The big priest raised his right arm and patted Nix on the shoulder, the gesture sloppy, fading. "That peasant needed the coin more than us."
At first Nix did not understand Egil's point, and then he remembered the wagon driver outside of the Slick Tunnel, the silver pieces Nix had given him.
Grace, Egil had said. Alms.
"You fakking idiot. You godsdamned idiot. You're not even a real priest!"
Egil smiled, closed his eyes. "Do you think I'll see Gretta and Misa?"
Nix could not bring himself to reply. He sat over his friend, head bowed, mind racing. He had nothing left in his bag of tricks. For once, it'd come up empty. He'd come up empty.
"Maybe we should move him to the fire?" Jyme offered.
"The fire won't help, you fakkin' whoreson," Nix spat. But maybe the sorcerer could. "Get Rakon, Baras!"
"What?" Baras asked.
"Rakon!" Nix shouted. "Get over here right now!"
The sorcerer was still out on the glass, but not too far from them.
"Gods, mind your tongue, Nix," Baras whispered.
"Fak that and fak you! Rakon! Get over here! Now!"
"My lord!" Baras shouted. "We need assistance!"
Rakon left off what he'd been doing on the glass and made his way to the gathered men. His face looked drawn, strained. He stared down at Egil.
"He's wounded?" Rakon asked.
"He's poisoned," Nix said. "Same as your man, Derg. I used the enspelled jasper on your man and I don't have another. What can you do?"
Rakon looked taken aback by Nix's directness. "What can I do?"
"Am I unclear? What can you do to help him?"
For a time, Rakon did not answer. Again those turning gears behind his eyes.
"You won't like what I can do."
"Try me."
"There's a price."
"Name it."
"He's nearly gone. For him to live, someone else must die."
"A transference," Nix said. He'd heard of such magic.
"Yes," Rakon said. "A transference. One life for another."
The guards shifted from foot to foot. Jyme cursed softly.
Rakon looked meaningfully back to the campsite, a question in his raised eyebrows.
Nix, too, looked back to the campsite, licked his thin lips.
Rakon put a voice to Nix's thoughts.
"Derg may not live anyway. He's not as strong as the priest. You may have given him the jasper too late. Were he the object of the transference…"
Rakon trailed off, the dark possibility dangling before Nix.
"What are we talking about here?" Baras asked.
Rakon continued. "If you'd have known, if you'd have been asked to choose, you'd have chosen Egil."
"Of course I'd have chosen Egil," Nix said.
But Egil hadn't chosen Egil. That was the rub. The priest had known what he was doing and had made his decision. That's why he'd asked Nix if he had another stone.
Alms. Grace.
Maybe Egil was a real priest, after all.
But Nix wasn't. He tried to reconcile what he wanted to do with what he knew he should do.
"Nix…" Baras said, perhaps understanding at last.
"I already told you to shut up, Baras," Nix said. "Just keep your mouth shut. You have nothing to say here."
"These are the choices life forces us to make," Rakon said, though Nix wasn't entirely sure whether he was talking to Nix or to himself. "We do what we must for the ends we desire. It's why I put a spellworm in your guts. It's why you'd kill Derg."
"I won't allow Derg to be murdered for the priest," Baras said.
The other guards nodded, murmured agreement.
"Wait, is that what you're saying, Nix?" Jyme asked.
"You'd do exactly as I command," Rakon said to Baras.
"My lord!" Baras said, appalled.
"I haven't said anything," Nix said. "But you couldn't stop me if I wanted to do it. All of you couldn't stop me."
"It's wrong, Nix," Baras said.
Nix looked up and glared at him. "I know it's wrong! But Egil dying is wrong! I won't have it, Baras! I need another option-"
An idea struck him, a divine bolt of inspiration perhaps. He jumped to his feet and whirled on Rakon.
"You said someone has to die? What about one of those things, one of the Vwynn? You said they were the descendants of the people who lived here once. That means they'll work for the transference, yeah?"
Rakon raised his eyebrows, nodded after a long pause. "Yes. But then-"
"I'll get one," Nix said.
"Get one?" Baras asked. "What do you mean?"
"Fakking follow along, Baras," Nix snapped. "There are thousands of them just beyond these ruins."
"Thousands?" Jyme asked.
"No," Rakon said.
"No?" Nix rose and went nose to nose with the sorcerer. The spellworm roiled his guts. Not even Baras tried to move him away. "I'm going to get one. I'll bring it back and you'll cast your transference."
"You're going to go get one of those things?" Jyme asked, incredulous.
"I forbid it," Rakon said. "You can enter Abn Thuset's tomb alone, retrieve the horn alone. I don't need the priest."
" I need him," Nix said.
"Stop him, Baras," Rakon ordered.
Baras made no move toward Nix. "He seems determined, my lord."
"I'll kill him if I have to," Nix said to Rakon. He looked at Baras. "I'll kill you, Baras. No offense."
Jyme put a hand on Baras's shoulder, restraining him. "Not your fight."
"I'm telling you that you cannot leave," Rakon said.
"And I'm telling you to fak yourself. I'm leaving."
With that, Nix turned and walked toward the road. He'd take it back through the mountain of ruins, capture one of the Vwynn from the thousands lurking outside, and bring it back.
"Stop," Rakon said.
Nix's legs felt leaden almost immediately. He lifted one, then another. He tasted bile, felt nausea rising. He fought it, sought the hidey-hole he'd made for himself.
I'm Nix Fall of Dur Follin.
He thought of his days prowling the Heap, and took a step.
I'm Nix Fall of Dur Follin's Warrens.
He thought of Mamabird and took another.
He felt as if he was dragging boulders, but he kept walking. He reached the road. Vomit rushed up his throat and he puked in a spray before him.
"I… will… keep… going."
"My lord," Baras said.
"Shut up, Baras," Rakon snapped. "It'll stop you, Nix."
"It… might… kill… me," Nix said.
He thought of the old man he'd stabbed for bread and took another step. "But… it… damned… well… won't… stop… me!"
"I cannot have it, Nix. My sisters."
"My brother," Nix spat in answer. "Now loosen the compulsion or kill me, sorcerer. If Egil dies, I will not enter the tomb. I promise you that. I'll die first. And then so will your sisters. And even though they want you dead, I know you don't want them dead."
He glared at Rakon, wobbly on his numb legs, his hands slack and heavy at his sides.
The sorcerer stared at him, eyes narrowed. The guards looked on wide-eyed, gazes moving from Rakon to Nix, Nix to Rakon.
"Loosen it!" Nix demanded. "Or everything you've done will go for nothing."
Rakon's thin lips tightened, the gears turning between his snake eyes.
"Let him go," Jyme said. "Gods. He's owed the chance."
Rakon glared at Jyme, then at Nix.
"My lord," Baras said, "if any of us can get one of those things and bring it back, it's him."
Rakon stared at Baras, then at Nix. "Go, then," he said, and the sorcerer's willingness to release him loosened the pressure holding Nix in place. His body recovered immediately from the nausea and pain.
"You're still bound to me, Nix," Rakon said. "This is a just a temporary loosening of the compulsion. You bring one back — alive — and I'll kill it to save your priest."
Nix nodded at Baras and Jyme, turned and started to head off.
"Wait!" Baras called. "I'll help you. Least I can do for… everything."