Ra-khir made an expansive gesture toward the elves. “I believe it’s in your hands, El-brinith, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” The elf began delicately clearing away a site large enough to sit. Chan’rék’ril joined her, his long, narrow hands gliding like scoops through the heap.
Rascal said nothing, but her eyes measured every item. Tae sighed, watching her closely, worried as much for the possible consequences of stealing from a magical place as that she might find something of sufficient worth to drive her to break their alliance.
While Ra-khir and Darris assisted the elves, Andvari approached Kevral once again. Though his eyes remained on Rascal, Tae tuned an ear toward the Northman. He would surely embarrass himself again; Kevral would likely see to it.
Keeping his hands well away from his belt and the ax, Andvari trained his blue eyes on Kevral. He used a gentle voice, clearly pitched to compromise, “I’m truly sorry about how my ancestors treated yours. I apologize deeply for the wars that saw your people . . . well . . .”
“Dead,” Kevral supplied bluntly.
“Well . . . yes.” Andvari’s cheeks developed the flush that Kevral always inspired in him, a flaming red compared with his usual sallow coloring.
“Is that what your history teaches?” Kevral attacked like an enraged mother bear. “That the Renshai were nearly obliterated in a war?”
As Rascal settled into a quiet crouch, hands unmoving in her lap, Tae turned his full attention to the conversation. He kept Rascal always between himself and them.
Andvari blinked. “Well . . . I mean . . .”
Kevral did not wait for an answer. “A war is when one group announces its intentions of violence against the other. They battle fairly, sword to sword, and the most capable side wins.”
Andvari fell silent, blue eyes flitting in all directions.
“Sneaking to an island in the middle of the night, cutting down sleeping men, women, and children, and mutilating them in an attempt to block their souls from Valhalla is not a war.” Kevral’s expression turned predatory, and Tae sensed real anger. Andvari had raised a bitterness probably buried somewhere in every Renshai’s psyche. “It’s a coward’s slaughter.”
A hint of indignation entered Andvari’s tone as well. “I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry?” Kevral turned him a withering look. “Oh, all right. Sorry. That’ll make up for hundreds of years of inbreeding just to maintain some of the original Renshai blood.” She did not mention her own deliberate “contamination” of the line, Tae’s only clue that at least some of her wrath was feigned.
Andvari retreated between the stacks and beyond Kevral’s sight. Her gaze followed him only a few steps, then gradually turned in Tae’s direction. He greeted her with raised brows and arms folded across his chest, judgmental and questioning.
“What?” Kevral groused.
Apparently believing the word aimed at her, Rascal stared back. The portion of her expression that Tae could see carried its usual dour grimace.
Good job putting this group together. Tae tipped his head reproachfully.
“What?” Kevral repeated.
Tae approached so that he would not have to include others in the conversation, but not far enough that he could not keep Rascal in his sight. “Ease off him, Kevral.”
The familiar bright eyes that had come to define beauty burned with a far deeper anger than the one vented against Andvari. “I didn’t start it. Either time. He keeps coming to me with those stupid . . . those stupid . . .” At a clear loss for words, she shook her head.
Tae had spent years keeping his speech simple, direct, and always tough, but the same adroitness that allowed him to pick up five languages in childhood also supplied him verbal eloquence when the mood struck. “. . . conciliatory gestures?”
“Yeah.”
“Attempts to make peace.” Tae gasped in a high-pitched lungful of air. “How evil of him.”
Kevral hit him. With her hand, he appreciated. “Stop it, Tae.”
“Well?” Tae put the onus back on Kevral, still eyeing Rascal from the corner of his vision.
“It’s the way he phrases things.” Kevral looked away. “I don’t know. He infuriates me.”
Tae sought the cause, though he believed it had more to do with King Cymion. Why did I ever let Matrinka bind me to silence? “Maybe it’s because he’s the first Northman you’ve ever met. Maybe you harbor more resentment than you knew.”
“He’s not the first.” Kevral looked back at Tae. “I spent a year training a Northman in Pudar’s guard force.” She spat out the country name like poison.
