The Spirit War: The Legend of Eli Monpress Volume 4

by Rachel Aaron

  “But that’s the game, isn’t it?” Eli said, lying still as a board beneath her. “If I ask you for help, you win.”

  The Shepherdess’s fingers froze against his skin. You’re not still on about that old thing, are you?

  “I most certainly am,” Eli said. “And so are you, which is why you haven’t just yanked me back yet. You want to win, but so do I, and I’m not one to just roll over.” He broke into a wide grin. “You’ll have to find something scarier than the Immortal Empress if you want me to come crying back to you, Benehime.”

  The Shepherdess’s face closed like a slamming door. She sat back on top of him, suddenly cold and distant. I was trying to let you keep your dignity, she said with a sneer. I should have known better. You always did enjoy throwing my kindness back in my face. But mark me, favorite, the Empress is coming and she has no love for you. I am your only hope. Try to keep that in mind the next time you decide to be rude.

  Eli didn’t answer. He just lay there, his body perfectly still against hers. The Shepherdess watched him a moment longer, and then she leaned down. I’ll be waiting, she murmured against his mouth, kissing him one last time.

  She kept her white eyes open the whole time, staring at him as her mouth crushed his. Eli stared back, not moving so much as a fraction as the burning feel of her lips grew from ticklish to nearly unbearable. Finally, with a slight smile, Benehime vanished. There was no white line, no change. She was just gone, leaving behind nothing, not even a warm spot on the bed. Eli didn’t dare move a muscle. He lay perfectly still as the seconds ticked by with painful slowness, counting them one after another until he reached a full minute. Then, like a dam breaking, he collapsed into the bed, gasping as the lingering feel of her presence faded from his body.

  Powers, he thought, rolling over as he curled into a ball, clutching his knees against his chest as he fought to get the burning feel of her off his skin. Powers, did he hate her.

  “She’s getting pushier,” Karon whispered, his rumbling voice vibrating up from Eli’s chest. “You better watch yourself. You might be the favorite, but it’s unwise to push the Lady too far.”

  Eli squeezed his eyes tighter as he tried to find the words to tell his lava spirit that not pushing wasn’t an option. Whatever she said, whatever she threatened, he couldn’t go back. Not ever. Not to her. It wasn’t just giving up his freedom, or the way she touched him whether he wanted to be touched or not. It wasn’t even the fear, or the constant feeling of walking on eggshells whenever she was around for fear of sparking her terrible temper. No, what he hated most was the feeling of being owned.

  The moment she’d decided he was her favorite, his life had stopped being his own, and from the time he’d been old enough to understand what that loss meant, what she really was, he’d been fighting to get away from her. He’d lied and conned and traded everything he had, his entire future, for the limited freedom he enjoyed now. But the slack she’d released into his leash depended on his continued ability to make it on his own. That was their wager; that was the game. The moment he admitted he couldn’t make it on his own, the moment he reached out to her for help, Benehime won, and he went back to being her plaything forever.

  “Do you think she’s serious about the Empress?” Karon said. “Osera has no hope at all if Nara’s coming this time, not unless you mean to take her yourself.”

  “I’m doing no such thing,” Eli said, opening his eyes at last. “Nara won’t come. The only thing that could get that woman to move is Benehime herself, and there’s no way the Shepherdess would start a continental war just to squeeze me into asking for help. She’s nuts, but not that nuts.”

  Karon rumbled deep in Eli’s ribs. “I don’t know what the Shepherdess is capable of anymore. She has changed very much from when I was young.”

  “And how long ago was that?” Eli asked.

  “Not as long as it should be to account for so great a change,” Karon said. “Be careful, Eli. Benehime was always a dangerous Power, but she seems to lose all sense when it comes to her love for you.”

  “No argument there,” Eli muttered. There had been times when the Shepherdess was so angry that Eli had been sure she’d kill him. Sometimes, the dark times, he’d almost hoped she would. At least then he’d be free of her. But the older he got, the more he realized that even death wasn’t an escape from Benehime. If he died, she would just catch his soul and put him back together. There was no escape from the Shepherdess’s love.

