The Legend of Eli Monpress(350)
“Actually, Miranda,” Slorn said, looking up at last. “I’ve been meaning to ask you a favor. How strong is your sea spirit?”
Miranda gave him a funny look. “Mellinor’s pretty strong. Depends on how much water is around.”
“I see,” Slorn said, nodding over her shoulder. “And do you think Mellinor could fill those?”
Miranda turned, following his gaze to the line of empty barrels around the cloth-draped shape. “Easily,” she said, turning back. “Why?”
“I’m going to need some water,” Slorn said. “I’d been meaning to talk to a local stream about it, but I’ve run out of time. I was hoping your Mellinor could oblige me.”
“Sure,” Miranda said, grinning. “What do you need us to do?”
Slorn opened his mouth, but he was cut off by a low growl from the trees.
“There’s Gin,” Miranda whispered, dropping her voice even though there was no chance of being overheard.
Slorn nodded and stood up, carefully placing the white lump of whatever it was on the wagon steps before coming over to join her. They crept back through the woods together, sliding in beside Gin, who was nearly over the cliff edge in his excitement. One look and Miranda could see why. The crowd of bandits, who’d been thick as flies over the city for the last day, were pulling away from a cloaked figure walking in from the north end of town. Even at this range, she could see Sted clearly, a head taller than anyone else, and behind him, stumbling through the dust on a rope leash like a petulant puppy, was a figure she knew even better.
“Eli Monpress,” she said, frowning. “He doesn’t look good.”
“He’s fine,” Gin growled. “Just making life hard for Sted, which is the most sensible thing I’ve seen him do.”
Miranda nodded and looked over her shoulder for Slorn, but the bear-headed man was staying back, keeping to the trees, his animal eyes large and sharp as he watched Sted drag the thief into the center of town. Down in the valley, a ragged cheer went up.
Josef stood on the arena’s edge, eyes squinting against the noonday sun as Sted strutted into the center of town. Bandits scrambled out of his way, whistling and shouting. Josef ignored them, focusing instead on the figure stumbling in Sted’s wake. Eli looked tired and disoriented, but unharmed. That was good enough for him, and Josef turned his attention to Sted. The enormous man came to a stop at the opposite side of the arena and grinned a wide, violent grin at Josef like he was the only man in the world.
“Well, Sted,” Izo’s voice boomed down from his box, “you showed up. Hand over the thief, and the swordsman will fight you on whatever terms you like.”
Izo’s words hung in the air, but Sted didn’t even seem to hear them. He stepped out onto the arena’s edge before tossing Eli’s rope in the dirt. The thief scampered away as Sted reached up and ripped the threadbare cloak from his shoulders. A great gasp went up from the crowd, and even Josef’s breath hitched. Sted’s black arm was there, same as ever, but it looked almost natural compared to his chest. The black rot no longer stopped at the shoulder, where the arm connected. It had spread down, spidering across the enormous man’s chest in long, inky tendrils. The blackness poured into his scars like tainted water, eating its way across the remnants of his tattoos.
Quick as a flash, Sparrow stepped out from behind Izo’s booth to grab Eli’s rope, jerking the thief off his feet. He twisted the rope around his hand several times before leading the thief over to the far edge of the arena where Tesset was holding Nico. Sted didn’t even seem to notice what happened to his prisoner. He stood on the arena edge, drinking in the fear and revulsion as it rolled off the crowd, grinning at Josef like a wolf that’s finally cornered the running stag.
But Josef was too distracted to be intimidated. “Powers, man,” he said in a low voice. “What have you done to yourself?”
Sted’s smile faltered a moment before it was replaced by a sneer. “Nothing like what I’m going to do to you.”
He leaped off the edge, landing on the arena’s sandy floor with a thud Josef felt through his boots. Josef cast one last look at Nico and Eli before jumping down as well. Realizing they were about to get the blood they’d come for, the bandits began to cheer, but the sound was very far away. Here in the arena, Sted took up every scrap of Josef’s attention, leaving none to spare for roaring crowds.
“I see you’re able to stand again,” Sted said, walking across the arena. “Finally found your courage, eh?”