“And you got along all right?”
“Not at first,” Kevral admitted. “Tyrion hated Renshai and didn’t hesitate to say so. Caused me more than a bit of trouble before I put him in his place.”
Tae recognized the name. Tyrion had convinced Captain and his elves to travel to the North and create peace between tribes stirred by the svartalf to genocidal wars. Tae had learned from the elves’ oldest that Tyrion’s sincere apology for his actions against Kevral had convinced Captain to perform the favor and, ultimately, driven the resultant harmony between Northmen. Tyrion had also escorted Griff’s parents to Béarn. Now, Tae considered Kevral’s words, believing them truth. Her frame of mind caused some of their strife, but Andvari’s style needed work as well. “Just don’t let your hostility harm the mission.”
“You know I won’t.” Kevral struggled with the insult inherent in the warning but suffered Tae’s affront as she never would Andvari’s.
Beyond the elves, a sudden flash splattered across an already bright sky. El-brinith sat in wonder, Chan’rék’ril crouched beside her. Darris rose. Ra-khir spun toward the new threat, hand on his sword hilt, though he did not draw. Kevral glided closer, working her way in front of the others. Andvari did likewise, the action so similar it might have amused Tae under other circumstances. He faded into still silence as Rascal scrambled behind a pile of fabric.
A moment later, a man appeared. Hair as blond as Kevral’s fell to shoulders like boulders, and he towered over even Andvari and Ra-khir. Eyes gray as cliff stone flickered over them in turn. He wore a spiked whip mace and a hammer at his belt, but his beefy hands neither touched them nor hovered as if they might. Tae believed the stranger could cup Rascal’s entire head in one palm.
“Greetings,” Ra-khir said. “I am—”
The newcomer laughed sharply. “Little man, are you welcoming me to my own home?”
Momentarily stunned by a designation he had surely never heard applied to him in his entire life, Ra-khir hesitated. “I—I . . .” he finally stammered, “. . . didn’t intend rudeness. It’s just that you had only arrived, and welcoming in any case seemed appropriate.”
“Where did you come from?” the giant asked bluntly.
The others let Ra-khir speak for them, as usual. He had the most training and experience in diplomacy. “Another world. The gods call it Midgard.”
“Hmmm.” The massive stranger scratched at his head. “You came by magic?”
“Yes.”
Brusqueness again: “What do you want?”
Ra-khir politely kept his attention on the other’s face, while Andvari and Kevral studied his hands. The elves remained in place, Darris attentive in front of them. “We’re looking for a shard of a broken gemstone.”
“’Zat right?” The large man cocked his head to one side. “Any shard in particular? Or just your generic shard?”
Tae smiled. Kevral shifted from one foot to the other. Ra-khir mimicked none of her impatience. “It’s a piece from a sapphire.”
The giant’s eyes narrowed, fine-lashed lids gliding downward. “Got one. From a great magical stone called the Pica.”
Ra-khir glanced toward the others. “That’s it!” he said excitedly. “That’s what we’re looking for.”
“Why?” the stranger asked with obvious suspicion.
Tae winced. The huge man’s tone sug
gested he had no intention of parting with it. Kevral, don’t let Ra-khir tell him. Kevral, stop him. Kevral . . .
“We need it . . .”
Want it, Tae corrected in his head.
“. . . to work some magic.” Ra-khir added carefully, “Good magic that will help the entire world.”
Tae hissed through his teeth as the price soared.
“Your world,” the giant corrected.
“Well, yes.” Ra-khir admitted. “But it certainly won’t harm yours. We’re willing to pay, of course.”
“Payment,” the massive man said, “is not the problem.”
Tae froze.
“I’m a collector.” The stranger amended. “The Collector. I own at least one of everything in existence on any world. If you want this shard, you’ll have to trade it for another from the Pica.”
If he had not dedicated himself to stillness, Tae would have smacked a hand over his face.
Ra-khir shook his head slightly. “No, sir. You don’t understand. To work the magic, we need all of the shards. To trade one would defeat our very purpose for coming.”
