Bargain

by Riley S. Keene

  “What?” he asked, the smile clear in his voice.

  “Somehow this is your fault after the mess in Khule.”

  “I mean, I have to admit, I don’t hate the idea.” He leaned forward to look over the map before addressing Merylle. “You will want the three of us with you in the dome. Even if we didn’t all need to be together for what we need to accomplish in there, you won’t win a fight out without all of us.”

  “Of course,” Merylle said, looking over each of them in turn. “The three of you have proved quite competent, and I’d rather have you with me than against me. With your skill and my information, I feel like my revenge is within reach.”

  “Good.” Elise clapped her hands together, rubbing the palms against one another. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to confer with my friends for a moment.” She gestured to Athala and Ermolt. “We have some matters to discuss, but then I believe we could negotiate a partnership.”

  “Ah, of—of course,” Merylle said, confusion rolling across her expression. She stood from the table, momentarily unsure of herself. Elise grinned triumphantly. The woman had been so in control this entire time, and it was obvious she hadn’t been expecting them to discuss things without her.

  But of course, Merylle recovered quickly. “I need to get my people working on a more comprehensive plan as it is. We still need to deal with the High Priest’s office, and don’t forget that getting to the second floor is not a simple affair, either.” She made her way to the door across the room from where they’d entered. “Just call for someone if you need anything else.”

  The door shut and Elise lifted a hand to her friends. “A warning to you both—don’t underestimate that woman. She likely still has ears in this room, so let’s keep our discussion on topic.” She gave Ermolt and Athala both a meaningful look. “Stick to the plans we need to get there, and avoid talking about anything that isn’t the Overseers’ business.” She didn’t want to give away their position. Merylle knew they were interested in Sirur, but she didn’t need to know to what extent.

  “Alright,” Ermolt said, furrowing his brow. After a moment, his eyes widened. “Oh! Right.” He gave her a conspiratorial smile.

  “It might be true that she’ll want all three of us with her when she leaves the dome, to deal with the Temple Guard. But anything we can do to incentivize her to keep us all there and together is preferable. If we’re all up there, we can get done what we need to do. I have no qualms about helping Merylle get the treasures she feels Teis owes her.”

  “I can understand her pain,” Athala said, still looking down at the maps spread across the table. “If this is what she needs to put her mind to rest, it doesn’t bother me.”

  “Right. I would hesitate to help someone steal a memento from another human in response to such a slight.” Ermolt shrugged with open hands. “But to steal from a God? For revenge? That takes a special kind of person. I can respect that.”

  Elise considered for a moment. Their encounter with the Overseers had gone swimmingly, and it made her nervous. Why was Merylle helping them? They had barged in, thrown their weight—and magic—around, and now Merylle was using her carefully-crafted revenge plan to help them get to Sirur? Perhaps it was just Elise’s experience to distrust beautiful women who were more help than they were trouble, but it seemed too perfect.

  And then there was the woman’s lack of surprise of their interest and knowledge. Had news spread of Meodryt’s return? Did Merylle think they were going to free her God’s dragon? Or was she the type to just expect amazing things out of those who bested her?

  “Athala,” Elise said at last. “Work with the Overseers on whatever their plan is. You’ve got the widest breadth of knowledge of the three of us, so you’re more likely to be able to help them.” She frowned and gripped the wizard’s shoulder. “And I would love to have one of us at the table for that in case they are planning any sort of double-cross.”

  “Right,” Athala said. It was clear she was suppressing a shudder, and Elise found herself smiling once more. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

  “Ermolt and I will work with the rank-and-file Overseers. We can provide some training to help them be of more use than fodder when it comes to a fight, and maybe, if we can, establish a friendly relationship with a few of them. If there’s a double-cross we can’t see, I like our odds better if someone likes us enough to warn us about it beforehand. Or at least feel bad enough about it to hesitate before the knife hits our backs.”

  “A good bit of sparring might do us good, too,” the barbarian said as he rolled his shoulder. “It’s been almost a month since I had a good workout and tonight’s escapades have highlighted that. Perhaps if I’d been a little more warmed-up, I wouldn’t have been captured in the first place.”

  “Ah, but then we wouldn’t have this alliance,” Elise said, giving him a warm smile. “A fight won is not always a victory. I think we have a lot to gain here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Once they’d met back up with Merylle, the Overseer offered them to stay the night. Athala had balked but Elise readily accepted. The Conscript’s argument had been that it was well after last bell, and so the tavern’s front door would be closed to them anyway. They could fetch their belongings later if they needed, but for now a warm, secure place to sleep would be a blessing.

  Athala thought it sounded like an excuse, but she was also exhausted. The day had been one long stretch of work—mental, physical, and magical—and even curling up in the corner and sleeping until someone inevitably stabbed her in the back sounded great.

  The room they were given was at the far end of the hall away from Merylle’s office by the stairwell. It was a small room, obviously meant for one or two guests, but the Overseers had done a good job of making it as comfortable as possible.

  Athala slept dreamlessly for the first night in ages.

