smile never made it all the way to his eyes. “If I’m lucky, sure.”
“And if you’re not?”
“The Brichts weren’t happy about me being hauled in by the Guard.”
“That wasn’t your fault. And I cleared your name.”
Johan patted my elbow. “And for that, you have my undying thanks. You gave me back my life. I cannot ask you for anything more.”
“So what are the Brichts worried about?”
He grimaced, then opened his mouth and gestured at his tongue. Then he filled it with beer again.
Then I got it. “They’re afraid you ratted them out over something.”
He nodded.
“Did you?”
He snorted. “Of course not. The Guard might have beaten me within an inch of my life, but they never made me wish I was dead. The Brichts? They’re good at that. The best.”
He reached over across the bar and poured himself another drink from the tap.
“You know, it’s a big mountain we live on. And in. Lots of places for a dwarf to get lost down there in the depths of the mines.” He sipped at his beer, then wiped the foam from his beard. “Of course, I don’t know any of that personally. That’s just what Henrik told me just before I left.”
I knew I was being manipulated. I didn’t know for sure if it was Johan pulling my strings or Henrik doing it through him. Either way, I didn’t suppose it made a difference.
I glanced at the clock over the bar, then reached over and clapped Johan on the back. “It’s earlier than I thought. I should be able to squeeze in a quick visit to the Stronghold.”
Johan gasped in surprise, then did a poor job of stifling a relieved grin. “Thank you, Max,” he said as I finished off the last of my beer. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for everything you’ve done for me.”
I put my stein back down on the bar. Thumper, my bartender, would clean it up later. I got up to leave, and Johan followed right after me.
“Just give me five minutes with Henrik, alone,” I said with a grim viciousness as we left the Quill and I locked the door with my wand. “Then I think we can call it even.”
C HAPTER N INE
I have to hand it to the Brichts. They might push people around, using them as little more than disposable pawns in their intricate, long-term power games, but at least they do it with style. Johan led me out of the Quill to a long, veiled palanquin fashioned from black cloth and ebon wood. The veils stood taut as if wired down, but they magically moved aside at Johan’s touch.
We climbed inside and sat down on the large, round cushions scattered throughout the place, which was upholstered with black leather. The interior had been sectioned off into two areas by another veil. As we made ourselves comfortable for the ride, a dwarf in a black uniform and skullcap pulled back the veil that separated us from the front of the ride and gave Johan an approving nod.
“To the Clan Hall, sirs?”
Johan confirmed this with a nod. The driver let the veil drop behind him as he turned his attention forward once more. A moment later, we were climbing into the morning sky.
“Why would he ask about the Clan Hall?” I said. “Isn’t he just going to have to drop us off at the Stronghold gate anyhow?”
“Why would he do that?”
“Flyers aren’t allowed in the Stronghold. Right?”
Johan smiled. “Technically you’re correct. The Brichts have a special, ah, dispensation for that.”
“You mean nobody’s going to stop them, but aren’t most of the tunnels just too damn small for a flyer this size to fit through?”
He relaxed a bit, happy to chat on a subject something he knew something about — and that didn’t involve him being threatened into dealing with it. “Not in the hands of a driver like Ingo there. He could thread the Dragon’s Spire itself and come out the other end without scorching this thing’s fabric. But the Brichts also have their own private route to the Clan
“And if you’re not?”
“The Brichts weren’t happy about me being hauled in by the Guard.”
“That wasn’t your fault. And I cleared your name.”
Johan patted my elbow. “And for that, you have my undying thanks. You gave me back my life. I cannot ask you for anything more.”
“So what are the Brichts worried about?”
He grimaced, then opened his mouth and gestured at his tongue. Then he filled it with beer again.
Then I got it. “They’re afraid you ratted them out over something.”
He nodded.
“Did you?”
He snorted. “Of course not. The Guard might have beaten me within an inch of my life, but they never made me wish I was dead. The Brichts? They’re good at that. The best.”
He reached over across the bar and poured himself another drink from the tap.
“You know, it’s a big mountain we live on. And in. Lots of places for a dwarf to get lost down there in the depths of the mines.” He sipped at his beer, then wiped the foam from his beard. “Of course, I don’t know any of that personally. That’s just what Henrik told me just before I left.”
I knew I was being manipulated. I didn’t know for sure if it was Johan pulling my strings or Henrik doing it through him. Either way, I didn’t suppose it made a difference.
I glanced at the clock over the bar, then reached over and clapped Johan on the back. “It’s earlier than I thought. I should be able to squeeze in a quick visit to the Stronghold.”
Johan gasped in surprise, then did a poor job of stifling a relieved grin. “Thank you, Max,” he said as I finished off the last of my beer. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for everything you’ve done for me.”
I put my stein back down on the bar. Thumper, my bartender, would clean it up later. I got up to leave, and Johan followed right after me.
“Just give me five minutes with Henrik, alone,” I said with a grim viciousness as we left the Quill and I locked the door with my wand. “Then I think we can call it even.”
C HAPTER N INE
I have to hand it to the Brichts. They might push people around, using them as little more than disposable pawns in their intricate, long-term power games, but at least they do it with style. Johan led me out of the Quill to a long, veiled palanquin fashioned from black cloth and ebon wood. The veils stood taut as if wired down, but they magically moved aside at Johan’s touch.
We climbed inside and sat down on the large, round cushions scattered throughout the place, which was upholstered with black leather. The interior had been sectioned off into two areas by another veil. As we made ourselves comfortable for the ride, a dwarf in a black uniform and skullcap pulled back the veil that separated us from the front of the ride and gave Johan an approving nod.
“To the Clan Hall, sirs?”
Johan confirmed this with a nod. The driver let the veil drop behind him as he turned his attention forward once more. A moment later, we were climbing into the morning sky.
“Why would he ask about the Clan Hall?” I said. “Isn’t he just going to have to drop us off at the Stronghold gate anyhow?”
“Why would he do that?”
“Flyers aren’t allowed in the Stronghold. Right?”
Johan smiled. “Technically you’re correct. The Brichts have a special, ah, dispensation for that.”
“You mean nobody’s going to stop them, but aren’t most of the tunnels just too damn small for a flyer this size to fit through?”
He relaxed a bit, happy to chat on a subject something he knew something about — and that didn’t involve him being threatened into dealing with it. “Not in the hands of a driver like Ingo there. He could thread the Dragon’s Spire itself and come out the other end without scorching this thing’s fabric. But the Brichts also have their own private route to the Clan
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