"I don't want to change Oeble," said Aeron, "except for erasing you from the middle of it."
"If you do want to make things different," said Kesk, still directing his words to the ranger, "you can't do it by killing me. Every city has somebody like me, and if you dispose of him, another just as bad pops up to take his place. The only chance to put Oeble on another path is for Master Heldeion's scheme to succeed."
"I told you," Aeron said, "I like Oeble fine the way it is."
"So does the wizard," Kesk replied. "He just wants to run it is all. In time, he will. He's clever and patient. He makes plans that take years to work themselves out. He's the one who sabotaged Master Heldeion's trading ventures and ran him into debt without Heldeion even understanding why everything was going wrong."
"Why did he bother?" the ranger asked.
"Dorn Heldeion has too much influence," said Kesk, clenching himself against another surge of pain. "When the magician has the Faceless Master assassinated, he wants to look like the only reasonable candidate to take over the job. That means ruining any potential rivals in advance. Though if Heldeion's gamble pays off, if he gets his hands on The Black Bouquet, he won't really be ruined. The coin-lenders will be happy to keep him afloat, knowing that in a couple years, the secrets in the book will rebuild his fortune many times over. So the wizard had to try to keep it away from him."
"He failed," Aeron said.
"At that scheme, yes," said Kesk, "but if you let him go free, he'll simply start over with a new one."
"He must be a prominent member of the Council of Nine himself," said the guide. "It would be useless to accuse him without evidence, or at least a witness more reputable than the leader of the Red Axes."
"I can tell you where to look for proof," said Kesk. "I can give you the name of the spy in Heldeion's house. Squeeze him, and he's bound to sell out the wizard to save his own skin."
Aeron sneered and said, "Just like you."
"The coward betrayed me first," said Kesk, glaring back at the thief. "He ran out on me."
"As you betrayed Kerridi, Gavath, Dal, and me," Aeron replied. "And you know what, Pigface? I'm tired of hearing you oink."
Aeron extended his arms straighter. A blue spark popped on one of his knuckles, and the smell of ozone filled the air. Kesk held himself steady. They could kill him, but they'd never see him cringe.
"Aeron," the ranger said, her voice troubled.
"No," he said.
"If he's right, if we do need his help to give this sordid place a chance at a decent way of living…"
"Are you both deaf?" Aeron spat "I said, I don't care about that. He tortured my father. He killed my friends."
"I killed your friends," said the ranger.
"I blame him, not you. Anyway, I don't dare let the vengeful bastard live. Father and I would never be safe."
"I vow by the War Maker," said Kesk, "that I won't come after either of you."
"Liar," Aeron said.
The ranger reached as if to take her companion by the arm, then, to Kesk's disgust, thought better of it.
"All right," she sighed, "I won't argue any further. It's your right to kill him if you want. In your place, I'd probably do the same thing."
"Of course you would." Aeron glared down the length of his leveled arms until Kesk's nerves positively screamed with the waiting, then made a sour face, lowered his hands, and said, "Damn you, Miri, why did you have to prattle at me? Now I can't do it, and I don't even know why. Maybe I'm just sick of killing."
Kesk felt lightheaded with relief. With nothing to lose by trying, he'd argued for his life, but had never actually expected his foes to heed him.
Most likely the scout would never have cause to regret it. She'd vanish into the wilderness, never to return. Aeron, however, was a different matter. When the time was right, Kesk would avenge this humiliation on the lone-wolf rogue and his father, too. Surely offering up a pair of human hearts would appease the War Maker for a false oath sworn in his name.
CHAPTER 19
Miri was aching and bone-weary by the time she and Aeron reached the riverfront. Despite her rudimentary training in the mystic arts, she didn't truly understand how Sefris's bolts of darkness could cause genuine harm without breaking the skin, but it was obvious they had. Otherwise, she wouldn't feel so punchy and weak.
It didn't matter. The fighting was over, and the long search, nearly so. In another hour, she'd deliver The Black Bouquet to Master Heldeion, then she could return to Ilmater's house for healing and the use of a bed.
With his wounded arm and head, Aeron would benefit from the priests' attentions as well. She turned to tell him so, then gaped in horror. The rogue was no longer walking at her side.
She spun around. Except for herself, the narrow, trash-choked alley, foul with the stink of rotting fish and produce, was deserted. Aeron hadn't simply lagged a step or two behind. Somehow, he'd slipped away.
She cursed herself for a dunce. Once Nicos was safe, and Sefris dead, she should have known better than to take her eyes off Aeron for so much as an instant. But it was her nature to trust a comrade with whom she'd faced so much peril, and thanks to that gullibility, she'd probably lost the formulary forever.
She snatched an arrow from her quiver to hold ready in her hand, then started to run back the way they'd come. She knew how unlikely it was that she'd spot the liar skulking through the dark, but she had to try.
He called out to her, "Hold on."
She whirled back around, and Aeron stepped from the shadows.
"I'm right here," he said, "and so is this." He hefted a heavy, black-bound volume. "I kept it behind some loose bricks in a wall down thataway."
She peered at him quizzically and asked, "If you meant to give it to me, why did you disappear?"
"I don't know," he said with a smile. "A joke? Maybe I wanted you to know I'm turning it over because I want to, not because I'm afraid of your bow and sword. That I do keep my promises to the right people."
He placed the book in her hands.
When she opened the cover, a sweet scent wafted up. Holding the book close to her face, squinting against the gloom, she was just able to make out Courynn Dulsaer's handwriting. It was the real Bouquet, not simply another decoy. Aeron chuckled to see her check the book.
"I said you were learning to think like one of us Oeblar," he said.
"Thank you," she replied. "For the Bouquet, not that remark. It's still an insult."
He smiled a crooked smile and said, "From that retort, I take it you're still eager to go back to the woods. I'll miss you… at least a little."
It seemed the perfect opening for Miri to propose the notion she'd been mulling over.
"You don't have to," she said. "You could come along. I'd sponsor you for membership in the Red Hart Guild, and train you, too."
"Now you're playing a joke on me."
"No. I've seen the better side of your nature, and you're too good a man to live out your days as a sneak thief in this wretched place."
"This wretched place is about to reform, or so I'm told."
"Over the course of years, maybe, if everything goes according to Master Heldeion's plan," Miri replied. "I'm offering you the certainty of a new life, a useful, honorable one, right here and now."
"I can't abandon my father."
"He can come, too. The guild provides a home for those of our kin who can't take care of themselves."