  The next morning was a busy day indeed. Athala and her companions were invited to breakfast in the mess hall on the first floor, and then Athala was even given the opportunity to bathe before being carted off to Merylle’s office. She took the opportunity and enjoyed it as much as she could, soaking her weary body in near scalding water until long after it had cooled.

  When Athala was finally brought to Merylle’s office, it was nearly eleventh bell.

  The room was much the same as they had left it the night before. Maps and scrolls were scattered around the table, layered over one another in disarray that made sense to someone. But today there were also books and scrolls for note-taking, and a fresh teapot and bins of crackers.

  Athala opened the door and was surprised to see two people she recognized, and one she didn’t. Merylle and the Guard Captain from the night before sat in close to a man who was bordering on elderly. His hair was completely white with tight curls that stood out from his head in nearly all directions. His skin was almost the perfect dark brown of a Lublis noble who could trace their lineage back through many generations of the southern kingdoms. Athala’s own skin looked pale in comparison.

  Merylle stood quickly and helped usher Athala into the room. The Overseer was dressed in much the same outfit as the night before, although her shirt was an olive green that made her skin look fantastic.

  “Athala,” Merylle said as they reached the two men who were struggling to their feet. “These are my trusted advisors—you’ve met Commander Hartmut before.” She gestured to the familiar man from the night before. He looked slightly different without a barbarian pinning him to the floor. “Hartmut oversees the training and scheduling for my thieves, and with your friends helping us with that for now, he actually has the time to be here and provide some input into our planning.”

  “Commander.” Athala gave a polite curtsy with her skirts.

  “I consider myself more of a micromanager than a commander,” the man said before giving a clipped bow. Athala was struck by how stiff the bow was, and how much such a simple motion aged him. He looked to have seen no more than
thirty summers, but his joints were as rigid as someone who’d seen sixty. When he stood, Athala could see lines along his face that were faint but old. “But I do appreciate the gesture. It’s been a long time since a pretty lady curtsied to me instead of throwing a weapon at my head.” He smiled wide, winking at Merylle.

  “And this,” Merylle said, gesturing to the other man as she obviously ignored Hartmut, “is my magical advisor. Anton has worked for the Overseers for an entire generation, and his unique talents have made many of our more famous exploits in Jalova possible.”

  “Anton Volmer,” the old man said with a bow and a flourish. He was much obviously the older man, but he moved with a fluidity that spoke of perfect health and a lack of repetitive drills. “Wizard, scientist, and experimentalist. At your service.” He gave her a crooked smile beneath his thin white mustache. Athala found herself smiling back. This was a man who enjoyed life, and he reminded her much of her father before his untimely passing.

  “I’m always happy to meet a fellow wizard,” Athala said finally, remembering her manners. She gave another curtsy before moving to the table. Merylle poured Athala fresh cup of tea while she settled in. But before they could get down to business, Athala turned to Anton. “I’m curious—what is your area of expertise? I feel like I could learn much from someone with as much field experience as you must have.”

  “Ah, a fellow researcher!” Anton’s hazel eyes lit up. Athala felt homesick. “I’m sure Merylle wouldn’t want us holding up things here too much, so perhaps later I could share some of my notes with you. You wouldn’t happen to have an interest in alchemy, would you?”

  “Absolutely I do!” Athala said, trying to keep from looking too shocked. From the smirk Merylle was giving her, it might not have worked. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself properly. I’m Athala Dohn, Wizard of Khule, of the Lublis Dohns.”

  “Oh my!” Anton brought a hand forcefully up to his mouth. Hartmut looked between the two of them, obviously confused, while Merylle stared hard at Athala. “My word! Forget I even asked! I’m so sorry Madam Dohn. I didn’t realize who I was talking to.” He made a disappointed noise. “I may as well have asked your barbarian friend if he’s ever heard of snow!”

  “No apology is necessary,” Athala said, feeling her face turn red. “You can’t have known. But I can assume you’re practiced in more traditional alchemy than what I’m used to, right?”

  “If what I’ve heard of your family’s work is true, then you are correct.” Anton clapped his hands together, his mischievous smile returning. “But I feel like that just means we have so much more we could learn from each other. Is it true you aren’t even using powdered variscite in your healing potions now?”

  “My grandfather’s work,” Athala confirmed with a nod. “I sometimes forget that his recipe was a trade secret for fifty-some years.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “You know, my father spent the last half of his life trying to get the crushed Kaala Jeera out of them, too. He was really on to something for a while, too.”

  “Was he?” Anton leaned in close, his fluffy white eyebrows twisted with curiosity. “What was he using instead? I don’t know what I would try first, let alone what would work.”

  “Bishops weed,” Athala said with a big grin. “Can you believe it? Something so common to substitute for Kaala Jeera? Healing potions are our biggest seller, and we could replace a fifth of the cost by yanking weeds out of the city gutters instead.”

  “No!” The older wizard clapped his hands together. “You’re messing with me. How would that even work?”

  “If you think that’s hard to figure out, remember that we do it all without incantations.”

  “My Gods!” Anton put a hand to his temple. He looked dizzy. “I can’t even imagine.”

