“I can still see the curse on it,” Emeric wheezes. “And the god-marks of Death and Fortune on you. With or without the pearls.”
I go still. “You can see the curse?”
“From Eiswald.” He nods.
For a moment, I waver.
Thisimmediatelyproves to be a mistake. Emeric whips the manacle chain around my other ankle and yanks. I tumble to the floor. The pearls fly out of my hand and roll out of reach. I wrench over onto my back just as Emeric lunges for me—
And cold iron grinds against my throat. He’s pinning me down with the manacle chain, one hand planted on each side of my neck, and he looks both exasperated and oddly uncomfortable.
“I would really . . . rather not . . . keep doing this.” His voice scrapes a little as he catches his breath, glaring down at me. “I have spent the last ten years training to apprehend far better criminals than you. We can come to an arrangement if you surrender.”
Better criminals.Greater thieves, I think. The kind he doesn’t have to send to the gallows.
Here’s the thing about people like Emeric Conrad: They don’t know what to do when they’re not the smartest person in the room. He thinks he won because he fooled me for a day, never mind that I’ve been fooling half of Bóern for a year.
He thinks he can apprehend better criminals than me, because he’s never met a criminal quite like me.
So I blink my big black eyes up at him, and say: “Poldi.”
A ball of flame bursts from the fireplace and slams into Emeric like a charging bull.
I am going to owe himso muchmead.
Emeric hits the ground, winded. Poldi grabs him by the collar.
“Where do you want him, Lady?” thekoboldgrunts in a voice that pops and crackles like dry firewood going up in smoke.
“Outside.”
The veranda door flies open as I get back onto my feet and dust myself off, rather savoring Emeric’s sputtered protests. Poldi hauls him out with less than an abundance of careful handling. I close the veranda door behind us and point to the balustrade.
Poldi’s form has settled into a stout, fiery little man again, but he moves like no man can, climbing the air like it’s a staircase and taking Emeric up with him. Emeric’s boot tips just touch the railing.
“Here’s my arrangement,” I tell him. “You’ve got less than a minute before Poldi burns through that collar of yours. It would be wise to tell meeverythingyou know about Eiswald’s curse first.”
“Again,” Emeric says irritably, “youcould have just asked.”
I fold my arms with a cold-blooded smile. “But then I wouldn’t be holding your life in my hands. Where’s the fun in that?”
His manacle chain clinks as he tries to gesticulate angrily. “There is somethingverywrong with you.”
“And there’s a”—I lean forward and squint—“thirty-foot drop, give or take, before you hit the Yssar. Tell me about the curse, Junior.”
“I already told you everything I know.”
I nod to Poldi. Emeric slips a little.
“It’s the truth!” he insists. “I can see it’s a curse, and it’s from Eiswald—”
My voice rises despite myself. “What about how to break it? Or what Eiswald wants from me?Anythingelse?”
“Only . . .” Emeric flinches. “. . . that it will kill you by the full moon.”
A razor-thin crescent is inching over the horizon.
“I’m aware,” I say grimly. “So I don’t have time to waste with you. Poldi, do the honors.”
