Justice shifted his balance, leaning forward. On his left, Griff’s tendons stretched and snapped beneath his suit.
I wonder if the conjurers realized Jagger’s creatures were posed to attack.
Maybe they did. Probably, they didn’t care.
They still thought they had the upper hand.
You might wonder why Jagger didn’t just have us kill all of them right then and there. We could have. Or we could have tried. But then more conjurers would’ve taken their places. It was the hydra problem. Jagger wanted them to align with us so we could encourage them to destroy themselves. He couldn’t do that if we killed this five.
“This is dangerous,” the Bard said, considering an execution order. “She is a dangerous creature.”
Luvic pulled the handkerchief from his nose. Blood stained his lips. “Yes, but if she is our dangerous creature, then . . . a sword isn’t dangerous to the one wielding it.”
Luvic didn’t look at me when he said this. He ignored me, as if I were a creature far beneath him.
Primus, though, was studying me as if he wanted to tie me to the stone in his torture chamber and have a go at me for a few years. His attention made my skin crawl.
“You align with me,” Jagger said, “and Mari will prevent the Smith from conjuring. Imagine a powerless Smith. No illusion. No fire to burn your homes. No shields or swords of flame.”
“He can still fight,” the Clark said.
“But what would that do when you can conjure? I’m told he doesn’t have the solange touch any longer. With my mine, he would be powerless and completely vulnerable.”
“What do you want?” the Bard asked. “For this alliance. What do you get?”
Jagger moved his hand to the obsidian knife hanging from the cord around his neck. He stroked his finger down the sharp blade. “Only a small thing. The Smith dead. His brother dead. The same desire as you. But also, just like you, I want respect. To be treated as an ally. I want your heirs to work closely with my creatures. To be partners. To be . . . perhaps friends. If you need a home, you may stay here. If you need respite, we will give it. While our alliance lasts, Hell Gate will not harm you, and you will not harm Hell Gate. It is a thing like blood brothers. An oath of alliance.”
The Clark pointed a long finger at me. “You will not use your creature against us. She will be our weapon to use.”
Jagger’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, and his eyelids lowered over his flat gray eyes. He had them, and he knew it.
“Mari is mine. My weapon. But I would be happy to share with my allies and friends.”
Luvic stepped forward. He reached out and gripped my chin, tilting my head up. “Do you want to ally with us? Do you want to kill the Smith?”
His fingers pressed into my jaw. The pressure of them was bruising.
“Yes.”
“To which?”
“To both.”
He smiled.
“You’ve always been the leggerock’s creature,” Primus said. His tone had an undercurrent of excited wonder, like he’d just discovered a fascinating new species. “You don’t care about the Smith. You only want to please the leggerock.”
“His will is mine,” I said, and when I did, Primus smiled.
He understood this. It was what the Clarks did best, creating bodies who only wanted to serve.
Primus leaned over and whispered something to his father. The Clark contemplated his words and then slowly nodded.
Luvic dropped his fingers from my chin. He put on his amused smile and turned toward his father. “I think yes.”
The Bard’s mouth tightened, but with all his illusion, not a single wrinkle formed. Slowly, he nodded.
“We will form an alliance,” the Clark said, “if you will give us your mine for use two days of every seven.”
