Spirit’s End: An Eli Monpress Novel

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Spirit’s End: An Eli Monpress Novel Page 2

by Rachel Aaron


  What’s the matter, love? Benehime whispered, sinking onto the pillow beside him. You’re shaking. Are you cold?

  Not trusting his voice, Eli shook his head. Benehime sighed and pulled him into her lap. Eli cringed from her touch before he could stop himself, and the Shepherdess froze.

  Never pull away from me, she said, her voice cold as glacier melt. You love me.

  “I love you,” Eli repeated automatically, letting her move him as she liked. They sat like that for a while, tangled together, and then Benehime spoke.

  Always remember, love, she said softly, kissing his hair, the world is a horrible place without gratitude or understanding. No matter how hard you work, you will never be thanked and you will never be loved. But we will always be together, darling. I will always love you, and you will always love me. Now, tell me you love me.

  “I love you,” Eli said again.

  Benehime nodded and pulled him closer, crushing him against her chest until he could barely breathe. Whatever happens, my favorite—she kissed him again and again—whatever comes, remember, I am all that matters in the world for you. I am your hope and your salvation. Love me forever and I will raise you up when all others are cast off. Though the world may end, no harm shall ever come to you. I swear it.

  Eli nodded, letting the White Lady kiss him, but even as her lips landed again and again, all he could think of was her face, cruel and unrecognizable, as she crushed the Spiritualist’s onyx ring in her fist. And it was that moment, in the space between one kiss and the next, that Eli knew things could never be the same again.

  After that night, Eli knew no peace.

  Nothing changed at first. He continued as always, following Benehime wherever she needed to go, entertaining her when she was bored, telling her he loved her whenever prompted, like a little parrot. But he didn’t mean it, not anymore.

  Now that he’d seen the truth once, he saw it all the time—the cruel shadow that lay behind her white smile. The way she held him just a hair too tightly. The faint threat in her voice every time she told him to say he loved her. But worst of all were the spirits.

  Before, when they’d trembled in front of Benehime, Eli had always thought it was from awe. He now saw the shaking for what it really was: pure terror. He would stand beside the Lady as she dealt with the spirits, hating every second of it. Hating her for being that way. Hating himself for not seeing it sooner.

  It hurt to think how childish he’d been, how naive. He’d thought he was important, having spirits bow to him as they bowed to her, but he was nothing but a shadow, an afterthought of their fear. It made him sick. Living with his father in the tower, the spirits had been his friends. They’d been kind to him when Banage had driven all kindness out in the name of discipline, and this was how he repaid them? Following their tyrant around, lapping up her attention like a little lovesick dog?

  The truth of it ate at him like a worm. Everything Benehime did now—the forced kisses, the constant promises she wrung out of him—made Eli furious. Every day he felt more used and helpless, more disgusted, but what could he do? Benehime was always with him. She didn’t sleep, only sat beside him while he did. She never let him out of her sight save for those times when she vanished mysteriously.

  Eli didn’t follow her anymore; he’d seen as much of her true nature as he cared to. But even if he had taken those chances to open a hole and escape, she would find him. Assuming the spirits didn’t report him at once, Benehime had told him many times that his soul shone like a beacon. All she had to do was look at her sphere and pick him out. No, if he wanted to escape for real, for good, Eli would have to convince Benehime to let him go. Of course, he had about as much chance of that as of convincing gravity not to pull him down, but even at fourteen, Eli was never one to let impossibilities stand in his way.

  It took eight months before he finally came up with a plan that had a chance of working. He spent another month refining it, and yet another being the best possible boy Benehime could ever ask for just to make sure she wouldn’t be suspicious. Finally, when the plan was firmly cemented in his mind and Benehime was in the best mood he could manage, Eli sprang.

  They were in the jungle far, far south of the Council Kingdoms. Eli had suggested the place because it was at the other end of the world from the Lord of Storms’ fortress, and he’d needed as few variables as possible. They were perched in the branches of an obliging tree, their feet dangling lazily in the air. Eli was using the tree’s flowers to make Benehime a crown while the Lady watched, her face beaming with love at the seemingly spontaneous show of affection.

