‘You must be Janak.’
Instead of answering, the man looked at Kenton and Fyn. ‘The cursed leader, the faithless warrior, the shadow’s shadow and the doomed cripple.’ He frowned. ‘The shadow must be below?’
The three avatars glanced at one another, unsure how to answer the strange question.
The man nodded. ‘Of course he is. Best to be safe, eh? In case I left it down there.’ He eyed Fyn, taking note of the weapons bristling from his arms, belt and back. ‘Well, you’re the warrior …’ His eyes travelled back to Kenton. ‘… which makes you the cripple.’
Kenton flicked his long hair over his scar.
The merchant frowned, still studying Kenton. ‘The Oracle implied you only had one arm to steal her with.’ He leaned forward, studying the tachi clutched in Kenton’s hands.
Annev turned sideways, instinctively shielding his gloved prosthetic. How does he know? Could he really have the Oracle? The very idea made him sweat. If Janak had the Oracle, he could have asked it anything.
The man shrugged. ‘No matter. She speaks in riddles, so I’m bound to misunderstand parts. But you won’t take her from me. No, no. She warned me, you know. Said you’d steal her from me.’ He looked directly at Fyn. ‘And that you, the warrior, have been tasked to kill me.’
Fyn met the man’s gaze, also unintimidated, and pulled a throwing knife from his bracer. ‘If you are Janak, then yes. For use of a Rod of Compulsion, your life is forfeit.’
The merchant grunted, unimpressed. ‘It’s a shame, you know. Winsor and I had a very sensible arrangement before your new headmaster refused to cooperate. I suppose I should thank him, though. If he hadn’t cut me off, I never would have sought assistance elsewhere. Never would have found the Oracle … or learned the truth.’
Truth? Arrangement? Fyn and Kenton were equally baffled by Janak’s monologue, and while they kept their attention on the merchant, their reactions hadn’t been lost on Janak.
‘I see Tosan kept you in the dark.’ He rested an elbow on the arm of his wheelchair. ‘Then before you dispatch me, I will enlighten you.’ He gestured broadly at the art and furniture lining the room. ‘I’m a bit of a collector. In my prime, I travelled the world in search of its treasures, and I found more than a few dangers along the way. What you see here is just a fraction of the wealth I have accumulated. The rest I sell or keep in storage.’
He wheeled his chair over to the tall suit of bronze armour and rested a hand on the metal. ‘This is one of my personal treasures. I wore it long ago, when I was more mercenary than merchant.’ He sighed and dropped his hand to his lap. ‘When I lost the use of my legs, I turned my attention to accumulating magic. I was desperate for a way to restore my mobility.’ He shrugged. ‘Your Academy didn’t care about my motives, though, and avatar after avatar came to steal my possessions. I wasn’t sure what was happening at first. I’d acquire an artifact one week and it was spirited away the next.’
Janak wheeled his chair back to the desk. As he moved, Fyn looked at Annev. ‘Why are we listening to this?’ he whispered. ‘And why hasn’t he raised an alarm? We should kill him now.’
Fyn was right – Janak was too calm, too confident for his liking, and it was unsettling that he had not called for help – but the merchant had also spoken of an arrangement with the Academy, and Annev wanted to know what it was. Plus, Janak had mentioned the Oracle – a detail Tosan hadn’t known and which neither Fyn nor Kenton knew the significance of – so Annev held up a finger, asking the boy to wait. Fyn gritted his teeth at the silent command and checked the maces on his back, but he stayed in place.
‘In the end, I found a way to communicate with you. I hid notes inside artifacts I expected would be stolen, and finally Winsor and I came to an agreement: I would buy all the artifacts I could find, and every few months the Academy would send an avatar to retrieve them.’
Annev couldn’t believe it. ‘And you … gave them up willingly?’
‘No. I gave them up in payment for the use of my legs.’
Annev frowned, glancing at Janak’s half-hidden limbs. The merchant understood and, after fumbling with the incense lamp tucked into its folds, he pulled the blanket up to reveal the extent of his emaciated legs. ‘The Academy has a Rod of Healing,’ Janak said, massaging his shrivelled calves. ‘Once a month, your headmaster allowed me to heal myself and restore strength to my legs. The effect lasted about a fortnight, and for that time I lived my life as I had before. A fair bargain by my estimation.’ Janak gripped the rims of the steel shields attached to his chair, his eyes growing dark.
‘Unfortunately, your new headmaster disliked our arrangement. He believes that I’ve been giving trinkets to the Academy and have kept the greatest magics for myself. So, instead of continuing my treatment, Tosan sends thieves to pillage my house.’ He gestured to the three intruders, illustrating his point. ‘Now tell me, which party has injured the other?’
Annev lowered his weapons, feeling sorry for the man. It was obvious Tosan was the one at fault – his irrational fears had already sent Annev on a fool’s errand to kill Crag in the Brake, and now his paranoia was ruining the life of a harmless merchant.
No, Annev thought, he’s not harmless. He brainwashed Duvarek and is holding him hostage. He’s here … somewhere.
‘You took one of our own,’ Annev said, forcing himself to move towards the merchant. ‘You knew there would be repercussions.’
Janak rubbed the brass lamp in his lap, his face a thundercloud. ‘Yes, she warned me not to fight back. Said if I tried to keep the rod, the Shadow would take it from me – and that if I used the rod, Sorrow would follow.’ The merchant slapped a callused hand against his emaciated thigh. ‘But I know better! I’ve struck a bargain with an ally more powerful than your silly ancients, and he’s promised me new legs! Strong ones that never break, never tire, and won’t grow old.’ Janak’s eyes glimmered with a touch of madness as they fastened on Kenton. ‘And all he wants in return is one silly little bird …’
‘Annev,’ Fyn whispered again, more urgent. ‘This is stupid. He knows he’s trapped and he’s spinning stories till his guards come. We should kill him and move on.’
Annev bristled at the boy’s tone. He was the one in charge of this mission, not Fyn.
‘Stand down, Fyn. I lead this team, and you won’t kill Janak until I say so.’
Fyn snorted. ‘Gods, you’re thicker than I thought.’ He looked to Kenton, who was frozen at the opposite side of the room. ‘Kenton!’ he shouted, dropping all pretence at stealth. ‘Annev’s lost his wits. I’m taking charge. On my count, we rush him. When he’s dead, we’ll search for Duvarek and the rod.’
Kenton hesitated. ‘Let him live. He could tell us where Duvarek is, and the rod.’