Public Enemies (26 page)

Raoul bore left, driving with confidence onto a dirt road, though it was marked Private. Worried, I leaned forward. Kian was asleep; good, he needed the rest. The older man met my eyes in the rearview mirror.

“I can make the introductions. Govannon is no friend to Wedderburn, even if he realized I'd escaped his service. But he knows me by another name … from another life.”

“Literally?” Maybe that was a stupid question, but I'd learned to discount no possibility, no matter how improbable it sounded.

Raoul laughed softly. “No. I think I told you that I studied in the east for five years? My master there still honors the great smith. In ages past, Govannon supplied weapons to the monastery, though he's mostly retired these days.”

“He is?” My tone must've given away my disappointment.

“We can always ask,” he said. “‘A decent boldness ever meets with friends.'”

Raising my brows, I said, “You're quoting the
Odyssey
right now? Seriously? It took that guy forty years to get home.”

“We'll try to be more efficient,” he said, parking the car in front of the clapboard house painted lemon yellow, a bright contrast to the dark boughs of the barren trees around it.

The house backed up to the water with a stony path leading down to the gray and rippling lake. Something about the setting felt familiar, as if I'd dreamed this, but to my chagrin I couldn't remember how it went … or more important, the ending. There was space beside the house for several cars, but I was most impressed by the workshop behind. Smoke was coming out the chimney of the outbuilding, so at least we wouldn't be turning Govannon out of a warm bed.

“Looks like he's awake.”

Kian stirred at that, rubbing his eyes. “I'm up. Are we there?”

In reply Raoul opened the door. “Let's go say hello.”

“Uhm. You said he's no friend to Wedderburn. How about you know who?” I lofted the box containing the sun god's heart. “Will this piss him off?”

“Just the opposite. I'm sure it's been eons since he had a chance to work with anything so powerful. That's part of why he's retired, the challenge is lost in churning out simple tools. And without extraordinary materials, there can be no new legendary weapons.” Raoul paused as we all climbed out and then he said, “You, Edith Kramer, are writing your own story. One day they may talk of the girl who stole the sun god's heart.”

“Literally.” Kian said it this time, not a question, and I managed to smile.

It took all my self-control not to let my teeth chatter—and not from the cold—as I followed Raoul toward the workshop. He didn't seem worried, but given that all of the immortals except Rochelle had hurt me in some way, I didn't have high hopes for this encounter. Even the Harbinger, who was supposed to protect me, sent his death birds after me, and there was no
telling
what he'd do if he got a hold of me now.

Kian fell in step, wrapping my hand in his. His fingers were long and warm, and it nearly killed me to realize all over again that we had so little time.
But all the more reason I should prize each moment, right?
I gazed up at him, trying to picture how he'd look if nature had taken its course on that awkward freshman.
I wish I could see his face, the real one, just once.
The strength of that longing surprised me.

Before Raoul knocked, a mountain of a man flung the door open. He loomed in the doorway, nearly seven feet tall with enormous shoulders wrapped in yards of faded flannel. Bulging biceps strained the fabric and I'd never seen a chest like that outside of an action movie. His skin was weathered like old leather but I couldn't see much of it for the luxurious copper beard and long hair, loosely caught in a leather tie. With eyes like embers, he studied us. Scarred hands as big as frying pans made me think he definitely could forge a weapon out of Dwyer's heart. The only question was if he
would
.

But he was already frowning. “Yes?”

“I'm sorry to bother you, maestro.”

Unexpectedly, Govannon's expression cleared, as he seemed to recognize Raoul. “Li Jun, what are you doing here? Did Master Wu send you?”

Raoul bowed low and kept his head down until Govannon said, “None of that, come in, old friend.”

Could immortals and humans ever call themselves that? Nevertheless, I went in, still holding Kian's hand. Inside was an old-fashioned forge, complete with anvil, hammer, tongs, and tools whose names I didn't know. I'd never seen anything like it outside of a historical village. The temperature within immediately made me want to take off my jacket; it looked like he had been stoking the fire when we arrived.