  The moment he laid the crown on her head, Eli said the words he’d been rehearsing to himself for the past eight weeks.

  “Do you remember the story you told me once,” he said, his voice perfectly casual, “about when you first found Nara?”

  Don’t speak her name, Benehime said, adjusting the flower crown with loving fingers. She’s forgotten, my treasure. Only you matter now.

  Eli smiled his best bashful smile and pushed a step further. “Yes, but do you remember how you gave her a wish?”

  Benehime laughed and drew him into her lap. Is that where this is going? she said, kissing his cheek. Do you want a wish, too, love? Silly boy, you know I’ll give you whatever you want.

  “It’s not so much a ‘what’ as something I want to do,” Eli said, reaching into the pocket of his beautiful white shirt and taking out the folded piece of paper he’d so carefully snitched the last time they were in Zarin.

  Benehime’s smile faded as Eli spread the paper across their laps. It was a wanted poster for Den the Warlord. His terrifying face glared up at them, daring anyone to try for the enormous number written in block capitals below him: five hundred thousand gold standards.

  What is this?

  “You remember just before my birthday?” Eli said. “When I said I wanted to be on a wanted poster? Well, I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately, and I think I’m ready.”

  Benehime leaned back to stare at him, her white face genuinely confused. Ready to do what?

  “Get on a poster,” Eli said. “I’ve decided. I want to be a thief. Not just any thief, the world’s greatest thief!”

  Love, Benehime said patiently, if you want something, I’ll give it to you. You don’t have to steal.

  “It’s not about wanting anything,” Eli said. “It’s about being the best. Bounties are a measurement: the bigger the bounty, the better you are at whatever you did. Den was the best betrayer, and his face is known across the Council Kingdoms. Milo Burch was the best swordsman, and now he’s worth more dead than some nobles see in a lifetime. Den’s bounty alone is five hundred thousand gold! One hundred thousand would buy you a good-sized kingdom. How many people can say, ‘My life is worth five kingdoms’?”

  Benehime sighed and pulled the flower crown from her head. Her brows were furrowed, a bad sign. She was losing interest. Eli licked his lips. He’d have to play this next part just right.

  “I’m going to beat that,” he said, grabbing her hand. “I’m going to be the best thief ever. I’m going to steal everything worth stealing. I’m going to be famous all over, and I’m going to get the biggest bounty that’s ever been, twice as big as Den’s. That’s my wish. I want to earn a bounty of one million gold.”

  It was the largest, most impossible number he could think of. Across from him, Benehime shook her head.

  You have the silliest ideas, she said. Why would you want to be a thief?

  “Because stealing’s the only thing I’m good enough at,” Eli said, smiling as he raised his hand.

  Benehime blinked. Eli was holding the flower crown that, a second before, had been safely grasped in her now-empty hands. Suddenly, she began to laugh, reaching out to ruffle Eli’s dark hair with her white fingers.

  I can’t deny you anything, she said. All right, tell me what I have to do to get you your poster.

  Eli took a silent breath. This was it.

&
nbsp; “That’s the thing,” he said, leaning into her touch. “If the bounty’s going to mean anything, I have to earn it myself.”

  The laughter vanished from Benehime’s eyes.

  Eli’s hands began to shake, but he kept his attention locked on the Lady. If he couldn’t finish this now, he would never escape. “I want to find a thief to teach me,” he said, enunciating each word to keep his voice from trembling. “I’ll learn the trade right, and—”

  Enough. Benehime’s voice had changed. It was cold now, and sharp as a razor. Do you think you can outsmart me?

  Eli began to sweat. “I never meant—”

  I may not pay much attention to the affairs of humans, but even I know you’re setting up an impossible situation. A million gold? From stealing? You’d have to steal everything of value on the continent.

  Eli swallowed. “I—”

  You think I can’t see what you’re doing? Benehime’s voice dripped with disgust as she took the crown from Eli’s hand and threw it on the ground far below. I’ve known for some time now that you were changing, Eliton. You tried to hide it, but I know you better than anyone. I knew you were growing distant. The Lord of Storms tried to warn me. He said you’d change, that you’d turn on me. He told me to make you immortal at the beginning, when you were still an innocent child. But I wanted to wait.

