The lord tsked. “Yes. No matter how hard history tries to bury the truth, it tends to find its way into stories.”
“And if the story is accurate, Idia’s Seam is damn near the earth’s fuckin’ mantle.”
Theodore shifted nervously again.
“Then it is lucky we have Nina, if indeed she can be persuaded to help us.”
Patrick swallowed. Inside him was a hound, lifting its muzzle to a scent. He could not pretend that his fingers did not itch, that his spine did not quiver. “I need proof,” he said. “If you believe Idia’s Seam to be real, then you must’ve found somethin’.”
“A detailed account of its existence, in fact,” Lord Shop nodded. “It will be shown to you in time.”
“I’ll agree to nothin’ until then.”
Lord Shop stepped forward, spoke so lowly Patrick had to watch his lips to decode him. “There’s an order to everything,” he said, then patted Patrick once on the shoulder. “First, the wolves fight, then I’ll give you what you need.”
“And in the meantime?” Patrick asked, an insistent warning knocking at his skull.
“In the meantime, I’ll need a favor from you,” he said. “If indeed I am to remove our Head of House, I’ll need the means to do so, and it must be subtle.”
So, then, he was to be Lord Shop’s wolf. He’d happily rip Tanner limb from limb.
“I’ll do it,” Patrick said, fists curling.
“No,” Lord Shop said sharply. “No need. Though you can grant someone else the ability.”
Gooseflesh trailed Patrick’s neck. “Who?”
“Someone who won’t let the opportunity pass them by.”
“My father?” Patrick grimaced. “I’d have it be me instead.”
Lord Shop’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“Because it would scratch an itch,” Patrick said. “And because I’m guessin’ you’d moniker my father an assassin and have him hung for it.”
Shop was silent. He let loose a sigh. “I need allies, Mr. Colson. Particularly in the brink towns. I have no intention of severing my alliance with your father. He has been… most instrumental.”
“Then I’ll do it myself, and he needn’t be implicated at all.”
“No, he needn’t. And he won’t. Nor will anyone. From the outside, it will appear Tanner suffered a failed heart, or some other episode.” Lord Shop grasped his son lightly on the shoulder. “My son is quite the accomplished Charmer. He can bend water at the molecular level—even water in the blood, in a person’s very pores. He can draw it back into a person’s lungs, if he so chooses.”
Theo met Patrick’s eyes and thought he saw a hint of panic there.
“My son has much to make up for,” Lord Shop said, and though he squeezed Theo’s shoulder gently, the boy still flinched. “Produce the idium. Just a single dose. Theodore will do the rest.”
Patrick spent long minutes considering. He’d made enough deals with bad men to know Lord Shop was the worst kind.
He thought it likely the lord would renege his offer of truce or underhand the negotiations. But Patrick was the last Alchemist, and there was power in that, at least.
There was little choice.
Patrick wished he could speak to Theo alone. He wanted, badly, to ensure that he could see this plan through. Not all men could kill in cold blood.
“When will it happen?”
Shop shook his head. “In good time.”
“I want to see it myself,” Patrick said. Hunger in him reared up, teeth gnashing.
