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

by Rachel Aaron

  The two men stared at each other, and the hold grew very uncomfortable. Just as things were getting really heavy, Nico spoke.

  “The boat is moving.”

  Both Monpresses blinked in surprise.

  “I guess our good captain decided it was time to go,” the elder Monpress said. “River types can be so impatient.”

  “Well,” Eli said, “not that it hasn’t been a pleasure catching up, but I’m not interested in crawling to Zarin on a riverboat with you, old man. We’ll just take that Fenzetti off your hands and be on our way.”

  Monpress arched an eyebrow, but led them to the back of the hold, stopping in front of a pile of rolled-up woven rugs in a rainbow of colors stacked against the wall. The old thief stood on tiptoe and reached for the one on the very top. He caught the edge with his fingers, then paused and looked over his shoulder.

  “Sir swordsman,” he said, “if you would be so kind. I’m afraid my arms aren’t what they used to be.”

  Josef shrugged, and Monpress stepped back as the swordsman grabbed the rug. He swung it down with a grunt, and it landed hard on the wooden floor of the ship.

  “Heavier than it looks,” Josef said, panting slightly.

  “Must weigh a ton to have you out of breath,” Eli said, kneeling down. “Let’s see it.”

  He gave the rug a push, and it began to unroll, dumping its hidden treasure onto the floor with a dull clatter. For a moment, they all just stared. The thing on the floor was whitish gray, metal, but not at all shiny, and a little longer than Josef’s arm. Its matte surface had a strange, smooth texture, almost like it was made of soap. It was sword-shaped only in theory, and Eli had to look at it from several different angles to figure out which end was the point and which was the hilt.

  Curious, Josef picked it up and gave the white blade a swing. It wobbled through the air, off balance and ungainly, and Josef stuck it into the deck floor, glaring when the dull point couldn’t even pierce the wood.

  “Fenzetti blade,” he grumbled. “More like Fenzetti bat. It doesn’t even have a sharpened edge.”

  “To be expected,” the elder Monpress said. “There’s not a force in the world that could put an edge on bone metal. That’s part of why they’re so hard to sell. Fenzettis are immensely rare, valuable historical pieces that demand a high price. But, in the end, who wants to pay through the nose for an ugly, dull sword?” He shrugged. “Hopeless situation.”

  “Good for you that we’re taking it off your hands, then,” Eli said, grabbing a folded square of crimson-dyed linen from the stack beside him and tossing it to Josef. “Wrap that thing up and let’s get out of here.”

  Josef nodded and started to bind the cloth around the blade. But just as he was tying it off, the boat began to pitch. They all flailed for purchase as the hold lurched below their feet, listing high on the starboard side like a skiff at sea instead of a flat-bottomed riverboat loaded with cargo.

  “What’s going on?” Eli said, getting his feet back under him.

  “I think it’s the wind,” Monpress said, holding onto a support beam as the boat started to level out again.

  “Wind can’t do that,” Josef snapped, but Nico held up her hand.

  “Listen,” she whispered.

  They listened. Sure enough, above the sailor’s cursing and the creaking of the boat was another sound, a deep, howling roar.

  Josef slammed his feet on the ground as the ship finally righted itself. “What kind of wind-”

  He never got to finish because, at that moment, both Nico and Eli slammed their hands over their ears. Monpress and Josef exchanged a confused look.

  “Powers,” Eli gasped.

  “What?!” Josef shouted.

  “It’s the spirits,” Nico said, her voice strained. “They’re all yelling. It’s deafening.”

  Josef’s eyes narrowed. “Demon panic?”

  “No,” Nico looked up, very confused. “They’re shouting an alarm.”

  Josef’s eyebrows shot up. “An alarm?”

  “Yeah,” Eli said. “And it gets worse. We’ve stopped moving.”

  He was right. Though the boat was still rocking from its sudden jump, they weren’t moving forward like before. They weren’t moving at all.

  “Fantastic,” Monpress said. “You know, the only time I ever have trouble like this on a job is when you’re with me, Eli.”