  Her hand rose to his chin, delicate white fingers running down the line of his jaw. I wanted to let you grow into your true potential, she whispered. I wanted you to learn how to truly appreciate what you have here. I trusted that even when you knew everything, you would choose me above all else, as I chose you. And now, this is how you repay my faith? A transparent ploy?

  “It’s not a ploy!” Eli lied.

  Of course it is, Benehime said, slapping his face lightly. You know as well as I do you could never earn a million gold. You thought I was ignorant of things like money and bounties, and you meant to play on that ignorance, getting me to agree to let you run off in pursuit of an impossible goal. Let me guess, the next part was that you’d return to me once you’d earned your bounty and we’d be together forever, right?

  Eli winced before he could hide it. She’d seen straight through him. The woman sitting across from him now was not the Benehime he knew, but the true Shepherdess—ruthless, cruel, and very, very dangerous. His heart began to pound as the hand on his cheek slid down to his throat, the slender fingers moving to press gently on his windpipe.

  Come, dear, she whispered. Don’t look so afraid. I still love you more than anything. In fact, I like you best when you’re being sneaky. But we’ll have no more of this leaving talk. You’re mine. My pet. My comfort. My favorite. Now, come and make me another crown and we’ll forget all about this idiocy.

  She lowered her hand and Eli gripped his neck, rubbing the bruised skin. If he’d been older, more experienced, he would have dropped the subject and started picking flowers for a new crown, but he was young. Young and desperate, and as he watched what could be his last chance at freedom vanishing before his eyes, he could not help making a final, desperate grab.

  “You’re wrong,” he said softly.

  Benehime froze, her white body perfectly still. About what?

  “I wasn’t lying to you,” Eli answered. “I do want to become the world’s greatest thief, and I can earn a million gold bounty. You told me I could have whatever I wished for. That’s it. I want the chance to prove you wrong.”

  Benehime sighed. Now you’re just getting desperate, love. The only way you could possibly earn a million gold bounty is if I helped you.

  “You’re wrong!” Eli said, speaking his mind for the first time since the night she’d killed the Spiritualist. “I don’t need your help, and I’m not your pet. I’m a wizard and the best thief around. I can earn a million gold on my own.”

  Don’t be stupid, Benehime said. You think you’re some kind of savant thief because you’ve snatched a few trinkets? The only way you got any of it was because I let you open the portals and steal through the veil. Part of growing up is learning to face the truth, Eliton, and the truth is that you’re nothing without my favor. Just a charming boy with quick hands. How could something so small possibly be enough to earn a million gold?

  Eli swallowed against his pounding heart. “Want to bet?”

  Benehime scowled. What?

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Eli said, speaking quickly before he lost his nerve. “Give me the chance to prove I wasn’t lying before. Let me go learn to be a thief and try to earn that million gold bounty on my own skills. If it really is impossible, if at any point I have to ask for your help, then you win. I’ll come back to you and be everything you want me to be. But if I’m right, if I get a million gold without your help, then you have to let me go free.”

  Benehime leaned in until she was so close Eli could feel her cold breath on his skin. Why would I ever take a bet like that? she said. I hold all the cards. Why should I take a risk?

  “Because if you don’t, then there was no point in letting me grow up,” Eli said, his voice trembling. “You said you wanted me to learn to appreciate you, right? Well, how can I do that if I never get to experience life away from you? If you keep me here, then you’ll never know if I’m lying when I say I love you because I’ve never had the chance to experience life without your love.”

  He leaned forward, closing the tiny gap between them so that their foreheads pressed together. “Let me go,” he whispered, staring into her cold, white eyes. “Let me try it on my own. If I fail, then I’ll have learned how much I need you and I’ll never, ever try to run again. And if I do somehow succeed, then I’ve proven that I love thieving more than I love you, and that sort of man isn’t worthy of being your favorite anyway.”

