The Spirit Rebellion (5 page)

Josef snorted. “Funny way of putting it, coming from you.”

Eli just gave him a look and set off through the trees.

Though she’d entered the woods only moments before them, there was no sign of Pele’s passing. Eli, Josef, and Nico stumbled in the direction she’d gone, following the dry streambed that was the best they could do for a path. Now that Pele had come out to greet them, the trees were whispering openly, and what they had to say made Eli’s ears burn.

“Honestly,” he muttered, kicking a sapling as they passed. “She’s
right here
.” He looked over his shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, Nico! They’re just a bunch of prejudiced, gossipy old hardwoods with nothing better to do.”

The trees rustled madly at this, but Nico just kept walking with her head down, giving no sign that she heard his voice or theirs. Eli looked away. The girl was looking bad. She’d been unusually quiet since they’d left Mellinor, even for Nico, and while she’d been eating as normal, she
seemed to be getting thinner. Eli didn’t know if that was just the effect of seeing her without her bulky coat all the time, or if he just thought she was larger than she was, but he’d heard Josef talking to her about it as well, at night when the swordsman thought he was asleep. Also, no one, wizard or otherwise, could miss the way her manacles danced on her wrist, jittering across her skin even when she was sleeping. That was new since she’d lost the coat, and Eli didn’t like it one bit. Overhead, the trees were whispering again, and Eli gritted his teeth, picking up the pace as they pushed through the thickening woods.

Fortunately, they didn’t have much farther to go. The woods opened up just a few steps later, and they found themselves at the edge of a sandy-bottomed valley. At the center, sitting crooked on what had been the sandy bank of a now-dead stream, was a house. It was two stories and heavy-timbered, with a shingle roof and a tall chimney made of river stones. It was a handsome house and well constructed, but quite normal looking until you got to the foundation. There, things took a turn for the bizarre. Where a normal house would have sat on the ground, or stood on stone supports, this one crouched on four wooden legs. They were made of the same dark wood as the cabin, beautifully carved with scales and lifelike wrinkles right down to the clawed feet. At first glance, this could have been passed off as eccentric architecture, but then the legs moved, like an animal shifting its weight, and the house shifted with them.

“No matter how many times I see it,” Eli said, “I never get used to it.” He set off across the sand, dragging Josef, who was still gawking, along behind him.

Thanks to the legs, the house’s doorstep was a good
five feet off the ground. The gap was covered by a set of rickety stairs that would have been suspect in a normal building, let alone a moving one.

“I hate this part,” Eli said, grabbing the rope banister as the house shifted again. “I’m already feeling seasick.”

“Just go,” Josef said, giving him a push. Eli grunted and stumbled forward, pulling himself up enough to knock on the door.

It was opened immediately by a scowling Pele.

“Took you long enough,” she said, stepping back. “Come in and don’t hang on the stairs. They’re set to go any day now.”

“Ever the charming and comforting hostess,” Eli said as he lurched into the house. Josef and Nico followed more gracefully, and Pele shut the door behind them.

They were standing in a tiny entryway lined with pairs of oiled boots and racks of heavy coats. Eli pressed himself against the wall, partially to make room for Pele to get by and partially to steady himself against the sway of the house as it rocked on its spindly wooden legs. If the motion bothered Pele, she didn’t let on; she simply turned and motioned for them to follow her down a long, narrow hallway riddled with doors to other rooms. They passed a sitting room stuffed with books, a small kitchen with a warm hearth and a heavy table piled with chopped vegetables, and even a stone-tiled bathroom complete with an iron tub and a barrel full of steaming water. As they walked, Eli could hear the house adjusting to accommodate their presence, the scrape of chairs scooting themselves under tables when they passed the kitchen, or open books slamming shut on the library desk. Josef must have heard it, too, for the swordsman’s hands went to rest on
the blades at his hip. Eli let him be nervous. Explaining the complex ecosystem of Slorn’s house was more work than he had the patience for at the moment.

The long hallway ended at a closed door. Pele stopped and knocked softly. Almost instantly a deep voice inside rumbled, and Pele pulled the handle.