  Eli rolled his eyes and walked over to the closest crate. He plunged his hand between the bolts of wool and came out with a jeweled cup. It was vibrating in his hand and, for those who could hear it, screaming like a banshee.

  “Easy,” Eli said gently.

  The cup ignored him, squealing and spinning in his hand.

  “Shut up,” Eli said, loading a bit more force into his voice.

  It was enough. The cup froze in his hand, looking slightly dazed, or as dazed as a cup could look.

  “Thank you,” Eli said. “What are you doing?”

  “Raising the alarm,” the cup said. “You’re a thief.”

  “Am I?” Eli said. “And how would you know? You’ve been stuffed between textiles all morning.”

  “The wind was the signal,” the cup said haughtily. “No one steals from the Duke of Gaol! He’s already got you surrounded, and when he catches you, we’ll finally be rewarded for years of loyal watching! Finally, after so long things will be-”

  Eli shoved the cup back in the wool, muffling it.

  “What?” Josef said, gripping the Fenzetti blade with both hands as if it was a bow staff.

  “It’s a trap,” Eli said. “Looks like most of this treasure was awakened and set to report their thief’s location. Apparently we’re surrounded.” He glared at the old Monpress. “Why do you never hire a wizard? If you’d just had someone to poke at all this before you hid it, you would have known.”

  The old thief folded his arms over his chest. “Not everything runs by wizard rules,” he said. “And in case you haven’t noticed, now is scarcely the time for blame.” He glanced upward. Sure enough, boots were thumping on the deck above their heads. “Either my sailors have suddenly decided to wear shoes, or we should beat a hasty retreat.”

  “Right,” Eli said. “Is there another way out?”

  “Of course,” Monpress said, beckoning them to follow him. “You’re with me, remember?”

  On the dock, Duke Edward watched the stopped ship with a satisfied smile. Below his feet, the river was perfectly still, holding the boat like a fly in amber as his soldiers swarmed over it.

  “Excellent work, Fellbro.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the river said, its deep voice strained from the pressure of holding the water back. “Are the soldiers almost finished? I don’t think I can keep this up for much longer.”

  “You’ll keep it up until I tell you otherwise,” the duke answered, motioning for another group of soldiers to move into position on the far bank.

  “But”-the river began to tremble-“with all due respect, my lord, you’re asking an imposs-”

  “Fellbro,” the duke said, staring down at the water, which had gone perfectly still, “do you remember when you first swore obedience? What happened that year?”

  The water didn’t answer, so the duke continued. “Do you remember how I dammed your flow and poisoned your water?” Edward leaned closer. “I do. I remember the great floating islands of dead fish, the stench, the flies. How anything that drank your water died within the day. Do you think that was pleasant for either of us?”

  “No, my lord,” the river said.

  The duke leaned closer still, his voice a cutting whisper. “And do you think I would hesitate to do it again?”

  The river’s water sank away from him. “No, my lord.”

  “Then I suggest you stop complaining and find a way to obey me,” the duke said, straightening up. “Do not forget your station, Fellbro.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the river murmured, its water dark and murky.

  Satisfied, the duke turned
to see his soldiers beat down the hold door while another group moved to secure the cabin. He was watching with pleasure when a strong wind blew down beside him.

  “Everything’s in place,” Othril said, panting. “I must have flown across the duchy twice over, but everything is ready on your order. Though”-the wind turned to the boat, ruffling the duke’s graying hair in the process-“we might not need it. The soldiers are almost into the hold, and there’s no other way out. Maybe you overestimated his abilities.”

  “I overestimate nothing,” the duke said, nodding toward the stern of the boat.

  Right where the back of the boat met the water, something was shaking. Then, with a soft crack, the hull popped open and a plank splashed into the water a few feet from the long pier where the soldiers had boarded. The moment the plank hit the water, a small figure dressed in shapeless black jumped out, landing neatly on the dock. The figure was followed by a large man carrying a long, wrapped package, and then an older gentleman who jumped quite gracefully for his age. Last of all, a gangly, dark-haired man leaped from the boat. His jump was awkward, and he almost missed the dock altogether, but the larger man grabbed him at the last moment, pulling him onto the dock, and they started running just as a hail of arrows launched after them from the bow of the ship.