“Master Wu has passed on,” Raoul said. “His successor may contact you at some point, but I'm not with the monastery anymore. My duty lies elsewhere.”

Govannon seemed to feel … something at the elderly monk's passing. I couldn't tell what it was. “Has it been so long? I … have no sense of time.”

“It's been fifteen years since we spoke last,” Raoul told him.

“Hm. And what young sparks have you brought?” When his shining gaze fell on me, I braced myself against the urge to step back.

There was an earthy, iron weight to his regard, one that whispered I wasn't worthy to be in his presence, different from the Harbinger's glamour, the cold god's dread, or Dwyer's bright arrogance. Govannon was all the quiet majesty of a primeval forest. He didn't need to threaten me or posture for me to sense his permanence. Everything about him was massive and solid, like a boulder set by glaciers a million years ago.

“I'm Edie.” That wasn't nearly enough, but all I could manage for the moment. Following Raoul's lead, I bowed to him until he gestured for me to stand up.

“Kian.” He did the same, prompting a half smile from the smith.

“Your reverence is noted. But … I sense you have business with me, lady. Am I wrong?”

Raoul didn't answer; neither did Kian. I'd taken Dwyer's heart. Now it was up to
me
to push the advantage.

“You're not.” This time I spoke more firmly. “I have some ore that could be turned into a devastating weapon, and you're the only one who can work it.”

A minute pause. Then Govannon said, “Color me … intrigued.”

When I gave him a glimpse of the ember in a box, his bushy bronze brows shot up nearly to his hairline. “I took this yesterday. If I don't acquire a better way to defend myself, he'll repo it and burn me to the ground.”

“The strength you used yesterday was fleeting?” the smith asked.

“It's finite.” I didn't show him my compact, but I didn't need to look at it to know my spirit familiar was still weak as hell.

“I'd love to do this for you.” Govannon's eyes shone like copper coins.

“I sense a but.”

“Astute of you, lady. Before I agree to this commission, I must be sure you're
worthy
of wielding one of my weapons.”

 

A GEM CANNOT BE POLISHED WITHOUT FRICTION

“How do I prove I am?”

Govannon smiled, sharp like one of his famed blades. “You must pass a test, of course.”

Kian tightened his grip on my hand, but I didn't let him protest. “Okay. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how important this is.”

“For me as well,” the smith replied.

I remembered what Raoul said about how long it had been since Govannon worked with anything but regular metals. “Just tell me what to do.”

In answer, he gestured, and the workshop disappeared. Suddenly I was alone on a rocky precipice, but I'd had this happen often enough now that I barely paused. There was no wind, no sensation of cold. Which meant this was an illusion. When Kian actually ported us to a mountainside in Tibet, I felt the difference. So whatever this was, it was happening in my head while my body hung out in the smithy.

Govannon hadn't explained anything about the test or what my ultimate goal was; fine, I'd wing it. I followed the rocky trail around until I came to a clearing. Two trees grew side by side, and they were in full blossom, contrary to the season in the real world. The tree on the left had one enormous white fruit unlike anything I'd ever seen. The closest comparison would be an oversized squash, but the texture was more like cantaloupe with a snow-white peel. On the right, the boughs groaned with a plethora of tiny red berries; they grew in clusters of five, rough like raspberries, but the color was similar to holly.

Let's see, most red berries are poisonous. But I'm probably not here to decide what to eat. Maybe I'm not supposed to do
anything
with the fruit. Could be a distraction.
So I tried to pass between, but the branches slammed down, blocking my path.
Okay, obviously I have to make a choice, here.
But there was no additional information forthcoming.

Hoping I wasn't making a rash decision, I turned to the berries and carefully plucked one sprig, then took a step forward. The branches didn't slam down this time.
I made the right call?
Unsure, I continued until I came to a brazier at the head of the path with forks heading right and left down either side of the mountain. Govannon's face appeared in the flames and he spoke in a booming voice.

