught his eye and gave him one of her rare smiles. “The higher we make his bounty, the better the bounty hunters get. Soon you’ll have the kind of fights you’ve been searching for.”
“Fights seem to find us no matter what Eli’s bounty is,” Josef grumbled, but he was grinning when he looked at her. “Still, that Coriano and his awakened blade will be a challenge worth remembering. If the higher bounty attracts more of that sort of opponent, all of this stomping around in the woods will be worth it.” He paused. “Which isn’t to say I’ll agree to another of your idiot kidnapping ideas, Monpress.”
He turned around and folded his arms over his chest. A moment later, Eli stepped out of the underbrush with an enormous sigh.
“Too much suspicion will lead to an early grave,” he said, strolling over to stand beside Nico.
“I would argue it’s the other way around,” Josef said. “So, did you need something, or did you just come out here to bother us?”
Eli made a great show of looking hurt. “For your information, I came out to see if you were all right. Nico was still putting your chest back together when I drifted off last night, so when you weren’t in the hut when I woke up, I decided to investigate. Now I’m glad I did. What’s this about an awakened blade?”
Josef plunged the Heart of War into the soft ground and leaned on it. “The swordsman I fought had an awakened blade.”
“Must be a good one considering it put a hole in your tough hide,” Eli said. “Good thing yours is better. We’ll make short work of him if we see him again.”
“I’m not going to use the Heart,” Josef said solemnly.
“Josef, not this again,” Eli groaned. “You’re the swordsman; you decide how you fight. I respect that, but every time you get this way, half your blood ends up on the ground. If things go down the way they’re looking like they will, we’re going to have to make a quick exit, and that’s hard enough without Nico having to drag your sword-riddled carcass across the countryside. The Heart of War chose you for a reason, and it wasn’t to get carted around the world on a strap. Can’t you just smash the swordsman and take the easy win for once in your life?”
“An easy win is meaningless,” Josef growled. “If I’m going to get stronger, I have to defeat Coriano on my own, the right way.”
“Nonsense!” Eli smiled. “We think you’re plenty strong already, don’t we, Nico?”
Nico stared at him. “Do you think your bounty is plenty high?”
Eli’s grin faded. “Point taken.” He shook his head. “Fine, do whatever you want. Just don’t do something stupid like die on us, all right?”
Josef snorted. “Who do you think I am?”
“For the sake of our friendship, I’m not going to answer that.” Eli met Josef’s glare with a wry grin. “Now, I’m going back to the hut to mind our guests. Can you two handle getting the costumes?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Josef said, pulling his iron sword out of the ground and resting it on his shoulder. “The real question is, will the Spiritualist follow orders?”
“Oh, yes,” Eli said, nodding. “She’s in this neck deep now. When Renaud showed his true colors, he put her duty to Spirit Court doctrines on the line. She’d break just about any law to keep her oaths to the spirits. So while she may try and moralize us to death, I think we can count on her not to flub the plan.”
“Just make sure you actually have a plan this time,” Josef called as he walked back toward the hut for the rest of his weapons.
Eli folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the swordsman’s bandaged back. “Do you believe that?” he grumbled. “And after all the scrapes I’ve gotten him out of.”
Nico shrugged. “With all the scrapes you get him into, I think it works out about even.”
“Don’t you start, too,” Eli sighed. “In the year you’ve been with us, have I ever let us down? Don’t you trust me yet?”
“Josef trusts you,” Nico said, starting toward the hut as well. “That’s enough for me.”
Eli sighed again, louder this time, but Nico didn’t look back. Shaking his head, he jogged after her, stopping a moment to say good morning to Gin, who was still growling, before joining the others in the hut.
“You know this is a terrible plan,” Gin growled.
“Yes,” Miranda said, pulling the long tunic dress over her head. “You’ve told me so every ten minutes since sunrise.”
They were in the tiny space behind the forester’s hut, wedged between the trees and the crumbling stone. Gin was slouched by the hut’s corner, his body blocking the opening to the clearing so Miranda could have some privacy while she changed into the costume Josef had shoved into her hands a few minutes ago, when he and Nico had finally returned from wherever they’d been. She’d never been so happy to see them. A whole morning alone with the king and Eli had almost been more than she could stand.