  “Othril,” the duke said quietly. “Close the trap.”

  The wind spun into the sky, shrieking like a kettle. The sound rang out to every corner of Gaol, and the city obeyed.

  “Eli!” Josef shouted. “Now would be a good time for something impressive.”

  They were racing through backstreets. The soldiers weren’t far behind, and though the narrow turns kept the arrows down, who knew how long that would last. But after that horrible, shrieking howl, the soldiers had become the least of their problems.

  From the moment the sound rang out, the town itself had turned against them. The paving stones rumbled, trying to trip them, shutters unlatched themselves and swung freely, aiming right for their faces. Shingles flew from rooftops like arrows, forcing them to duck quickly or risk a caved-in head. Josef kept them moving, turning down smaller and smaller alleys, trying to get some cover. But whenever they changed direction, the street lamps, which suddenly seemed to be on every corner, began to flicker brightly, signaling their location to the soldiers chasing them.

  “This is ridiculous,” Josef shouted, parrying a flying butcher knife as they ran past an open kitchen window. He had both his swords out now, with the Fenzetti blade tied across his back. Nico was right behind him, batting roofing tiles, cutlery, and snaking clotheslines out of the air with the whiplike sleeves of her black coat. The awakened fabric moved with her like a living thing, growing and shifting its size to fit her needs. Eli would have been mightily impressed if he’d had the chance to watch, but he was crouched between Josef and Nico, shielding his head with his hands and stomping on the rattling paving stones whenever he could. Monpress jogged quietly behind them, seemingly immune to the onslaught.

  “Eli,” Josef grunted as he chopped a flying rake in half, “what are we dealing with here? Is it another wizard, like the one in the citadel? An army of them?”

  “Nothing so simple,” Eli said. “No one’s giving orders. The spirits are just going crazy.” He grimaced. “They’re going on about taking me alive for the duke and all the things he’s going to do to me. It’s fairly disturbing, actually.”

  “Well, you’re a wizard too,” Josef shouted. “Do something!”

  “I can’t!” Eli snapped back. “The spirits here won’t talk to me, remember? Anyway, they’re so worked up I’d have to Enslave them just to get their attention. They keep shouting, ‘For the glory of Gaol’ and ‘For the duke.’ ”

  “So the duke’s the wizard in charge?” Josef said, kicking over a beam before it fell on them.

  “Either that or he’s got the best propaganda program ever,” Eli said. “Anyway, that still doesn’t explain how he got the whole city to spontaneously awaken. It’s actually kind of amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Save the praise,” Josef said, cursing when the alley they’d been running down suddenly let out into a large square. Without missing a beat, Josef changed direction midstride, kicking a door that tried to open in his face so hard it fell off its hinges. “We need to get out of here now.”

  “Might I suggest we head north, then?” the elder Monpress said.

  Josef whirled to look at him. The older man smiled patiently, jogging along to keep pace. “I have an emergency exit prepared,” he explained. “It should still be open.”

  “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Eli said, exasperated.

  “You always get upset when I try to help,” the older thief pointed out. “You can’t also get upset when I don’t.”

  Eli opened his mouth to say something stinging, but Josef shut him up with an elbow in the ribs. “Save it,” the swordsman growled, and then nodded to Monpress. “Lead on.”

  The thief smiled and took the lead, turning them down a breezeway between two houses. With Monpress leading, their journey was far less hectic. The man knew the city like the back of his hand, and every time their way seemed blocked, he found another path. In this way they reached the northern wall with comparatively little fuss. Getting past it, however, was another matter entirely.

  “Oh, dear,” Monpress said.

  The city wall, which had been a thick wall of average height when they first entered the city, was now almost fifty feet tall. Even worse, the once simple, straight stones were stretched at almost impossible angles so that the wall was now much wider at the top than it was at the bottom, creating a curving slope that would have had them almost upside down if they tried to climb it. It was also covered in knife-sharp spikes that twitched as they watched, ready to spear any climbers.