The Collector shrugged. “Sorry you bothered.”
Kevral could hold her tongue no longer. “You’re still missing the point.”
Ra-khir raised a hand for temperance, but he might as well have tried to stop Tae’s proverbial tornado.
“We’re not leaving without that shard. We’d prefer to bargain for it.” Kevral dropped her voice almost beyond hearing “Most of us would, anyway.” Her tone returned to its previous strength. “But we’ll kill you and take it if you leave us no choice.”
Ra-khir did not attempt to soften the pronouncement. Even if it were not too late to manage it, Kevral had spoken the truth.
The Collector ran his gaze over the group again. “Too bad such a fine young group would have to die.”
Kevral smiled, probably at the stranger’s confidence, which she shared. “Even were there as many of you as us, even twice as many, you would all die, not us.”
“Is that right?” The giant leaned toward Kevral.
Ra-khir intervened. “That’s how important this is to us. Skill aside, our desperation would make us undefeatable.”
“Skill,” Kevral grumbled, “is enough.”
The Collector rose to his full height again, taller even than Tae had first realized, towering over the biggest of them by more than a head. “That important, hmm?”
“That important,” Ra-khir repeated, sincerity clear.
“Here’s my deal, then,” the Collector said. “It is the only one you’ll get. First, you must locate the shard yourselves.”
El-brinith nodded to indicate the success of her spell. They would likely have to dig through a stack or two, but they would surely find it.
“Second, in exchange, you must bring me something unique, the like of which I do not own.” The Collector added swiftly, “And, unique as it must be, sketching or building something with your own hand will not do. I own paintings and sculptures a-plenty by artists of true talent.”
“That is your bargain?” Ra-khir reiterated. “We locate the shard and exchange it for something you do not own?”
“I do not own one like it,” the Collector corrected, then supplied an example. “I own leather tunics, though I don’t own yours.” He shook back the thin locks. “For your part, if you cannot meet those terms, you must leave without violence.”
“I will need to discuss it with my companions.” Ra-khir glanced at those nearest.
“Swiftly, then,” the Collector said. “I have better things to do than wait around here. Know this: I will offer no other deal but one unique item for another. Also, I am not alone here.”
Ra-khir gathered the others while Kevral stood woodenly, refusing to take her eyes from the Collector. Rascal remained aloof, and Tae did not bother to join the group either. The agreement seemed reasonable on the Collector’s part, and no one could have one of everything. At worst, they could return to Midgard and snatch up the latest invention of the king’s most creative.
The elves, Andvari, Darris, and Ra-khir huddled for a few moments. When they broke, Ra-khir looked uncomfortable. He gave Tae a cautious glance, clearly eliciting his opinion. Tae gave back a single, bright nod, accompanied by a wink to indicate he had the problem in hand. It surprised Tae that Darris, Ra-khir, or the elves had not surmised the same easy solution he had.
Ra-khir returned to confront the Collector. “We’ll take your offer.”
“Fine,” the giant said.
“How will we let you know we’re ready.”
“Come back to this same spot,” the Collector suggested. “I’ll know by that.” He started to turn, then pirouetted on his heel back to face them. An evil grin lit his massive features, granting them an alien cast. “By the way, your agreement to the terms sealed my spell. Don’t try to transport off this world until the agreement’s complete, or you’ll fly into nil space.” He lowered his head to Ra-khir’s level, snakelike. “And no one can save you.” With that, he whirled again, striding off across heaps of junk and treasures.
Ra-khir spoke through clenched teeth, green eyes flashing. “How dare he!”
Tae knew the mistrust, not the magic, bothered the honest Knight of Erythane. He left Ra-khir’s consolation to Kevral, as concern for his own idea banished concern for Ra-khir in an instant. He consulted Chan’rék’ril. “Is that possible?” He jerked a thumb after the disappearing figure.
“You mean, can he endanger a transport?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.” Chan’rék’ril rubbed at his amber eyes as if they hurt him. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Having overheard, Darris added his piece, “I don’t care to challenge it.”
