Extermination (Daniel Black Book 3) (12 page)

Tova looked away. “Now I’m truly jealous. In any event, it seems unlikely that my wiles would be sufficient to wring any great concessions from you. But perhaps there is some other bargain we could make?”

I shrugged, and leaned against a wall. “Maybe. I’m not necessarily against the idea of bartering, but right now every hour is precious. If I’m going to spend time making another power amulet, I need to get something in return that’s actually more valuable to me than any of the thousand other things I could have made instead. What do you have to offer?”

She was poised enough not to give any obvious signs of nervousness, but there was a certain unmistakable tension in the way she held herself. For whatever reason, she was really concerned about the outcome of this conversation.

“I am uncertain of exactly where your needs might lie,” she began. “Although, of course, I don’t expect that you would outline them to me. I suppose the most obvious thing I could offer would be my personal expertise. I am counted quite skilled at training young women in the art of pleasing a man, with and without magic.”

“The last thing I need is for those girls to be even more irresistible,” I chuckled. “Besides, if I wanted to go that route I already have a retainer who’d be happy to handle it. Have you heard of the Mistress of the Grove of Bloody Thorns?”

Her eyes went wide with shock for a moment, before she covered it. “Mistress Pelagia? Yes, I am familiar with her. But I had always heard that she guarded her independence quite fiercely.”

“Fimbulwinter makes for strange allies,” I pointed out. “At any rate, while that sort of thing might be fun it doesn’t keep any of us from freezing to death or being eaten by monsters. What else do you have?”

“I am one of the Conclave’s foremost experts on spells of influence, and I have accumulated a small surplus of thoroughly enchanted defensive items. I could outfit one or two people to resist virtually any form of mind magic.”

I considered that. “We’ve already got pretty good defenses in that area. I suppose it’s the sort of thing where you can’t be too careful, but then again we really aren’t facing a lot of threats of that nature.”

“Are you that sure of whatever hold you have over Pelagia?” she asked pointedly.

I shook my head. “I don’t have a hold over her, Tova. She’s an ally, not a slave, and she came to me of her own free will.”

“Really? How unusual. Are you going to make a habit of such impossibilities, Daniel?”

“Pretty much,” I admitted.

She paused to study me for a long moment.

“What is your view on binding demons?” She finally asked.

I frowned. “Relying on something that wants to kill you is generally pretty stupid, unless you’re so desperate that you don’t have another choice. You might get away with it once, but if you make a habit of it you’ll eventually make a mistake. Why?”

“I am something of an expert on the various races of demons,” she admitted. “Binding anything impressive would normally be beyond my power, but access to one of your amulets would change that. Your point about the innate hostility of most demons is well taken, of course.”

“Most?” I asked.

“There are always exceptions. They have their own rules and hierarchies, like anyone. Their own needs and desires. Most demonic races are too monstrous for this to be of any help, of course. Summoning an ungol to kill your enemies might seem to fit its nature, but it will likely begin the slaughter with its summoner.”

“Yeah, they’re not terribly sociable. I take it you’ve found some special cases that actually work, then?”

“I have,” she admitted. “Ordinarily such summonings are too dangerous for my taste, but again that is more a matter of power than skill. I could provide you with several fairly powerful servitors in exchange for an amulet. Or even…”

She trailed off, hesitating.

“Yes?”

She studied the floor for a moment.

“You spoke of retainers. Are you recruiting, Daniel?”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Yes. But that seems like quite a leap of faith, for both of us. Why would you even consider it?”

“Perhaps the prospect of a glorious death does not enthrall me as it does the men of this city. It seems to me that you don’t intend to follow that path.”

“As a famous general of my land once said, no one ever won a war by dying gloriously for his country. You win wars by making the other guy die gloriously for his country.”

She smiled thinly. “Ambitious.”

“Always. Well, I’m going to have to think about the demon idea a bit. It sounds useful if it actually works out, but there are also a lot of risks involved. As far as the other thing…”

“Let it be, for now,” she interrupted. “I spoke in haste. There would be consequences to consider, and grave difficulties to overcome. I’m sure you have more pressing concerns.”

“Yeah, my to-do list is about a mile long,” I agreed. “Speaking of which, it’s about time I got back to work. Come visit me in a few days, and we’ll see if we can work something out on the amulet.”

“Thank you, Daniel. I shall.”

I spent the trip back to my island thinking. Would I want someone like Tova in my organization?

On the one hand a fully trained wizardess would be a godsend. Her presence would go a long way towards addressing Cerise’s desire for some magical backup, and if she could really hire a squad of reliable demon mercenaries that would be even better. Not to mention that she was bound to have a lot of cards she hadn’t shown yet.

On the other hand, recruiting one of Steelbinder’s people out from under him was sure to cause friction. Not to mention that I had no idea how trustworthy Tova would actually be. It was all too likely that she’d try to manipulate herself into a position of influence, or try some kind of clever mind control scheme, or turn out to be a spy for the Conclave. It would be hard to ever trust her.

I had some real misgivings about the whole demon summoning thing too. I could see a lot of ways for something like that to go wrong. But I didn’t really know enough about demons to evaluate the risks, so I resolved to talk to Cerise and Elin about it.

My plans for a quick conversation were derailed when a maid intercepted me at the elevators.

“My lord!” She called as I approached. “Thank goodness you’re back. Miss Avilla sent me to fetch you as soon as you arrive. You have visitors.”

“Visitors?” I asked.

She glanced around, and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Elves, milord. All fancied up like nobles. Miss Avilla said to tell you they’re the next batch? Miss Cerise is with them now, but they’re waiting to speak with you.”

