The Legend Of Eli Monpress Page 8

  “Bird watching?” Eril said and sighed dramatically, blowing Miranda’s hair into her eyes. “That sounds so boring. Can’t I do something else?”

  “No,” Miranda said firmly. “Don’t forget to keep an eye on all the surrounding territory—the city, the countryside, and the forest to the north where the king keeps his deer. I’ll want reports on everything.”

  “All right, all right, I heard you the first time,” he huffed. “Never get to have any fun,” Miranda heard him mutter as the wind began to die down.

  Miranda stayed frozen even after the air was still, a scowl etched on her face.

  “He’s gone,” Gin said.

  “Good,” Miranda said, giving herself a little shake. “He likes to hang around sometimes, just to see what I say about him. Gives me the jeebies.”

  The hound snorted sympathetically. “How did you catch him in the first place if you couldn’t see him?”

  “I used smoke,” Miranda said, untying Gin’s pack and dropping it on the ground. “But even when I could see, it took me a solid month before I managed to catch hold of a wind spirit long enough to convince him to join me.”

  Gin shook his massive head. “I will never understand how you humans manage to get through your short lives being spirit blind. That’s probably why the Powers gave your kind the ability to command spirits. It’s a survival mechanism.”

  “We get by well enough.” Miranda pushed aside the thick branches for a better look at the castle. “It might have been a little much, sending him so early. The riders won’t even reach the Council city until late tomorrow, and that’s if they ride through the night. Then there’s the wait while the bounty is approved.”

  “So what?” Gin flopped down on the thick carpet of pine needles. “I could use a break.”

  “Lazy mutt.” Miranda grinned. Still, he was right. Ever since they’d gotten Coriano’s tip that Eli was in Mellinor, they’d been constantly on the move. She hadn’t had more than three hours of sleep in one stretch since she’d left the Spirit Court.

  “All right,” she said, slumping down next to him, “you win. But since you got to sleep while I was searching the castle, you get first watch.”

  Gin snorted, sending pine straw everywhere, but he moved to the edge of the clearing where he could lounge and watch the road at the same time. When he was settled, Miranda lay back, looking up at the deep blue sky through the tree tops. Eventually, they’d need to find a better hiding place, but this would do for now. Anyway, the sun was warm here. She closed her eyes. When Eli made his move, they would be ready. The thought made her smile, and with that, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER

  10

  Josef glared at his opponent, watching for an opening. The smallest twitch could show the weakness that would turn his defeat into victory. A few feet away, Eli lounged in the sunlight, leaning against the branches that hid their tumbledown stone shack and grinning like an idiot.

  The thief’s eyes flicked down, and Josef saw his opening. “Match and raise,” he growled, tossing two gold standards on the grass in front of him.

  Eli’s grin faltered a fraction, and he picked up a pair of oblong coins from his own stack. “You’re showing a knight,” he said, pointing at the face-up card by Josef’s foot. “That’s five points at least. Maybe you’re confused, but in Daggerback, it’s the lowest hand that wins.” He paused, twirling the coins between his long fingers, seemingly oblivious to the danger of taunting a man whose daily dress included over fifty pounds of edged weaponry. “You can take the bet back, if you want,” he said, his voice positively dripping with generosity. “I won’t mind.”

  “No.” Josef crouched behind his cards. “You’re not getting me with that again.”

  “Have it your way,” Eli said, tossing his coins into the pot. “Let’s see who was right.”

  Josef threw his hand down, adding a bearded man with a staff and an old geezer with a crown to his gallant knight in the grass. “Bachelor party: wizard, king, knight. That’s ten points,” he said, grinning.

  Eli smirked and deftly flipped his cards like a fan. “Wizard, king, and my lovely lady.” He scooped up the queen card he’d laid face-up in the grass after the first round of bets, and his smirk became intolerable. “Nine points.”

  Josef glowered murderously as Eli rubbed his hands together and reached out to gather his winnings.

