“Your tricks may work on dull, unsuspecting spirits,” Coriano whispered, inches from Renaud’s ear, “but an awakened sword is different. Now”—the swordsman’s voice scraped against Renaud’s opened soul like a razor—“listen, and listen well. I don’t care why you took this kingdom, and I don’t care if you keep it. I don’t care what kind of wizard you are or what you’re planning here in the dark. I am here for the Heart of War, nothing else. Now, if you do exactly as I say and help me corner Josef Liechten, I can give you victory. You might even live to reap the benefits of all your years of plotting. Do we have a deal?”
Eyes bulging, Renaud held out a moment longer before nodding frantically. As fast as he’d lunged, Coriano stepped back, and Renaud sank to his knees, gasping and clutching his bruised throat.
“All right,” Coriano said, sheathing his white sword as he kept his good eye on the king. “The original bargain still stands. I will fight Josef Liechten without interference.”
Renaud glowered from the floor, still rubbing his neck. “And what would my part entail?”
“You will arrange your forces exactly as I tell you,” Coriano said, “and then we wait. Without Josef, the girl will leave and Eli will be vulnerable. You should have no trouble dealing with him then. In any event, after I have defeated the Heart of War, you’ll never have to hear from me again.”
“That would be a relief.” Renaud rubbed his throat one last time and pushed himself up, turning back to the pillar. Almost at once, his sour glare faded, and his face relaxed into a warm smile. He reached out to touch the pillar’s dull surface with his bare hands, and when his fingers brushed the stone, Coriano felt a tremor through his boots.
“How long would this plan take?”
Coriano eyed him warily. “That depends on Eli. Probably not more than a day, maybe two. Monpress moves quickly when he needs to.”
“More than enough time,” Renaud said, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from the pillar. “Follow me.”
He whirled and marched out of the treasury, shouting for his guards. Coriano shot one last glance at the strange pillar before following the king into the hall. Whatever Renaud was planning down here, Coriano had a feeling it was larger than Mellinor. He would need to keep his wits about him if he was going to face Josef before it happened. After that, Coriano smiled, Renaud could bring the whole world crashing down for all it mattered to him. Dunea sang in agreement, and Coriano gripped her hilt.
Somewhere in the darkness behind them, the pillar quaked in response.
CHAPTER 17
The morning mists hovered thick and wet over the forest. Deer, the king’s own stock, had come out to feed on the delicate new leaves sprouting in the scattered open spaces, but they shied away from the tiny clearing by the stone hut, and for good reason.
Gin lay by the door with his head on his paws, his orange eyes half open. The door to the hut creaked and a growl rumbled up from deep in the ghosthound’s chest as Josef stepped out into the gray morning with Nico close behind him.
The swordsman was shirtless, but the wide swath of bandages wrapped around his chest kept the mist off him. For the first time Gin had seen, he was unarmed save for the enormous iron sword that he held in one hand.
The swordsman and the girl walked a short distance through the forest, stopping at a spot where the trees were farther apart, not quite a clearing, but room enough for their purposes. Nico took a seat on a fallen log while Josef took up position at a wide spot between two young poplars. When he judged he had enough space, he held out his arms and, very carefully, raised his black blade. He brought it up in a slow arc until it was over his head. His shoulders tensed as the barely healed cut under his bandages stretched, but his face remained calm and serious as he brought the blade down again.
When he had lowered the point all the way to the leaf litter, Nico spoke. “Will it do?”
Josef let out a pained breath. “The stitches held,” he said. “That’ll have to be enough. It’s not like we have time to lie around.”
Nico stood up and went around to his back, adjusting the bandages to sit higher. As she reached up to get his shoulders, the wide sleeves of her enormous black coat fell away from her scrawny arms revealing the scuffed silver manacles she wore clamped tight on each wrist. A dozen feet behind them, Gin’s growl grew louder.
“What is he going on about?” Josef grunted, rolling his shoulders to test the new bandage arrangement.
“The usual,” she murmured.
Josef scowled. “I can make him stop if it’s bothering you.”