The Spirit Rebellion: The Legend of Eli Monpress: Book 2

sir?”

“Hmm,” merchant Eli droned, not bothering to look away from the window. “Give me a half dozen of those little fruit things, and a loaf of whatever’s cheap, for my boy here. Something hearty-these swordsmen eat you out of house and home.”

Josef didn’t have to fake his scowl, and the baker’s red face paled. “Of course, sir, at once.”

He went over to the shelves and began pulling things down with the hesitant clumsiness of someone who didn’t usually do this himself.

“Where are your apprentices?” Eli said, casually leaning on the spotless counter. “I can’t imagine you run this shop alone.”

“Oh, no,” the baker said and laughed. “But you know how boys are. They ran off to the square as soon as they heard the news. The duke’s called in the conscriptions, the whole lot, word is.” He huffed as he set out the tarts. “I’m just thankful I got dispensation on account of my shop, or I’d be grabbing my sword too.”

“Conscriptions?” Eli said. “Why? Is Gaol under attack?”

“Oh, no.” The baker shook his head. “Who’d attack Gaol? No, sir, word everywhere is that Eli Monpress robbed the duke’s fortress last night.”

The silver coins stopped flashing in Eli’s hand.

“Really,” he said, almost too casually. “How do you know it was Monpress? Did they catch him?”

“No,” the baker said, fishing a loaf of brown bread out of the bin. “There’s been no official word yet, but if they’d caught the thief, I doubt Duke Edward would bother with conscripts.” He gave Eli a wink. “That’s how we know it was Monpress. Who else would warrant mobilizing the whole country to catch him?”

“Who else, indeed,” Eli said. “But it’s been hours since the robbery if Monpress robbed the citadel last night. Wouldn’t the thief have escaped by now?”

“I don’t see how he could have,” the baker said, packing Eli’s order into a small wicker basket. “The duke closed the gates before dawn this morning. They say Monpress can move through shadows and kill guards just by looking, but that’s rubbish. Whatever his bounty, he’s human, and nothing human could have gotten through the duke’s security.”

“Why do you say that?” Josef asked, glaring at the baker from his place on the wall. “The thief got in, didn’t he?”

The baker jumped and looked at Eli, obviously waiting for him to discipline his guard, but Eli was staring out the window, studying the citadel and the growing crowd with intense interest. Realizing he wouldn’t get any backup from that quarter, the baker sullenly packed the last of Eli’s pastries into the basket. When he was done, he had to wait a moment while Eli tore himself away from the window, but the pile of silver Eli tossed on the counter quickly smoothed over any hurt feelings.

“Thank you, sir,” the baker said, bowing graciously as Eli swept out of the bakery with Josef on his heels.

The moment they stepped onto the street, Eli veered hard right, and they ducked down a narrow but shockingly clean alley. Nico was waiting for them, and she helped herself to one of the pastries from Eli’s basket as soon as he was close.

“What’s going on?” she asked, biting into the corner of the flaky tart.

“Someone got here before us,” Josef said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “I’d like to know who.”

“I have an idea,” Eli said carefully, picking a tart out of the pile. “But I’d have to get a look at the scene of the crime to be sure.”

“What?” Josef said. “You mean inside the citadel? The one surrounded by armed guards?”

“Well, I certainly can’t tell anything from out here,” Eli said.

Josef frowned. “You do realize this could all be part of the trap.”

“What?” Eli said, his mouth full of sweet pastry. “Fake a robbery so I’d come and investigate? That’s a bit of a long shot. Think of it like this: We’re here for a Fenzetti blade. Now, if another thief did break in, he either took the blade with him or had to leave it. Either way, we have to go into that citadel, either to pick up the thief’s trail or get the blade for ourselves. The way I see it, we’ve just had the opportunity of a lifetime dropped in our laps. They’re getting their orders now, but in a few moments, that whole crowd of citizen soldiers is going to start tearing this town apart looking for Eli Monpress. By going into the citadel, we’ll be going to the only place they’re not going to be looking. No thief good enough to get into the Duke of Gaol’s citadel would ever return to the scene of the crime. When you look at it that way, the citadel’s the safest place in the city for us to be right now.”

Josef gave him a long look, casually sliding a dagger in and out of his sleeve as he thought about it. “That’s some twisted Eli logic,” he said at last, “but I’ll bite. Anyway, sneaking into a citadel sounds a lot more interesting than hiding in a warehouse until dark.”

“Ah,” Eli said, licking the last of the tart off his fingers. “But that’s the brilliant bit of the plan. We won’t be sneaking. They’re going to let us in all nice and legal.”

Josef arched an eyebrow. “How are you going to manage that?”

Eli only smiled and shoved the wicker basket at him. “Just eat your breakfast. I’ve got to do some shopping. Be back in five minutes.”

Josef barely had time to grab the basket before Eli was gone, ducking back out into the street with a flash of fake golden hair and vanishing expertly into the crowd. Josef stood there, holding the basket and watching where Eli had been for a moment, and then he sighed and sank back against the wall.

“Never boring with him, is it?” he said, fishing the loaf out of the basket and biting deep into the warm, dark bread.

Nico shook her head and helped herself to another tart.

Ten minutes later, Eli popped back into the alley carrying a small velvet bag in his fist and grinning like a cat who’d just eaten a coop of canaries. Josef stopped twirling the empty breadbasket between his fingers and straightened up. “What did you buy?”

“Take a look,” Eli said and opened the drawstring, upturning the velvet bag over his open hand. There was a faint tinkling sound, and a glittering cascade fell out of the bag into Eli’s waiting palm. They were rings. Jeweled rings in a rainbow of colors, all set in gold bands of various thickness. Some of the stones were round and smooth, others were cut to sharp points that refracted the morning light in glowing colors, and not a single one was smaller than the first knuckle of Eli’s thumb. They were, in short, the tackiest, gaudiest jewelry Josef had ever seen.

“Powers, Eli,” Josef said, picking up a ring set with a ruby that was almost larger than the embellished band it was attached to. “I hope you stole these. I can’t imagine paying good money for something this ugly.”

“Oh, I paid for them,” Eli said, shoving the rings onto his fingers. “But not much, don’t worry. They’re glass. Fakes. I saw them in the window of one of the stores as we were walking up. They’re what gave me the idea for how we’re going to get into the citadel, actually. Look.” He held up his newly adorned hands and wiggled his fingers. “Remind you of anyone?”

He’d crammed the rings onto every finger, thumbs included. His right pinky actually had two rings, both smaller gold and pearl bands that looked like something a father would buy for his spoiled daughter. But he was right, the effect was familiar, and Josef began to understand.

It didn’t seem possible, but Eli’s grin grew even wider. “Come on,” he said, turning on his heel. “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had all year.”

Josef stepped out after him. Nico, still licking her sticky fingers, kept right on the swordsman’s heels.

CHAPTER 12

Gin made good on his boast. He ran like the wind itself, his long legs eating up the miles as they ran cross-country, on road and off. His orange eyes were completely unhindered by the darkness, and he