The Legend of Eli Monpress(341)

“To fight Josef Liechten,” Sted said simply. “I made a deal. A bad one on both sides, as it turned out, but I won’t give up until Josef Liechten is lying dead at my feet. He’s the only man who ever truly bested me, and if I’m going to die, I’ll die undefeated.”

Eli’s eyebrows shot up. “But—”

He swallowed his words at Sted’s glare. Clearly, that was all the answer he’d be getting. Turning away from Sted’s uncomfortable, glowing gaze, Eli rolled back toward the wall. He wiggled a bit, trying to find the most comfortable angle, but it was hopeless. Finally, he gave up and flopped on his back, staring up at the low stone ceiling.

It was going to be a very long three days.

Gin crashed through the forest, panting as he jumped over fallen logs and scrambled up slopes slick with fallen leaves. Miranda hunched low on his back, doing her best to avoid looking at the lightening sky or thinking about the fact that they’d already passed that rock formation twice before. But even as she tried to keep hope alive, the ghosthound padded to a stop at the edge of a creek.

“It’s no good,” he panted. “They’re gone. Sted was too fast. I don’t even know if we’re in the right part of the mountains anymore.”

“Just a little farther,” Miranda said, clenching her hands in his fur. “We just need a hint of his scent.”

“He’s gone.” Gin snapped the words, then shook his head and lowered his tongue to the swift water, drinking deeply. “I lost him hours ago,” he said when he was finished. “We need a different plan.”

“Like what?” Miranda said, gritting her teeth. “Go back to the bandits? Wait?”

“We’re not going to find him by wandering around,” Gin snarled.

His tone stopped her cold, and Miranda leaned back. He’d been running all night; of course he was tired. They were both tired, but the idea of going back to that camp empty-handed, of letting Eli slip through her hands again…

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Gin’s neck. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lose again, not like this. But what else was there to do? Saying he couldn’t find Eli wasn’t something Gin would admit unless he was truly out of options. The forest was huge, and they didn’t even know if Sted had continued north or changed direction entirely. No, finding him in the woods would require more luck than she had. She needed to reconsider her options.

Miranda took a deep breath and forced herself to think clearly. There were only two reasons Sted would have taken Eli: the bounty or as a bargaining chip against Izo. That meant he would eventually be headed either toward Zarin or back to Izo’s camp. She discarded the bounty idea immediately. If Sted was going to Zarin, then he was already so far ahead of her there was little point in giving chase, and Eli would end up in custody whether she caught him or not. Also, whatever Sted was, he certainly didn’t seem like the type to walk into Lord Whitefall’s office and ask for a voucher. And there was that display last night. No, Sted was after Izo. She was sure of it, and that meant he’d be heading back to the camp.

Miranda grimaced. As much as the idea of going back to Sparrow empty-handed grated, she had to admit it was the best choice. Also, Josef and Nico were still at the camp. If Eli escaped from Sted, that’s where he’d go, and if Sted wanted something from Izo, that’s where he’d take the thief.

“All right, mutt,” she muttered into Gin’s fur. “Take us back to Izo’s.”

But the ghosthound didn’t answer. He was standing still as a statue below her, staring down the stream bank.

Miranda looked around. “What?”

“We’re being watched,” Gin growled low in his throat, ears going flat against his head.

Miranda pressed herself against his back, mentally nudging her rings awake. She winced when she was forced to skip over Kirik’s smoldering ember, but she couldn’t think about that now. “Is it Sted?” she whispered, slightly hopeful.

“No.” Gin was growling full tilt now. “It’s a wizard.”

Miranda was about to ask how he could be so sure when a man appeared on the bank a dozen feet downstream. Miranda didn’t see where he had come from—he seemed to just appear from the woods—but once she saw him, she could look at nothing else. There, walking toward her, was a large man with a bear’s head. She thought it was a mask until she saw the eyes staring at her, intelligent and dark above the sharp-toothed muzzle. Miranda swallowed and began to call her spirits. But even as she reached for the threads of power that tied her to her rings, the bear-headed man stopped and put up his hands.