Probably his intention. Tae already knew the Collector possessed magical powers; he simply doubted one creature’s ability to bind them to something so severe. However, they dared not risk the possibility that he spoke truth, given the unpredictability of magic and their own ignorance.
“Doesn’t matter.” Ra-khir’s hand on Kevral’s showed blanched knuckles, and he turned Tae a steady glower. “I wouldn’t violate an agreement. And I wouldn’t let you do so either.”
Next time, I do the bargaining. Tae knew he could only blame not having done so this time on himself. He pointed out what Ra-khir clearly missed. “I wasn’t thinking of cheating. I just thought we could go to the castle for something to trade.”
“Impossible,” El-brinith said quietly as she rose from her position. “Remember, if we leave here without the shard, we can’t find the others. Captain’s and Marrih’s study of the last shard suggested we couldn’t return here if we left.”
Realization struck Ra-khir suddenly. His scrutiny of Tae intensified. “Was that your plan?”
Uh-oh. Tae changed the subject before anyone else made the connection that Ra-khir had agreed based on a hopeless idea that would have come to light had Tae joined the discussion process. “We’d better get the shard before the Collector deliberately moves it.”
The understanding that El-brinith could only locate an object once per world sent the attention of everyone swinging to her. Though surely uncomfortable under the scrutiny, she hid her discomfort beneath elfin subtlety. “This way.” She pointed opposite the way the Collector had taken. “Two hundred ninety lengths.”
The eight lumbered in the indicated direction, hampered by stacks, mounds, and heaps of collected things. An occasional animal twined through the mess, glancing in their direction, then trotting onward. Nothing dangerous wandered toward them, though Tae did discover an enormous striped wild cat penned into a solid cage. As they walked, he wondered how the Collector kept track of his things. Would he know whether or not he already had something they offered? Would he even tell the truth? What could they possibly have brought on their journey that could fulfill the description? Tae shook his head doubtfully. Likely, the Collector did not even know the location of the Pica shard, but
his hurried suggestion had distracted Ra-khir from the same questions that plagued Tae now. I made him believe I had a foolproof plan. Now it’s up to me to find another.
At length, they came to the appropriate place and searched systematically through the collection for a glimpse of the Pica shard. At first, they carefully displaced objects, the pursuit growing more desperate and less gentle with each passing moment. Kevral paused to examine a brooch in the shape of a horse, studded with diamonds of enough colors to separate mane, tail, ear leathers, and eyes from the sparkling, white body. Tae looked at it over her shoulder, admiring a craftsmanship few could come close to matching. The materials themselves were worth a small fortune, but surely no one would dismantle it. Its value as art far exceeded its components.
Tae glanced up in time to see Rascal’s quick movement, a sure sign she tried to hide her own interest in the jewel. As Kevral reached to place it on another pile, Tae caught her hand. “Hold onto it.”
Kevral’s expression held warning. “Tae, that’s very generous, but . . .” Her pale eyes bore into his nearly black ones. “. . . it’s not yours to give me.”
Tae dropped his hands onto a hide drum. “Not you, too, Kevral. Don’t always assume I have the worst in mind.”
Kevral’s look hardened, if possible. “So giving it to me would be the worst.”
Tae refused the trap. “You assumed I planned to take it when I really just wanted to protect it from . . .” More subtle than an elf, he tipped his head toward Rascal.
Given an explanation, Kevral grew more defensive. “Well, it’s tough to resist. Even for me.”
Tae hoped he had misinterpreted her intention, and he gave her a way out. “Are you saying you would understand if Rascal took it?”
“No, I’m saying I would understand if you—” Kevral broke off, the realization of her own cruel near-mistake striking her. “I mean . . .” She dropped the point. “I’ll hold it.”
“Don’t become high and mighty with me just because you’re married to a knight.” Even as he spoke, Tae wished he had not. No matter how valid the point, it could only come across as petty bitterness. Without a further word, he moved to a different searching place. To his relief, Kevral did not follow. To continue the conversation, even just to clarify it, could only worsen the situation.
The Children of Wrath Page 24
