crimes in more than one kingdom.” Eli reached into the pocket of his faded blue jacket and pulled out a folded square of paper, which he shook out proudly. It was his wanted poster, the same one the king had seen in the rose garden back when Eli had been his prisoner, and not the other way around.
Eli held the poster up. “Only the biggest criminals, those considered to be a danger to every member kingdom of the Council, are listed on the Council wanted board, and that means the bounties have to be in amounts that can get the attention of whole kingdoms, not just small-time bounty hunters.
“As you see,” he said, tapping the numbers under his portrait, “my head, dead or alive, is currently worth twenty thousand gold standards. This price is guaranteed by five countries, each of which pledged a little of its hard-earned money to entice men like yourself to try and catch me. Since you’ve made such a fuss over how you can’t pay the whole amount of your ransom at the moment, I’m going to cut you a deal. All you have to do to buy your freedom is top what those countries have offered by pledging your ransom to my bounty. Minus, of course, the five thousand in cash we’ll be taking with us. Still, that means the kingdom of Mellinor will be responsible for the remaining thirty-five thousand only in the unlikely event of my capture. Now,” he said, folding the poster back into a square, “I think that’s more than fair. What do you say, Mr. King?”
The king didn’t have much to say to that, actually. This was either the worst kidnapping in history or the best Council fundraiser he’d ever seen.
“So,” he said slowly, “Mellinor pledges the thirty-five thousand to your bounty, we give you five thousand in cash, and you let me go. But,” he said and paused, desperately trying to find some sense in what was happening, “that will bring your bounty to fifty-five thousand gold standards. It doesn’t make sense at all. You’re a thief! Won’t having a higher bounty make stealing things more difficult?”
“Any thief worth the name can
He said it with such gravity that the king couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. He laughed until the ropes cut into his skin and his throat was thick with grit from the dirt floor. Eli just watched him convulse, a calm smile on his face.
At last, the king’s laughter receded into gasps and hiccups, and he slumped to the floor with a sigh. “One
“If they’re all as easily gotten as you were,” Eli said with a grin, “that won’t be a problem.” He gave the king a pat on the head, like he was a royal puppy, and stood up. He stepped over the sprawled king and crouched down behind him, where the king’s hands were tied.
The king wiggled, trying to get a look at what Eli was doing. But the thief put his boot on the king’s side, keeping him still while he reached down and brushed his fingers over the rope at the king’s hands and ankles. “Thank you very much,” Eli said. “You’ve been most helpful. I think he’s got the point, though, so you can let him go now.”
Henrith was about to ask who he thought he was talking to when the rope at his hands wiggled like a snake. He jumped as the rope untied itself and fell into a neat coil at his side. Eli reached down and picked the rope up, leaving the king slack-jawed on the floor.
“Good-natured rope,” the thief cooed, holding the coils up. “It’s always such a pleasure to work with.”
He left the king gaping in the dirt and went over to a corner where a small pile of leather packs leaned against the wall, well away from the fire. He tucked the rope carefully into the pack on the top and began to dig through the others, looking for something.
Henrith sat up gingerly, squeezing his hands to get the feeling back and trying not to think too hard about what had just happened. By the time he got the blood flowing in his fingers again, Eli was back, this time shoving a pen nib, ink pot, and a sheaf of slightly dirty paper into the king’s hands.
“All right, Your Majesty,” he said, grinning. “If you would write a letter detailing what we talked about, I’ll make sure it gets sent to whoever deals with this sort of thing. Be sure to stipulate that you will not be returned until I see my new wanted poster-that part is key. With any luck, this will all be over in a few days and we’ll never have to see each other again.”
He clapped the king on the shoulder one last time and stood up. “Nico,” he said. “I’m going to find someone who wants to carry a letter. Would you mind watching our guest? I want to make sure he doesn’t get any ideas that might come to a sad conclusion.”
The girl nodded absently, never looking up from the fire. Eli gave the king a final wink before opening the cabin door and walking out into the sunlight. The swordsman, who had long finished skinning his rabbits, picked up his iron sword and followed, leaving the king alone in the small, dark hut with the girl.
Her back was to him, and King Henrith flexed his newly freed hands again. The door was only a few feet away.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I wouldn’t suggest it.”
The sudden edge in her voice nearly made him jump backward. He froze as she turned to look at him. When her brown eyes locked with his, the feeling of oblivion came roaring back. Suddenly, it was very hard to breathe.
“Write your letter,” she said, and turned back to the fire.
He took a shuddering breath and spread the paper out on his knee. With one last look at the girl’s back, he leaned over and began to write his ransom note.
“That was stupid,” Josef said, closing the rickety door behind him.
“Why do you say that?” Eli asked, scanning the treetops. They were standing in the small clearing outside of the forester’s hut that Eli had “repurposed” for this operation. High overhead, sunlight streamed through the treetops while hidden birds called to one another from their branches. Eli whistled back.
Josef scowled, leaning against the small trees that shielded their hut from view. “Why did you put that part in about seeing the poster? This job has dragged on long enough already. We’ll be here forever if we have to wait on Council politics.”
“You’d be surprised how sprightly they can be when there’s a lot of money involved,” Eli said, and whistled again. “The Council gets a percent fee on capture for every bounty posted, and fifty-five thousand is a lot of money, even for them.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad if there was something to do,” Josef said, stabbing his iron sword into the patchy grass at their feet. The battered black blade slid easily into the dirt, as though the hard, rocky ground were loose sand. “There’s no challenge in this country. The city guards were a joke. The palace had no swordsmen, no wizards. I don’t understand why we even bothered to sneak in.”
“A job finally goes smoothly,” Eli said, “and you’re complaining? All we have to do is lounge around for a few days, collect the money, get my new bounty, and we can be on our way.”
“Smooth jobs are boring,” the swordsman grumbled, “and you’re the only one who enjoys lounging.”
“You might like if you tried it,” Eli said.
Josef shook his head and Eli turned back to the leafy canopy, whistling a third time. This time something whistled in answer, and a small falcon swooped down to land on the moss beside him.
“You needed a break anyway,” Eli said, kneeling down. “You’re too tense these days.”
“I’m not tense,” Josef said, pushing himself off the trees with a grunt. “Just bored.”
He yanked his sword out of the ground and walked off into the forest, tossing the enormous blade between his hands as though it were made of paper. Eli watched him leave with a mixed expression, and then, shrugging, he turned back to the falcon and began talking it into taking a message to the castle.
CHAPTER 5