“Prove to me this wasn't chance. Explain your choice.”

God, this sounded dumb. “Well, there were plenty of red berries. It seemed better to take some of those than to pull down the big melon thing. I mean, there's only one, and that means it must be special, right?”

“That is the selfless choice,” he agreed. “Proceed, lady.”

Then the fire went inert, simple flickering light that gave off no heat. I studied the paths but neither had distinguishing characteristics; it wasn't like one was tough and the other easy. They seemed to have the same grade incline and more or less the same amount of stones. This might not be a test, though. So I took the closer one and climbed down. Along the way, I came across a wolf with its foot caught in a snare, but when I tried to help it, the animal snarled at me. Even in a dreamscape, I wasn't eager to have my arm ripped open, and Govannon might be powerful enough that any damage I took here would transfer to my physical body.

Hm. I wonder if feeding it would calm it down. But I don't want to hurt it.
Since I had no way to be sure if these berries were good to eat, I plucked one off the stem, broke it open, and tasted the juice. It was sweetish, and even if it was poison, a taste wouldn't be enough to kill me, right? I waited for a while to see how I felt. The wolf settled down, glaring at me out of amber eyes. Every now and then, it snarled, but at least it was no longer gnawing at its own foot.

Eventually I decided the berries were harmless and I plucked another one, leaving me with three. I rolled it toward the wolf, who devoured it hungrily. To my astonishment, it fell over a few seconds later.
Oh, crap, was that wolfsbane? Is that even a thing?
I ran toward it to make sure I hadn't killed it, but it seemed to be asleep.
Hm, maybe the berry has a sedative effect on canines?
When I pulled its hurt paw out of the trap, I wasn't even thinking about tests. After ripping my shirt in strips, I fashioned a bandage for its foreleg and wrapped it up tight. Then I backed off because I didn't want to be too close when it woke up.

I sat down some distance away and just waited. The wolf was out for what seemed like a long time for one berry, and when it stirred, it stretched and looked around, no longer mindless with pain and terror. It sniffed and nuzzled the wrapping on its paw, but didn't try to chew it off. Then it glanced over at me, all keen attention.

“You're okay now,” I said softly.

The wolf responded by bounding toward me and I jerked back, but instead of attacking, it jumped on me with friendly intentions, licking my face like a dog. Trembling, I ran my hand across its back. Cautiously, I stood up and it fell into step a few paces behind me, tail up as if ready for adventure. It limped a little but not enough to slow us down.

“So you're Team Edie now? Awesome.”

A quiet chuff came in response, and I glanced over my shoulder to find the wolf giving me a look that seemed a little too wise. When the ground leveled out, there was another brazier. I stopped short, then took a second look at the wolf.

“Huh. You were the next test?”

“Indeed.” The fire came to life once more with Govannon's face. “The cleverness in how you instinctively sought to help a hostile creature, how you risked yourself to do so, and the compassion you showed in tending its wounds … you've more than passed the test of cunning and kindness, lady.”

“Wow.” I wondered what was on the path I hadn't chosen.

“As your reward, the wolf will accompany you through the last trial.”

“Thanks,” I said, but the god of the forge was already gone.

The wolf yipped, nudging my leg. I rubbed its head and continued on the path. Level ground now, we'd reached a plateau and there was no choice but to go straight. In the distance I glimpsed wooden stakes in the ground, arranged in a circle as if marking out a primitive arena, not a pit like I'd fought in for the Harbinger, but something more like a Native American proving grounds. The ground was dry and dusty beneath my feet and strewn with stones.

A large humanoid paced in the center, a giant club dragging the ground behind it. The creature was clad in roughly tanned skins and it had a misshapen skull. When it turned, I saw it had only one big eye in the middle of its forehead.
Cyclops? Seriously?
Somehow I doubted I'd be able to tame it with berries. It roared when it spotted me, but it drew up short when it reached the stakes. Apparently I had to step into the ring willingly before it could attack.

“Face me,” the monster bellowed.