“Ah. Well, I’d better see what they want, then.”

We only had one sitting room set up to receive formal visitors, so there wasn’t any question where I’d find them. Especially since Gronir was guarding the door with a couple of wolfen and one of Corinna’s warrior dryads. I nodded to him, and opened the door.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from actual elves, but this definitely wasn’t it.

The first thing that caught my eye was the ears. Long and pointed, more like anime elves than the more traditional sort, and mobile like a dog’s. That part was obvious because when I entered the room several of them started, and their ears went flat momentarily before perking back up.

Aside from that oddity they almost looked Arabic. They were a bit taller than the humans of Varmland, almost matching my own height, with sharp features and dusky skin tones. Heavy fur cloaks and coats were strewn about the room, leaving them clad in finely worked garments of leather and silk that left their arms and shoulders bare.

Four of them were obviously guards, with slender swords at their sides and intricately recurved bows in leather cases on their backs. They definitely lacked the waifish build of typical fantasy elves, though, and to my surprise two of them were women. The men were muscular and solidly built, while both women boasted exuberant curves and startlingly generous bust lines. Both sexes had waist-length hair in various dark shades of red or brown, worn in long braids decorated with little bits of jewelry.

At the table in the middle of the room a slightly older-looking elf in silk robes was drinking and playing darts with Cerise. I’m not sure where they even got the dart board, because it certainly hadn’t been there yesterday. But from the way they were laughing it was apparently a hit.

The last occupant of the room was another male elf in robes, who was standing beside the table wringing his hands and looking worried. He seemed a little younger than the others, but since they weren’t human I wasn’t sure if I could rely on that kind of impression.

“Hello, Cerise,” I said. “Having fun?”

She started, and nearly dropped the dart that she’d been about to throw. I glanced at the board, and realized that she’d been showing off. There was a dart in the bullseye, and another dart stuck to that one, and a third dart embedded in the second one. The whole assemblage was wobbling ominously, obviously about to fall off at any moment.

“Hey, Daniel!” She called, sounding just a little tipsy. “Check it out. Hecate sent us some dark elves.”

The older elf smiled tolerantly, and stood to offer me his hand.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Cerise,” he said. “Greetings to you, Adept Black. I am Irithil Nethwillin, of the Nethwillin Trading Company.”

He had a firm but measured grip, and made a point of meeting my eyes. Interesting.

“Welcome to my sanctuary, Irithil,” I replied. “I assume Cerise has already offered you hospitality, but I’ll be happy to confirm your welcome. What can I do for the Nethwillin Trading Company?”

He smiled easily. “Straight to the point, is it? Come, share a drink or two as we discuss matters.”

“Yeah, dark elves have this whole big thing about drinking over business,” Cerise put in.

Well, it wasn’t like alcohol would do anything to me as long as I was wearing my amulet. Come to think of it, Cerise was wearing hers too. What was she drinking, that she’d managed to get buzzed? Or was she faking it?”

“I see. I suppose they have a higher alcohol tolerance than most of the races they do business with,” I observed.

The young elf looked even more nervous at that, but Irithil just smiled.

“The Adept is a perceptive man,” he said. “Oh, I should introduce my assistant Valthenis. He’s still only a student of the art of negotiation, so I hope you’ll make some allowances if he should happen to misstep.”

I waved off his concern. “No worries. Apprentices have to learn the trade somehow, right? Besides, my people are pretty informal compared to the humans in Varmland. You’d have to work pretty hard to offend me.”

I took a seat at the table, and casually brushed my fingers against Cerise’s arm. Damn, she wasn’t faking. Was that some kind of magical intoxication effect?

“That’s good to hear, Adept Black. Valthenis, pour some firewine for the Adept. The Chumash bold, I think. Nothing but the best for our host.”

Cerise leaned over to kiss my cheek, and I used the contact to probe her system in more detail. Yeah, that wine was some kind of magical intoxication potion. The enchantment was a subtle one, very hard to detect, but fortunately my mana sorcery was up to the task. I blended my magic with Cerise’s for a moment, and broke it.

She gasped, and suddenly sat up straight.

I accepted the goblet Irithil was offering, a fancy thing made of transparent crystal, and examined the contents closely.

“Impressive,” I admitted. “The enchantment is blended into the substance of the wine so subtly that it would be invisible to most people. What do you do, enchant the grapes? No, it’s more indirect than that. Modified plants? Or is the magic in the soil?”

“You have an uncommonly keen eye, lord wizard,” Irithil said carefully. “The details are a closely held secret, of course.”

“I should have known you were up to something,” Cerise groaned. “Typical dark elf.”

“I could hardly send my people to live under a foreign lord without testing his mettle,” Irithil said mildly.

I sipped the wine. It was oddly spicy, with a complex blend of flavors I couldn’t quite identify, but quite good. I broke the enchantment as it tried to affect me, and set the goblet aside.

“Just don’t try my patience,” I told him. “A test or two at the beginning of a relationship is understandable, but if it continues past the point where an agreement is reached it quickly becomes treachery.”

“The dark elves are slow to make alliances, but even slower to break one,” Irithil assured me. “Nethwillin has been especially wary of entanglements since we won our independence two thousand years ago, but the sudden advent of Fimbulwinter has caught us off guard. Our former leadership was convinced that the whole Ragnarok prophecy was an elaborate misdirection.”

“Former leadership?” I asked.

“After such a calamitous error in judgment the old clan head was naturally forced to step down,” he explained.

“Ah.” I wondered if ‘step down’ was a euphemism for some more permanent fate. Leaders rarely give up power voluntarily, and what little I knew about the dark elves didn’t suggest that they were any less ruthless than the humans in this world.