Almost too late, Eli remembered this was Josef and Nico’s first time visiting Slorn. A warning of some sort was probably wise.

“Remember,” he whispered over his shoulder as they stepped through the door. “Don’t stare.”

Josef gave him a confused look, but then they were walking through the door and his eyes went wide as Eli’s meaning became clear.

They were standing at the end of a long, well-lit room with a cheery fire in the hearth and a dozen lamps swinging from the tall rafters. Long as the room was, it was mostly taken up by a heavy table large enough to seat eight full-grown men, but which was currently covered with everything from pieces of driftwood to incredibly intricate parts of unknown machinery. At the table’s head, an enormous man sat hunched over, working an iron ingot between his enormous hands like a potter works clay. At first glance, he could have been one of the giant, northern woodsmen, but with one slight, important difference. At his shoulders, where his neck should have been, rose the furry head of a black bear.

It was a sharp change, human skin suddenly giving way to black fur, as though the man’s own head had been chopped off and a bear’s put in its place. But other than the horrible wrongness, it was a natural transition. The man part of him looked like any other man, and the bear part looked like any
other bear. His nose was black and wrinkled and it quivered under his slow breathing. Yellow teeth glinted in a jaw that could crush a man’s head, but his dark, wide-set eyes were calm and thoughtful as they watched the iron yield to his hands. Although Eli knew what to expect, a shudder ran from his feet to his head. No matter how many times it happened, seeing Slorn was always a bracing experience.

“You’re staring,” said a gruff voice, more growl than speech. The bear looked up, his dark eyes passing over Eli’s shoulder to the man behind him. “I heard Monpress tell you not to do that.”

Eli heard the creak of leather as Josef’s hands tightened on the knives at his hip, and the bear-headed man made a low rumbling sound that was eerily close to a chuckle. “Don’t insult my house with those dull blades, swordsman. Unless you mean to draw the monster on your back, or the monster at your side”—his dark eyes flicked to Nico, who was pinned to Josef’s arm—“I suggest you calm down.”

Josef relaxed slightly, and the bear grinned, a disturbing sight. “Come,” Slorn said. He tossed the iron down and motioned to the bench. “Sit and tell me how I might get rid of you.”

“Now, Heinricht,” Eli said, plopping down at the table across from him, “is that any way to treat your customers?”

“I’m a craftsman,” Slorn said, resting his furry chin on his knuckles. “Not a shopkeeper. Get to the point.”

Eli leaned forward. “You see that timid little thing beside my swordsman?” he whispered conspiratorially. “I need you to make her a new coat.”

Slorn’s dark eyes flicked over to the girl who was huddling in the doorway, as far from the bear-headed man
as she could get, her eyes wide and disturbingly bright. They stared at each other for a long minute, then Slorn gave Eli a tired glare.

“When you asked for a cloth that could hide a demonseed’s presence,” he said, “and manacles to hold it down, I made them. I did it in thanks for the great service you had done me, and I asked no questions. But the debts between us are paid, Monpress. I took the risk of letting you find me today out of respect for our history together, but understand that doing what you ask now will put me in a very tenuous position. What compensation have you brought to make it worth my while?”

Eli’s smile brightened, and he motioned to Josef. The swordsman hefted the sack of Mellinor’s gold, which he had lugged halfway across the known world for this purpose, walked over to the table, and set it down with a very satisfactory thump. Eli reached out and undid the leather strap, letting the gold spill out in a glittering cascade.

“A king’s ransom,” he said smugly. “Well, part of one. There’s enough in there to buy you a castle, though it’d be up to you to put legs on it. I think that should more than cover one little coat.”

Slorn looked at the pile and then at Eli. “I asked you what compensation you’d brought. All I see here is a lot of money.”

Eli’s smug expression faltered just a hair. “Surely even the great Heinricht Slorn needs to buy things on occasion.”

“If I wanted
money
”—Slorn spat the word with disgust—“I could get more than this from far better company.” He leaned back, folding his arms over his massive chest. “What else did you bring?”