“Disguise yourselves and sneak into the castle?” Gin snorted, making the low-hanging branches dance. “How are you going to get through the doors with no spirits? Wait for the thief to charm them all? And he didn’t say a thing about what you’d do when you actually got in. I’m telling you, it’s never going to work.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Miranda said, finding the opening for her head at last. “Eli’s terrible plans have an interesting habit of working out.”
Gin rolled his eyes. “Because his kidnapping plan went so well.”
“Up until us, yes it did,” Miranda said, giving him a sharp look. “I don’t like this any more than you do, mutt, but we’re in deep now, so we might as well do our best.”
Gin kept grumbling, but Miranda ignored him. She smoothed the bulky dress over her shift with a final wiggle, and then, reaching awkwardly behind her, tied it with the strings sewn into the back. Next, she reached up and pulled her hair as tight as she could, knotting it in place at the base of her neck with a bit of twine. She grabbed the thick veil from a waiting branch and draped it over her forehead, letting the rest hang down her back so that her red hair was completely covered. Last of all, she fixed the small cap at the crown of her head with a long stickpin that held the whole affair in place. She gave her head an experimental shake to make sure the veil wouldn’t slide off. When it stayed put to her satisfaction, she turned around.
“There,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”
Gin eyed her up and down. “Like a librarian.”
“Such flattery!” Miranda folded her hands over her chest dramatically. “Be still, my trembling heart!”
“What? That’s the point, right?” Gin said, getting up.
Miranda grinned at his confusion and tucked her discarded clothes under her arm before pushing her way through the giggling trees. Gin padded after her, muttering under his breath.
The tiny clearing outside the hut that served as Eli’s hideout had become quite crowded since Nico and Josef had returned. Most of the space, however, was taken up by the new additions. Laid out on a ratty blanket, two men and a woman, dressed only in their underclothes, were sleeping peacefully in the tree-dappled sunlight—castle servants, the sources of the costumes. King Henrith was crouched beside them, his hands moving in worried circles on his knees. He had traded out his filthy silk clothes for what looked like a set of Josef’s spares, though it was hard to tell without the knives. The bad fit and the king’s dour expression as he hovered over the unconscious servants made him look like a refugee from a tragedy play.
“I don’t see why you had to knock them out like this,” he mutt
ered.
“It was the simplest way to get the sizes correct,” Josef said in a bored voice. He was lounging beside the hut, with his back propped against the ever-present camouflage thatch of branches provided by Eli’s arboreal admirers. His enormous sword was stabbed into the ground beside him and a pile of throwing knives was spread out in the grass at his feet. His normal array of cross-belted sheaths was gone, and in their place he wore the chain and blue surcoat of a House Allaze royal guard, which, judging from the gaps at the shoulders, had recently belonged to the narrower of the sleeping men. “They’ll wake up soon enough, no worse for wear.”
“And you’ll be here, sire,” Eli chimed in, fastening the cuffs of his valet’s coat. “A free evening off work and a touching reunion with their monarch. I’d say we’re doing them a favor.”
“What I don’t understand,” Miranda said, kneeling beside the distressed king, “is why we’re stealing costumes to sneak into the castle when Josef and Nico already snuck into the castle to grab these three.”
“We did nothing of the sort,” Eli said. “Every servant doesn’t live in the palace, you know. Josef spotted this lot walking into town from the outlying village. He merely gave them an involuntary night off. Oh, don’t look like that.” He waved his hands at Miranda’s horrified expression. “If Josef says they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine. He’s a professional. He does this all the time.”
Josef nodded sagely at the pile of knives he was polishing. Somehow, Miranda failed to find the gesture comforting.
“Of course,” Eli put his hands in his pockets, “the real question here is why we had to resort to this in the first place. I thought you said you had a contact in the palace?”
Miranda shook her head vehemently, making her veil fly. “There’s no way I’m letting you drag Marion into this, not after she already stuck her neck out for me once. Just look what you did to one of her coworkers.” She pointed at the unconscious girl, whose librarian uniform dress Miranda was now wearing. “Besides,” she muttered, “I spent a good deal of time correcting her ideas about wizards. I don’t want her meeting you lot and getting the wrong impression all over again.”