  Athala’s laughter dried up when she saw Merylle glaring from the corner of her eye. The woman had her arms crossed over her chest and there was frustration rolling off her person in a way that Athala recognized from Elise. “Any time you two are ready,” she said through clenched teeth. “We have a lot of details to iron out here.”

  “Right! Yes. Of course,” Anton said quickly, almost jumping at the reminder that there were other people in the room. “We can talk more later.” He veritably scrambled back onto his cushion, flashing Merylle an apologetic smile.

  “Please.” Merylle gestured at a seat, and Athala took her place at the table. “Thank you.”

  “There are three main challenges in this mission,” Hartmut said, leaning over the table to tap three places on the map. “Getting in, getting the hidden door open—not to mention getting it to stay open—and finally, getting out again.” He settled back onto his cushion and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “I don’t like the idea of sending our men into such severe danger. No offense, Merylle, but I wouldn’t like my own odds of survival if I went with you, even with the wizard and her friends at my side.”

  “Of course.” Merylle nodded. She didn’t seem to mind so much. “I would prefer to have our people handle the entrance, then. The skirmish we had planned already is a good enough plan for that.” She gestured to Athala with a roll of her wrist. “That was the core of their plan already, to strike when the Conscripts responded to our distraction. And it’s a sound idea to put as many of our thieves there as we can. If we commit to it with more of our forces, they’ll think there won’t be any other threats.” She shifted her attention to the map of the dome, and tapped on the hidden entrance. “And I think the escape is the best time to use Anton’s resources.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Anton asked, leaning over the map with a squint. “The usual? Or maybe something a little spicier?”

  “No,” Merylle said firmly. “Spicy won’t be necessary.” She tapped the wall of the dome. “We honestly don’t know what would happen if we tried to blast our way out. It might take the whole temple down on our heads for all we know. The challenge here is going to be that the guards will probably be assembled below and waiting to butcher us as we make our escape.” She tapped instead on where the entrance was that dropped down into the second floor. “I want to give them a gift from you before we engage them.”

  “Ah, something in a more anti-personnel flavor, then.” He rubbed his hands together and squinted at the map for a moment. “If you think a fight is inevitable, I could make it something enervating, to make it an easy fight. But if you’re just trying to get out, a flashbang might be all you need to make a run of it.”

  “I anticipate facing some serious trouble,” Merylle said in a flat tone. Athala looked up at the Overseer, but her expression was unreadable. “I think we need you to do your worst.”

  “Of course! The knockout bomb.” Anton nodded. “I don’t have all the materials for it right now, but I should be able to get them easy enough.”

  “Knockout bomb?” Athala asked. She looked between Anton and Merylle. Hartmut seemed to be more interested in shaking his head and focusing on the entrance to the Temple.

  “Yes, it’s one of my specialties,” Anton explained, leaning towards Athala. “In the simplest terms, it’s a modified sleeping potion wrapped around an explosive. The detonation releases the potion into the air, and the modifications I make to the potion make it an inhalant.”

  “What an interesting idea. And that works?”

  “Usually!” Anton smiled widely at her before turning back to Merylle. “I should be able to put one together without too much fuss. Just a quick trip to an apothecary.”

  “Let me handle that,” Merylle said. “I don’t want them to know what we’re up to until it drops into their midst. Get me a list of what you need, and I’ll go through less visible channels for it.”

  “So that’s the start and the end,” Hartmut said, leaning his elbows on the table once more. “But we don’t have an answer for the middle. How are we handling the matter of the switch?”

  “That’s why I wanted to get the beginning and ending sorted out.” Merylle said.
“There’s no easy solution, and the more time we have to brainstorm, the better. Now.” She grabbed one of the open empty books from the table and a bit of charcoal. “What ideas do we have?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ermolt looked over the thieves that made up the Overseers guild. They had all collected in the side courtyard once breakfast had been served. He had expected more of them.

  Hartmut had warned them that most of the guild’s strength was in the loyalties of the locals rather than in numbers. But Ermolt was still disappointed.

  There were barely thirty thieves present. It was a decent number for a guild, to be sure, but not when your opposition was the Temple and their scores of Priests, Clerics, and Temple Guards, not to mention usually at least a hundred Conscripts. And one God. Possibly a dragon.

  Thirty fighters didn’t seem like favorable odds.

  Ermolt hung back as part of the agreement he had with Elise. Right now he leaned against the wall of the Keep, trying to be as foreboding as possible while not distracting from Elise’s orders.

  “Come on, line up!” Elise said, her tone firm. “Rows of seven. Leave a good five fen of space on all sides.”

  The Overseers started to scramble to sort themselves out. There were arguments. People pushing and falling. Without any further direction, they couldn’t effectively decide who should be standing where. Elise tapped her foot, her arms crossed over her chest, which only made those paying attention to her scramble more. After almost a quarter of a bell the group organized themselves from one loose clump to five loose clumps. They bickered incessantly over who should move to where and why.

  “Warriors!” Ermolt shouted loudly, causing every Overseer to jump. “The lady gave you an order! Get to it!”

  The group scrambled again, and in half as much time they managed to create a lopsided grid. Elise set about marching up the line, grabbing people by the shoulders and physically moving them to clean up the formation.