  “It has to be a bluff,” Eli muttered. “The Empire has been planning to invade Osera for decades. Now that they are, Benehime is just using the timing to try and scare me. But I’m not a stupid kid anymore, and she’s going to have to push a lot harder than that to break me.” He forced himself to smile. “It’s just another of her games, Karon. And I’m the best when it comes to playing games.”

  Karon grumbled, unconvinced, and Eli patted his chest with a confident thump, though he wasn’t really sure whom he was trying hardest to convince with such bravado, the lava spirit or himself.

  Outside, the sun was creeping over the castle walls, and Eli decided he’d better get up. He sat and stretched, running his fingers through his hair in a vain effort to remove the feeling of the Shepherdess’s hands. He was just reaching for his blond wig when he heard the soft click of the door lock. Eli moved in a flash, grabbing the wig and tossing it on his head. He fell back into his bed just in time to see a young manservant carrying a shaving tray slip through the heavy door.

  “Can I help you?” Eli said, his voice drawling in exaggerated sleepiness.

  The servant, who obviously thought he was being stealthy, jumped a foot in the air. “Good morning, sir,” he said when he’d recovered. “I am here to assist with your morning toilet.”

  “Splendid,” Eli said, sitting up. “What’s your name?”

  The servant shuffled. “Stefan, sir.”

  Eli stood with a groan and walked across the room. He took the young man by the shoulder with a firm hand and turned him back toward the hall. “Stefan,” he said. “Excellent. Now, when I need assistance with my morning toilet, I’ll know exactly whom to call.”

  “But, Mr. Banage,” the servant said, digging his heels into the rich carpet. “The queen ordered that we were to dress the prince and his guests for court.”

  “How lovely,” Eli said, pushing harder. “Did she also order that we were to be starved to death?”

  “No, sir!” the servant said, horrified.

  Eli flashed him a winning smile. “Well, then, since I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, why don’t you go above and beyond the call of duty and find me some breakfast before I eat one of your fancy end tables? Could you do that for me?”

  The young man frowned. “I suppose I could, sir, but—”

  “You are a prince among men, Stefan,” Eli said, giving him a final push out the door. “Of course, considering the princes I’ve met, that might not be a compliment, but it was meant in good faith.”

  The servant stumbled into the hallway. “Are you sure you do not wish my help, sir?” he said one last time. “I could ask one of the others to fetch your breakfast.”

  “I trust no one but you,” Eli said, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t let me down!” he shouted through the wood.

  If Stefan answered, Eli didn’t hear. He was already across the room, digging through his bag. He pulled the wig off his head and brushed it out with his fingers before placing it on the washstand. Using hot water from the shaving tray, he washed his face and then wet his real hair, combing it back slick before pressing it dry with one of the hot towels. Next, he picked his shirt and breeches from last night up off the floor and, as they were far and away the nicest clothes he had, put them back on. When he was dressed and his hair was mostly dry, he pinned his wig back in place. He was adjusting the fall of the blond hair across his shoulders when he heard the lock turn again.

  Eli glanced up, expecting the servant, or at least a breakfast tray.
Instead, Josef marched into the room. The swordsman was also dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, but the fine shirt and trousers were wrinkled as though he’d slept in them. His knives, all of them, were belted on and the Heart was across his back, ready to go. For one soaring moment, Eli thought Josef had changed his mind about staying, but then he saw the pair of guards hot on Josef’s heels and a servant hovering with lather bowl and razor in hand, and his spirits dropped.

  “Have you seen Nico?” Josef said.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Eli said. “And no.”

  Josef grimaced. “I was sure she would come back, but she never did. I waited all night.” He scrubbed his hands through his short blond hair. “Something’s wrong, Eli. It’s not like her to be gone this long without a reason.”

