The Legend of Eli Monpress(343)

Slorn’s bear eyes widened, and he looked at the stove. “What do you think?”

The stove made a scornful sound. “I’ve never met a fire I couldn’t contain,” it said, opening its grate wider. “Give him to me.”

Miranda blinked in surprise, first that the grate was awake, and second that it was so confident. She slipped Kirik’s ring from her finger and placed it with the wood in the stove’s belly. The second her hand was clear, the stove snapped shut and a blast of hot air hit her face as the fire crackled to life. A surge of relief radiated up Kirik’s connection, and Miranda felt like sobbing with relief herself.

Across the table, Slorn’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “My stove is very good with fires,” he said. “An hour and your Kirik should be good as new.” He reached overhead, taking a shiny copper kettle from a hook on the ceiling. “It would be a shame to waste the heat; may I offer you some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Miranda said, still shaking.

Slorn got up and walked over to the water barrel, holding the kettle crooked as the water arced up the spout of its own accord. Impressed as she would have been, Miranda saw none of it. Her eyes were locked on the roaring blaze behind the stove’s grate as a great lump of guilt rose up in her throat. She hadn’t realized how close she’d come to losing Kirik. Her thoughts went to Gin outside; Gin, who’d run all night for her. Her mind flashed back to the night before, to Gin retreating, blood dripping from his muzzle as he glared at Sted. Was he really all right, or had she been too blind in her pursuit to see? What had she been thinking, fighting a demonseed? She should have tossed Monpress at his head rather than risk her spirits. Miranda clenched her fists. She was becoming as obsessed with him as everyone else seemed to be. What must Slorn think of her, a Spiritualist who nearly killed her fire for a thief? What would Master Banage say?

She jumped as Slorn placed two steaming mugs on the table and looked up to find him staring at her, his dark eyes almost human in the glow from the stove.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “It’s a strong spirit’s deepest nature to fight a demon and save the weaker ones from the panic. That you were able to pull the fire back before it was devoured is a sign of the deep bond of trust between you.”

Miranda gaped at him. “How did you know?”

“What?” Slorn said. “About the demonseed? What else could do that to a spirit? Also, I’ve been keeping an eye on Izo’s camp for some time.” His voice deepened into a growl. “There’s a man there I have unfinished business with.”

Miranda swallowed, suddenly very aware of Slorn’s massive jaw full of sharp, yellow teeth. “Is that why you wrote to Sara for help?”

“At the simplest level, yes,” Slorn said, his voice suddenly calm and smooth again. “But Sara and I have been professional colleagues long enough that I knew a simple letter wouldn’t be enough to get her to act, at least not in the immediate, large-scale way I needed her to. That’s why I made sure my daughter knew how to find Monpress, and that Sara would find out.”

“Wait,” Miranda said. “You mean that wasn’t a leak?”

“Of course not,” Slorn said. “At this point, I can afford to leave nothing to chance. I tracked Sted alone as long as I could, but as soon as it became clear he was entering Izo’s service, I knew I needed a larger pressure than I could provide myself. I needed the Council, which meant I needed Sara, and if anyone can get that woman to play her cards, it’s Eli Monpress.”

“Hold on. You’re after Sted ?” Miranda knew she was just repeating things now, but she really could not believe what she was hearing. “ Why? Demonseeds are League business. Why waste time fussing around with Sara and Eli? Five League members could clear out Izo’s entire camp in an hour. You seem to have more connections than Lord Whitefall himself, so I can’t believe you don’t have a way to contact the League.”

Slorn leaned back, his inhuman face suddenly distant, and Miranda snapped her mouth shut. She’d said too much. She gripped the handle of her mug, waiting for a rebuke, but when the bear-headed man spoke, his voice was gruff and low.

“Can I tell you a story?”

Confused, Miranda nodded.

Slorn took a deep breath. “Ten years ago, my wife, Nivel, disappeared. We were both Shapers then, wizards of the Shaper Mountain. Up there, in the snow, we are always in the shadow of the Dead Mountain. When a wizard disappears, like Nivel did, it usually means only one thing. They were taken by the mountain.”