  “Grand sweep,” Nico said quietly, and the two men froze. “Hunter, weaver, shepherdess.” She named each card as she laid it in the grass. “Three points.”

  Eli sighed and shoved the pile of gold toward Nico. Now it was Josef’s turn to grin. “Too bad, Eli,” he said, leaning back against one of the mossy trees that ringed their tiny clearing. “Next time, you should worry less about bluffing me and more about not losing your shirt.”

  “I don’t mind losing to Nico,” Eli said, tossing her the last of the coins. “She’s a much better winner than you are.”

  Josef grunted and nodded over his shoulder in the direction of the castle, where the spires were barely visible through the thick trees. “Speaking of winning, have those idiots gotten back to us? We’ve been sitting here for almost a week, and if I have to spend another day playing Daggerback with you lot, the name might start to sound like a good suggestion.”

  “Actually, the flag went up fifteen minutes ago,” Eli said casually. “I just wanted to see if I could win the rest of your gold before telling you.”

  Josef jumped to his feet. Sure enough, a large flag dangled from the top of the second tower, its white folds lying limp against the slate shingles, twitching in the breeze.

  Eli winked at Josef’s murderous glare and walked whistling into the hut.

  The king was lying on the dirt floor, looking miserable as always. Eli had left him under the watchful flicker of the fire, which, in exchange for Eli keeping Nico outside for most of the day, was willing to make sure their royal prisoner didn’t escape. Eli skirted the edge of the hearth and poked the king’s shoulder with the toe of his boot.

  “Almost done, your royalness.”

  The king sat up stiffly, and Eli handed him a tiny pot of ink and a pen nib attached to a stick, which he produced from somewhere in his pockets. “All you have to do now is write exactly what I say, and we’ll take you home.”

  The king looked defiant for a half second and then he nodded glumly and began to copy Eli’s demands word for word.

  Josef was gone when Eli emerged ten minutes later, the king’s letter rolled in a tight tube and ready to go. Nico, however, was where he had left her, arranging her newly acquired gold in shining patterns across the scrubby grass.

  “Don’t worry,” she said without looking up. “He’s just gone to scout the meeting place.”

  “Why?” Eli said, laughing. “We haven’t even told them where it is yet.”

  Nico shrugged. “He said you would say that, and he said to tell you that you can’t make assumptions about anything.” She paused thoughtfully. “He also said to tell you that if he does find any traps he’s going to make sure you stand on them.”

  “Marvelous.” Eli sighed. Why did swordsmen have to be so competitive about everything ? “The good king was kind enough to write another note for us,” he said, twirling the roll of paper in his hands. “I’m setting the trade-off for this evening, an hour before sunset. That should give them plenty of time to prepare, and us plenty of leeway should things go off course.”

  Nico turned back to her coins. “Do you expect things to go off course?”

  Eli shrugged. “Does anything we do ever go as planned?”

  Nico looked up at him and shrugged back.

  “Anyway,” Eli continued, holding up the note, “I’m going to find a bird to take this to the palace. If Josef gets back before I do, make sure to tell him that if his trap finding is as good as his card playing I’ll gladly stand anywhere he tells me.”

  Nico’s mouth twitched, and if Eli hadn’t known better, he would have said she
had just suppressed a laugh. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and walked into the forest, whistling a falcon call.

  An hour before the appointed time, Josef made everyone move out.

  “You can’t be serious,” Eli said from his comfy spot in the grass.

  Josef just shook his head and strapped another bandolier of throwing knives on top of his already impressive personal arsenal. “Last to a fight, first in the dirt,” he said, hooking his short swords into place, one on each hip. When those were set, he grabbed his enormous iron sword from the log beside him and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  He turned and walked out of the clearing, his heavy boots surprisingly quiet on the leaf-littered ground. Nico followed just behind him, moving over the fallen logs like a shadow. Eli lounged for a moment longer. Then, with a long sigh, he heaved himself up and went into the hut to get the king.