  Eli turned back to the mirror to contemplate his position. His swordsman could be unusually insightful about some things, but he was thick as a wagon of bricks about others. There was no easy way of explaining to him that, underneath the semisentient coat, monstrous strength, and shadowy past, Nico was a girl as well as a demonseed. Her relationship with Josef might be a nebulous, nameless sort of thing, but hearing that the man she trusted more than anything in the world, the man she followed with unquestioning loyalty, was married, had been married for a year, and never even thought to mention it… well, that had to sting, and Nico didn’t exactly talk about her problems.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Eli said, glancing at Josef and then pointedly flicking his eyes to the guards and the servant hovering behind him.

  That, at least, Josef got. “Get out,” he growled.

  “But, my lord,” said the guard at his left. “Your lady mother was very specific—”

  “Where do you think I’m going to run?” Josef said. “This cell is the same as the one you just let me out of. I need to talk to my friend in private, so shove off. Now.”

  The guards backed off as one, bowing their way out the door. The servant, however, stayed, heated towel ready. Josef stared at him a moment, and then grabbed the man’s shoulder. The servant made a sort of squeaking sound as Josef shoved him into the hall, closing the heavy door in his face.

  “I can see why you had problems being a prince,” Eli said, leaning on the washstand. “Not exactly the genteel epitome of magnanimity and tact, are you?”

  “Shut up,” Josef said, but there was no venom in it. He walked across the room and sat down on Eli’s bed, putting his head in his hands with a deep breath. “I can’t believe she’d leave without telling me.”

  “She didn’t leave, Josef,” Eli said with a long sigh. “She probably just needs some time to work things through. It’s been a pretty dramatic week.”

  “But she’s never done that before,” Josef said. “Vanished like that, in front of everyone.” He glanced up. “You’re the wizard. You would have heard if something happened to her, right? With the demon?”

  Eli watched the swordsman with new interest. This wasn’t just bullheaded tactlessness. Josef was really worried. It was rather touching, actually.

  “The whole castle would have heard if something had happened between Nico and her demon,” he said gently. “The fact that we were able to sleep last night is proof that she’s fine. She’s probably hiding somewhere, waiting for us to follow the plan and get out. My biggest worry is how we’re going to let her know the plan’s toast. Assuming, of course, you haven’t changed your mind since last night.”

  “No,” Josef said, shaking his head. “I can’t leave. I told you that.”

  “So you did,” Eli said, exasperated. “But you couldn’t have picked a worse place to have this fit of conscience. We’re wanted criminals, remember? The longer we stay, the more likely it is that someone’s going to put the pieces together and come after us, if they haven’t already. Staying doesn’t help anyone—not us, not Nico, and not your mother. You did your duty by showing up, so let’s cut our losses, find Nico, and get out of here before things get worse.”

  Eli finished with a sinking feeling. Josef’s head was down, his hands clasped behind his neck. When he spoke at last, his voice was very calm and very, very serious.

  “Eli,” he said. “I’m only going to say this once.” He looked up, and his eyes were the eyes of a swordsman who has bet his life on his next stroke. “I may be in disgrace, but Queen Theresa is still my queen, and she’s still my mother. I let her down before, and if staying here long enough to give her an heir is all she wants from me to make things right, then that’s what I’m going to do. End of discussion.”

  Eli loomed over him, his mouth pressed in a tight, flat line. Josef glared right back, hands on his swords. Finally, Eli’s shoulders slumped, and he flopped back against the washstand with an enormous huff.

  “All right, all right,” he said. “You win. When are you going to tell the queen your decision?”

  “Right now,” Josef said, standing up. “And you’re coming with me.”

  “Wait,” Eli said, holding up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. Unless you’re planning to steal that lovely set of antique tapestries she has above her fireplace, I don’t have anything to do with this. For the next few weeks at least, you’re the crown prince of Osera. I’m still the most wanted criminal in the Council. I don’t care how forgiving your dear mother is, it’s not exactly a winning match. Actually, it would probably be better for all involved if I lit out for a while. Go steal something and get my mind off things until you’re done being a good husband.”