“False hopes, apparently.” Eli sighed. “Look, bearface,
we’re in a bit of a bind.” His hand shot out and grabbed Nico’s wrist, pulling her out from behind Josef and pinning her arm to the table before she could react. He pressed it down, letting the sound of the manacle rattling against the wood make his point for him.

“I don’t have to tell you what that means,” he said softly, meeting Slorn’s dark, animal stare. “You made them. If you don’t want gold, tell me your price and I’ll steal it for you, but if you’re not going to help us, just say so and we’ll get out of your fur.”

Nico tugged her hand out of Eli’s grasp, but he didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on the bear-headed man, who was scratching his muzzle thoughtfully.

“Perhaps we can come to an arrangement,” Slorn growled at last. “I’ve been doing some work on my own, and I think I can make your girl a coat better than the one before. Something made to withstand your”—he paused, looking them over—“harsh lifestyle. In return, however, I want you to do a job for me.”

Eli arched his eyebrows. “And what kind of job would this be?”

“Something right up your alley, I’d think,” Slorn said. “I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you before we have an agreement.”

Warning bells sounded in Eli’s head, and he gave the crafter a suspicious look. “It’s not usually my policy to make deals without knowing what I’m getting into.”

Slorn shrugged. “If you don’t like it, you’re free to go and find a coat elsewhere. Better decide quickly, though. Your demonseed is starting to make the furniture nervous.”

As if on cue, the bench they were sitting on started to
rumble and tried to tip backward. Josef slammed his feet and leaned forward, pinning it with his weight. Eli shook his head and turned back to the bear-headed man.

“You make a good point,” he said. “All right, we’ll take your job,
but
”—he pointed his finger directly at Slorn’s snout—“you’re making the coat first. Nico’s an important part of my team. I need her in peak condition if we’re going to do a job, especially one you won’t tell me about beforehand.”

On the other side of Josef, Eli heard Nico straighten up, and a warm feeling of satisfaction went through him. Perhaps the girl wasn’t as unfeeling as she made out.

Slorn, however, did not look convinced. “How do I know you won’t just run off?”

Eli clasped his chest. “You wound me! I would never risk losing your good opinion, or all the nice toys you keep making me.”

“Fair enough,” Slorn said, standing up. “You have your deal. Pele, take the girl upstairs and measure her. I’ll start on the cloth tonight.”

Pele nodded and pushed off the wall she’d been leaning on. She looked at Nico and jerked her head in the direction of the tiny staircase that led to the house’s attic. “This way.”

If possible, Nico’s face went paler. She looked at Josef, almost like she was asking permission, but the swordsman just stared right back at her. Biting her thin lip, Nico left Josef’s side and crept up the stairs after Pele, keeping her arms crossed over her chest and staying as far from the walls as she could. When she reached the tiny landing, she gave Josef and Eli one last terrified look before Pele ushered her into a brightly lit room and shut the door behind them.

“They won’t be long,” Slorn said, moving across the room with surprising lightness for such a tall, broad man. “We need to move quickly. The manacles were never meant to do their job alone.”

“I thought the coat was just a cover,” Josef said, standing up. “A front to hide what she is so the spirits won’t panic.”

“That’s part of it,” Slorn answered. “But demons feed on all parts of a spirit, including fear. In the absence of its cover, the seed has been gorging, and not just on the fear around the girl, but on her own as well. As it eats, it grows, and as it grows, the girl’s fight to keep her mind becomes harder and harder.” The bear-headed man knelt down by a chest that opened instantly for him, the lid popping up of its own accord. “I cannot undo the damage that has already been done, but I can slow down the process by hiding what she is, cutting off the demon’s food source and allowing Nico to regain some measure of control.”

He stopped searching through the trunk and turned to look at them, his bear eyes dark and sad. “You understand, of course, that this is only a delay. No matter how many layers of protection we swaddle the girl in, so long as she lives, her seed will continue to grow. Whether it comes tomorrow or a year from now, the end will be the same. The demonseed will eat her, body and soul, and there will be nothing you can do.”