  They walked single file through the forest. Josef went first, stalking through the tree shadows like a knife-covered jungle cat. Eli strolled a good distance behind him, leading the king by his rope like a puppy. Nico trailed at the back, her enormous coat pulled tight around her despite the warm afternoon, and her eyes glued to the thick undergrowth.

  “You’ll never get away with this, you know,” King Henrith said, trying to keep some of his dignity as he stumbled after Eli. “As soon as I’m back with my own men, I’ll put my entire army after you. You won’t even reach the border.”

  “Splendid!” Eli said, ducking under a low branch. “At least things won’t be boring. After this last week, an army on our heels sounds like a welcome vacation.”

  “Don’t you understand?” the king sputtered, shaking his bound fists at the thief’s back. “I’ll have you drawn and quartered! I’ll hang your innards up in the city square for birds to pick at, and what’s left, I’ll throw in the river for the fish!”

  “That doesn’t sound very sanitary.” Eli pressed his finger to his lips thoughtfully. “Still, it’s the thought that counts.” He looked over his shoulder, a heartfelt sunbeam of a smile lighting up his face. “I’m so happy we got to know each other like this. That’s the best part about this business: You meet so many interesting people!”

  The king turned purple with rage, but before he could think of a proper comeback, Eli came to an abrupt halt, causing the king to run face first into his back. A few feet ahead, Josef had stopped and was watching the trees, one hand hovering over the short sword at his hip.

  They were at the edge of a small gap in the trees, not really a meadow but a rare sunny space where bushes and wildflowers had taken root. The forest around them looked just like every other bit they’d spent the last twenty minutes walking through, a mix of midsized hardwoods and thick undergrowth. The only sounds were the cries of far-off birds and the wind rustling the leaves high above them.

  “What is it?” Eli whispered, creeping toward the swordsman.

  Josef stayed perfectly still, with his hands on his swords. “We’re being followed.”

  As soon as he said it, a monster launched itself out of the undergrowth. It moved like mist over water, gray and cold and canine, with enormous teeth, which Josef managed to dodge barely a second before they would have sunk into his leg. He landed hard on his knees beside Eli, rolling to his feet as soon as he touched the ground, his short sword flashing. Eli pulled the king and Nico close behind him, backing them into the center of the small clearing to give the swordsman room to maneuver. Josef crouched low beside them, both short swords out now, and readied himself for the creature’s next charge.

  However, the charge never came. As soon as they were all bunched together, the trap sprang.

  CHAPTER

  11

  The ground erupted at their feet, sprouting four enormous walls that grew ten feet before they could react. At first, the walls appeared to be made of dirt, but as soon as they reached their full height, the dirt shifted and became solid, slick stone, caging them in on all sides save for a tiny, open square of sky at the very top. Then, as suddenly as the walls had grown, they stopped, leaving the king and his kidnappers squashed together like fish in a square, stone barrel.

  “Eli,” Josef whispered. “Please tell me this is one of your spirits.”

  “No such luck,” came a voice from above. A shadow fell over them, and the captives looked up to see a redheaded woman smirking down through the opening.

  “Eli Monpress,” she said, “I am Spiritualist Miranda Lyonette. You are hereby under arrest by order of the Rector Spiritualis, Etmon Banage, for the improper use of spirits, treason against the Spirit Court, and, most recently, the kidnapping of King Henrith of Mellinor. You will surrender your spirits and come quietly.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Eli yelled up at her. “Treason against the Spirit Court? Don’t you have to be a member of something to commit treason against it? I don’t recall ever joining your little social club.”

  The woman arched her eyebrow. “The Spirit Court preserves the balance between human and spirit. When you used your abilities to ruin the reputation of all wizards by turning to a flamboyant life of crime, you committed treason against all spirits and the humans who care for them. Does that answer your question?”

  “Not really,” Eli said.