  I decide who is worthy of my favor, Benehime said, but Eli could hear the consideration in her voice. Behind the blank wall of her white irises, he could almost see her thinking it over, testing the angles, looking for her edge.

  She must have found it, because the Shepherdess leaned in and kissed him. It was a hard kiss, crushing his lips against her burning skin, but when she leaned back, the distance between them felt final. Real.

  I always did like you best at your most defiant, she said, smiling. Very well, you’ve got your chance. But I’m warning you, Eliton, I will hold you to every letter of our deal. You have to do it all yourself, no using my power, no showing your mark. And the moment you get in over your head, the second you have to ask me for help, you belong to me. Forever.

  “Fair deal,” Eli said, a smile spreading over his face. “But you should know better than anyone how stubborn I can be.”

  Benehime almost laughed at that, but caught herself at the last moment. She reached up, resting her white hands on his shoulders. For a moment, Eli thought she was going to pull him into a hug, but then, without warning, she pushed him.

  He toppled off the tree, falling fifteen feet before landing on his back in the wet cushion of leaf litter at the tree’s base. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and for several moments all he could do was gasp for air. When his lungs finally started working again, he sat up with a groan, looking around at the endless forest. Overhead, the tree branch was empty. Benehime was gone.

  He froze a moment, waiting for her to say something. But the forest was silent. Then, like someone opened a door, the sounds came roaring back as the spirits recovered from the Shepherdess’s presence. Eli sat in the muck, trying to get himself to believe what his senses were telling him. Benehime was gone. His gambit had worked. He was free.

  He stood up with a whoop that echoed through the forest, and for ten minutes he danced like an idiot, bouncing off the trees in celebration of his glorious, glorious freedom. The white world was gone. Everywhere he looked he saw color. Spirits buzzed all around him, their noises calm and without fear, and Eli fell to the ground, greeting them with pure joy. The spirits, alarmed at this wizard who was suddenly shouting at them, clammed up immediately, but Eli was too happy
to care.

  After almost half an hour of this, Eli realized he’d better get going. He had a bounty to earn, and he couldn’t do that in the middle of nowhere. Brushing the leaves off his white clothes, Eli reached out to tap the veil and make a door to somewhere useful.

  He caught himself a second before the cut opened. Oh no, it wasn’t going to be that easy. No using the Shepherdess’s gifts, that was the deal, and Eli would stick to it if it killed him. They were enemies in the game now, and if she got even an ounce of leverage on him, she would push on it with everything she had, just as Eli would. Now that he was still, he could almost feel her waiting on the other side of the veil, watching him, urging him to make a mistake, to give her something she could use.

  With a sly smile, Eli drew his hand back and slid it into his pocket. He picked a direction almost at random and began to walk through the forest, whistling as the evening rain began to fall.

  Giuseppe Monpress, the greatest thief in the world, had retired to his northern retreat for a little well-earned rest and to plan his next heist. He was just sitting down to his first dinner in solitude, a splendid roast duck with shallots and an excellent bottle of wine he’d lifted from the Whitefall family’s private cellar, when he heard a knock on his door.

  Monpress froze. This was one of his most secure hideouts. He was high in the Sleeping Mountains, deep in bandit country. But he had an understanding with the local gang, and anyways, bandits didn’t knock. He swirled the wine in his glass, considering his options as the knock came again, louder this time.

  With a long sigh and a sip from his glass, Monpress decided he’d better answer it.

  He pushed his chair back and walked to the door, grabbing his dagger from the mantel, just in case. The knock was sounding a third time when Monpress opened the door and glared down at his most unwelcome visitor.

  It was a boy. Monpress pegged him at a young fifteen. He was scrawny and short for his age with untrimmed black hair and a face that was too likable to mean any good. He was dressed in rags, his feet shoved into ill-fitting shoes that were far too thin for the half foot of snow on the ground, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a good meal in weeks. But, hungry as he must have been, the boy didn’t even glance at the succulent duck sitting on the table. Instead, he looked Monpress straight in the eye and flashed him what the boy probably considered a deeply charming smile.

 

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