  Josef shook his head. “You have to be here.”

  “Why?” Eli said, truly mystified.

  Josef looked away. Eli pursed his lips thoughtfully. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said the swordsman looked sheepish.

  “Being prince means I have to go to court,” Josef said at last. “Court means politics and a lot of talking to people who can’t be insulted. I’m not really—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “You’re the one who’s good with that kind of thing, all right? You have to stay.”

  “Josef,” Eli said with a growing smile. “Could it be? Are you asking me for help?”

  Josef glowered at him. “Not if you’re going to say it like that.”

  “No, no, no,” Eli said, placing his hands on his chest. “I’m flattered. I would be delighted to be your adviser.”

  “Good,” Josef said, nodding. “That’s settled, then.”

  “Of course,” Eli added, raising one long finger. “You’d have to say what I told you to say, exactly as I told you to say it.”

  Josef grimaced, and Eli shook his head. “That’s the only way it works. You can tell me to stay all you want, but if you’re not going to listen to my advice, I’m not going to waste my breath giving it.”

  “Fine,” Josef grumbled. “Just don’t get carried away.”

  Eli flipped the edges of his golden wig. “When have I ever gotten carried away?”

  Josef rolled his eyes and didn’t answer.

  “Now,” Eli said. “Let’s get started. Normally, I’d say we should put off seeing the queen. Let her sweat a bit. However, seeing as she’s your mother, sweating would probably only make her more stubborn, so we’re going to go see her immediately. When we arrive, you’re going to tell her that you’re staying and doing your part as a dutiful prince, but only if you get to keep your friends with you, and as soon as a pregnancy is confirmed, you’re leaving. Also, you want full freedom of movement and all royal privileges for you and your entourage, meaning myself and Nico.” He shot Josef a smile. “No reason we can’t have a little fun while we’re stuck here. Does that sound fair?”

  Josef rubbed his chin. “I guess it does.”

  “Excellent,” Eli said. “I’ll need a full rundown on Osera’s political situation before we do any more politicking than that, but hopefully we won’t have to. If war’s truly coming, Osera has bigger problems than us. All we need to do is keep our noses down, keep you in bed with your wife, and we’ll be out of here in two months. Tops.”


  Josef winced. “I’m not a stud bull, you know.”

  “You are now,” Eli said cheerfully, walking to the door. He opened it to find Josef’s guards, his overzealous manservant, and Eli’s own Stefan (now with a breakfast trolley instead of the shaving tray) standing in the hallway, whispering together. They all jumped when they saw Eli, but came when he beckoned, tiptoeing into the room as meekly as they could.

  “So sorry about earlier,” Eli said, clapping Josef’s servant on the shoulders. “The prince had a bit of a bad night, but food will set everything to rights. Now,” he said, pushing the man toward Josef, “if you would be so kind as to make your prince presentable, we’ll see the queen as soon as she’s ready.”

  Both servants cheered up immensely once they were free to do their jobs. Eli stepped aside to let Josef sit down at the washstand as both servants moved in and began cleaning him up. The swordsman sat glumly, letting them lather his chin and comb his hair. Meanwhile, Eli helped himself to a cup of tea, a plate of ham, and several scones from the breakfast tray before flopping down on the bed to watch the show. When Stefan asked if he would like a shave as well, Eli politely declined.

  “It took me weeks to grow what I have,” he said, rubbing his fingers over the sparse beard on his chin. “I’m not quite ready to sacrifice it yet. Besides,” he nodded at Josef, who was gripping his swords as the manservant deftly ran the razor over his taut neck. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  Josef shot Eli a murderous look. Eli answered with a wide smile as he shoved another slice of ham into his mouth.

  When he was shaved and clean, Josef sent the servants running with a growl before joining Eli at the breakfast tray. He ate five slabs of ham in rapid succession and then stepped away.

  “Let’s go,” he said, wiping his hands on the shaving towels.