had to make some large concessions, but I think we ended up with the better deal in the end.”
“What kind of concessions?”
“He wants his welcome to the Council issued by Whitefall himself,” Sparrow said, flopping down into a chair beside the fire. “Here, by the end of the month.”
Tesset winced. “That’s a tall order. Sara will have your skin.”
“I don’t think she’ll care one jot when she hears what she’ll be getting in exchange,” Sparrow said, grinning wide. “Not just the thief, but the Heart of War. Plus freedom to search for Slorn and all the other little things we’ll wring out once Izo’s prancing around in his crown like a little girl playing princess.”
Nico’s head shot up, and she wasn’t alone. Even Tesset’s eyes went wide.
“The Heart of War?” Tesset said. “You mean the great awakened sword?”
“You know of anything else with such a pretentious name?” Sparrow yawned. “I just got back from having a look for myself. No wonder no one recognizes it. It looks like a piece of junk. Great big dented black metal monstrosity, almost as bad as those Fenzettis Sara made us hunt down last year. It didn’t even glow. Even the cheap awakened swords glow, but I didn’t see a thing.”
“How do you know it’s real, then?” Tesset said. “Sara won’t be happy if you make her pull strings for a bluff.”
“Who do you take me for?” Sparrow scoffed. “I tried to pick it up, but I couldn’t even move the hilt. Couldn’t even wiggle it. That sword has the weight of a mountain, just like Sara said. Fortunately, its wielder is still breathing or we’d be in real trouble, paying through the nose for a sword we can’t move.”
“Josef’s alive?”
Both men turned to glare at her, but Nico didn’t care. Her relief was like a crushing weight on her chest, grinding every other concern into dust. “Is he all right?”
Sparrow considered a moment before answering. “He’s alive for now, and less bloody than I’d expect. But seeing as he’s under the questionable care of Izo’s surgeons, all of whom seem to be bandits no more intelligent or sober than the common rabble, that’s all I can say for now.”
Nico took a deep breath, and Sparrow chuckled.
“This must be what they call ‘loyalty among thieves,’ ” he said. “Your concern is truly touching, but I suggest you worry less about the swordsman and more about yourself, darling. Of every piece of this expedition, yours is the most expendable. The only reason you’re alive right now is because of Slorn.”
Nico shrank back into her coat. “Slorn?”
“You’re something of a consolation prize,” Sparrow said, taking off his boots. “Slorn’s research on demonseeds and the corresponding nature of the spirits they inhabit is priceless. However, with the death of his current experimental specimen, my mistress is worried he’ll drift out of the field. That’s why we’re giving him you. Sara has long known of Slorn and Eli’s friendship and the coats he makes to hide your… condition. Your job will be to keep Slorn happy, give him something to study once we bring him back to Zarin. Assuming, of course, we can find him at all.” Sparrow frowned in annoyance. “He’s being very difficult at the moment. But don’t fret, darling. If nothing else, we’ll trade you in to the League. Sara just loves having Alric owe her favors.”
He spoke so fast his words made Nico dizzy. He reminded her of Eli when the thief was making a particular effort to be as difficult as possible. Still, his point was clear enough. She was a payoff, either to Slorn or to the League. That alone gave her leverage, and if Eli had taught her anything, it was that leverage was never something to waste.
“If I cooperate,” Nico said slowly, “will you make sure Josef gets what he needs to heal?”
“Of course,” Sparrow said. “Considering we need his carcass to haul the Heart of War, he’s safer than you. Though don’t go getting any ideas. This can be as pleasant as you choose to make it. Sit in your corner like a good girl, don’t give Tesset any excuse to do what we pay him to do, and everything will be nice and smooth.” He reached into his waist pocket and pulled out something that looked like a blue glass ball on a leather thong, which he proceeded to roll between his fingers. “I’ve got to report in and get Sara to agree to all this, and then I’m going to bed. Tesset, since you never seem to sleep anyway, you’ve got night watch.”
Tesset nodded, never taking his eyes off Nico as Sparrow stood and climbed the ladderlike stairs into the house’s upper loft. There was some commotion as he settled into bed, and then a blue glow flashed in the dark. It shimmered for a moment, cold and watery on the cabin’s pointed ceiling, before vanishing as he threw his covers over it. If she strained her ears, Nico could just make out Sparrow’s hushed voice speaking as though he were having a conversation. No matter how hard she listened, however, she couldn’t make out the words. Eventually, she sat back against the wall and turned her attention to Tesset, who hadn’t moved an inch from his seat by the fire.
Unbidden, her eyes went to the smooth, unmarred skin of his throat, and the black arm she kept buried against her chest began to itch and tremble. How had he done it? She’d felt the connection open, felt the demon as it started to eat him. How had he pushed it back?
Across the room, Tesset’s eyes flicked from the fire to meet hers again. “You’re wondering how I stopped you?”
Nico froze. Could he read minds as well?
“Go on,” he said. “Ask. The first step toward knowledge is a question.”
Nico bit her lip. This could be a bluff, a trick to get her to reveal a weakness. But the man across from her didn’t seem like the tricky type, and Sparrow had made it perfectly clear she meant little to them. Underneath her coat, her arm was itching more than ever, and she decided to risk it.
“How did you do it?”
“I’ve already told you,” Tesset answered. “Back in the woods. You could not eat me because I did not will it.”
“I don’t understand,” Nico said. “Will stops spirits, not demons.”
“And what are you?” Tesset said.
Nico looked down at the floor. “A demonseed.”
“Wrong,” Tesset snapped. “The demonseed is what’s inside you. But you are a human, the greatest spirit of all. The spirit with will, who can control all others.”
“That’s not true,” Nico said. “A wizard can’t control another human.”
Tesset stood up, pulling his bench closer to Nico’s corner until he was almost on top of her. “We have a long night ahead,” he said, sitting down. “Let me tell you a story.”
“What kind of story?” Nico said, pressing her back to the wall. This close, it took all of her strength to keep her arm from lashing out again. She kept it pinned behind her, the long demon claws scraping at the back of her coat.
“The best kind,” Tesset said, settling in with no care for the danger of being so close to a demonseed. “A true one.”
He gave her a knowing smile and began.
“I was born in these mountains, and like all male children born here, I joined a bandit gang as soon as I was old enough to follow orders. I was a hotheaded boy with a small, closed mind and a knack for getting in fights. A good bandit, in other words. I was also a wizard, someone who could listen to the winds and trees passably well. A powerful combination, and one that landed me a nice position in Mel’s Red Fist, the largest and most fearsome of the bandit gangs at that time. I loved being in the Red Fist. This was thirty years ago, before the Council of Thrones was around to give bandits a hard time. Pickings were fat, and we were the richest, scariest guys around. That’s a heady thing for a kid, and I was deadly loyal to Mel, the man who’d brought it all together and the greatest fighter I’d ever seen.
“The day after I turned seventeen, we returned to our camp to find a man waiting for us. This wasn’t unusual. We often had vagabonds and deserters from other bandit gangs show up begging to join the Red Fist, but this man was different. He was the largest man I’d ever seen. He had no weapon, and he was dressed in rags and cast-off furs, but the way he carried himself made other fighters look like bumbling toddlers. He just stood there in the center of camp as we rode in, making our usual ruckus, and when we were quiet, he asked which of us was the boss.
“After a good laugh at the stranger’s expense, Mel rode forward and announced that he was the leader of the Red Fist. As soon as he said this, the stranger challenged him to a fight. He’d heard Mel was the strongest of the bandit leaders, having the biggest, strongest gang and a nasty reputation as a dirty fighter, and he wanted to