  “Well, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it later,” Miranda said, smirking. “Will you surrender the king and come quietly, or must I ask Durn here to march you all the way to the Spirit Court’s door?”

  The stone prison jerked several feet to the left, knocking its occupants in a pile on the dusty ground.

  “You make a strong argument, Lady Miranda,” Eli said, untangling himself from the king. “But I’m afraid there’s a slight problem.”

  “Oh?” Miranda leaned forward.

  “You see, we already had his royal dustiness here order his people to write a letter pledging thirty-five thousand gold toward my bounty. You know how the Council is; they never go back on something once it’s been through the system, so you must agree it would be frightfully rude of me to just go off with you and forfeit all of Mellinor’s money to the Spirit Court, especially considering the country’s general aversion to practitioners of the magical arts.”

  “I fail to see how that is my concern, Mr. Monpress.” Miranda waved her hand dismissively. “Why don’t we wait and ask the Rector Spiritualis what he thinks?”

  “Ah,” Eli said. “That sounds lovely. Unfortunately, I must refuse. You see, I have a pressing prior obligation to take his highness home and pick up a rather disgusting amount of money.”

  “You might find that difficult, considering the circumstances,” Miranda said, patting the wall below her. “I don’t know how you charm your spirits, sir, but Durn here only answers to me, and he says you’re coming with us.”

  “Really?” Eli rapped his knuckles against the hard stone. “Let’s see if he won’t have a change of heart. Nico, if you would?”

  Nico nodded and stretched out her hand, pressing her long fingers delicately against the stone wall. For a moment, nothing happened. Then her eyes flashed under the shadow of her hat, and the wall beneath her fingers began to vanish. Not pull back, not crumble, but vanish, as if it had never been there to begin with.

  After that, things happened very quickly. The stone walls of the prison collapsed with a thundering scream, falling over in an avalanche of rubble, including the wall Miranda had been so confidently perched on only seconds before. Suddenly without purchase, the female Spiritualist fell tumbling to the ground with a sickening thud.

  The giant hound sprang forward with a terrifying roar, landing in a protective crouch above his motionless mistress. “Monster!” he roared, his patterns whirling through the thick cloud of dust and grit. “What did you do?”

  “I’m sure we don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eli said, dusting himself off. “We were the ones attacked by a mon—”

  Gin didn’t give the thief a chance to finish. He leaped forward, almost too fast
to see, his claws going straight for Nico’s throat. He would have struck true if Josef’s blade hadn’t been there. The swordsman parried the hound’s swipe at the last second, but the impact took them both to the ground. Josef rolled and came up sword first. The hound pushed off the grass in a shower of dirt and wheeled around, narrowly dodging the swordsman’s counterswipe with a well-timed leap.

  “Stand aside, human,” Gin snarled, his hackles bristling as he circled for another charge. “It’s not you I want now. Rest assured, I’ll eat you later for what you did to my mistress.”

  “Growl all you want, pup.” Josef flipped his swords with a toothy grin, and pointed both tips at the ghosthound’s nose. “I’m no wizard, so if you have something to tell me, you’ll have to say it in a language I understand.”

  The ghosthound clawed the ground and launched forward, teeth snapping in readiness to crush the swordsman’s skull, but before he had gone more than a few feet, something extraordinary happened. On either side of the charging hound, enormous roots burst out of the ground. They flew like spears, shooting out of the dirt and over the ghosthound in a tall arc. Then, with a whip crack, they slammed down hard, pinning the dog beneath them. Howling, Gin clawed and tore at the ground, foam flicking from his mouth as he fought to get free, but it was no use. The roots were young and strong, and, as much as he struggled, they would not let him go.

  Josef stared in confusion for a moment and then glanced over at Eli, who looked to be in deep conversation with the stand of oaks on the far side of the clearing, and his face fell.

  “Powers, Eli, did you have to?” He slammed his swords back into their sheaths. “Things were finally getting interesting.”