  “So,” Eli said. “Where’s your exit?”

  “There.” The older Monpress pointed at a squarish stone about thirty feet off the ground above them. “Of course, it was much lower before.”

  “Of course,” Josef said, lowering his swords.

  “Well,” Eli said, looking at Josef, “if it’s that tall, it can’t be that thick. Can’t you just break it down?”

  “Sure,” Josef said, “if I had the Heart, which I don’t because someone said don’t bring it.”

  Eli ignored the comment and looked at Nico. “Want to give it a punch?”

  Nico shrugged and walked up to the wall. She stared at the stones for a few moments, and then, pulling her fist back as far as it would go, she punched the wall with all her might. A great cracking sound echoed through the town, and Nico spun back, gripping her fingers. The wall, however, stood firm. The spot where she’d hit was slightly dented, but otherwise whole.

  “No use,” Nico said, shaking her hand furiously. “The spirits are standing strong. Whatever convinced them to stand up straight also convinced them to hold tight.”

  Josef sneered at the stones. “I bet the Heart could still break it.”

  “I’m sure,” Eli said, putting his hands on his hips. “But as you said, we don’t exactly have it handy.” He glared up at the wall. “Nice and trapped, aren’t we? And the final blow should be showing up any moment.” He nodded toward the lamp at the end of their alley, which was blinking like mad.

  “Surely you’ve got some clever plan,” Josef said, sheathing his swords.

  “I’m working on it,” the thief muttered.

  “You may want to work faster,” Nico said, feeling the ground. “If you believe the paving stones, we’ll have soldiers here in less than a minute.”

  Eli frowned, glaring at the blinking lamp, then down at the paving stones, and then back to the lamp. Finally, he shook his head.

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll try this.” He turned to the elder Monpress. “You’ve always got at least three safe houses. Do you think you have one that isn’t compromised yet?”

  “One, maybe,” Monpress answered. “It won’t stand up t
o a serious search, though.”

  “That’s all right,” Eli said. “It doesn’t need to. Here’s what we’ll do. All of this noise is to catch me, right? So we’ll split up. You three will go for the safe house.”

  Josef scowled. “And what will you do?”

  Eli looked at him plainly. “I’m going to turn myself in.”

  Stunned silence was his answer. Josef was the first to recover.

  “Are you crazy?” he shouted. “I don’t know about wizard stuff, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be any doors to charm this time, Eli. If the duke was good enough to trap us like this, he’s certainly good enough to keep you in chains.”

  “Don’t worry,” Eli said. “Even without the spirits, I’m Eli Monpress. There isn’t a prison in the world that can hold me.” He winked at the elder Monpress as he said this, but the old thief just rolled his eyes.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I’ll break out and meet you at the safe house. Whatever the duke did to wake up the town, he can’t keep it up forever or he would have done it the second he saw me, back at the treasury. I don’t actually know how he managed this, but simple spirits need a huge amount of energy to stay awake, which I doubt the duke can provide indefinitely. The town will have to go back to sleep sooner or later, and that’s when we’ll run. Sound good?”

  “No,” Josef grumbled, “but I’ll take it.” He glared at Eli as he walked away. “Don’t get yourself killed, idiot.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement,” Eli called back, but the others were already jogging down the alley away from him.

  Smiling, Eli began to jog the other way.

  He ran along the wall, waving at each light as it lit up when he passed. The little alley he was on widened into a street as he reached his chosen destination, the city’s northern gate. Sure enough, as he’d guessed, there was a small knot of conscript guards, half a dozen at least, standing at attention before the closed doors. They were rough-looking boys mostly, farmers’ sons, Eli guessed, and all gripping their swords like fire pokers as they stared wide-eyed at the twisting, awakened city.

  Moving silently along the wall, Eli snuck up behind the smallest boy and, after adjusting his clothes and smoothing back his hair, Eli tapped the young conscript on the shoulder. The boy jumped two feet with a deafening yelp, dropping his sword. The other guards held together more admirably, whirling to face Eli with their swords drawn. Eli, surrounded on all sides, leaned back against the gate and raised his hands with a charming smile.