Page 23 of Reap & Sow

Lich paused in drawing on his pipe. The scent of pomade and spiced tobacco made for an overwhelming combination. “Then it seems I know you, as well.” His eyes didn’t leave her face. “Your family has a Gateway.”

Guess we’re getting straight to it. “Yes, sir. My brothers and I are indebted to a demon on account of a Pact our father made. We inherited his debt.”

If this surprised him, he did not show it. “You take no coin?”

“We had no interest in the soul brokerage business but for filling our father’s quota.”

They never charged coin. Luring people to the mirror out of necessity was one thing; profiting from it was quite another. Ben refused to sink so low, and Eda could not fault him. Local dealies rarely had much to spare anyhow.

“You refer to these matters in the past tense. Don’t leave me in suspense, young lady. What has happened to send you to my door?”

Eda recounted the bare necessities of all that’d transpired since Florian Fane arrived in Blackbridge. To repeat aloud her disastrous venture into Gaffham was humiliating; no doubt her cheeks were red as apples. Still, there was no point in hiding much from Severin Lich. This was not a man to play games with, and if he wanted her dead, she imagined Hillock would happily snap her neck before she even knew the order had been given. She hoped transparency would count for something.

When she was done, Lich leaned back, deep in thought. “Why tell me this, Miss Shaw?”

Her brothers would not want her to come here. They told her to flee Blackbridge—away from Wesland itself, if necessary; rather that than make even more deals with dangerous men. But Eda had only ever known allies that hid in shadow.

And Ben and Lawrie were not here.

“Florian Fane made a deal with the demon we know as Mr. Night. To drive the Faithless back to the templehouses and be the one to offer them protection. I don’t know how, exactly, but he plans to make himself a beacon against the demonic in Blackbridge, even if it means using a demon’s power to do it.”

“Mm, hypocrisy. A common ailment amongst the Faithhood.”

She grimaced. Hypocrisy is in your nature, Mr. Night had said. Eda thought herself exempt from this pitiless indictment of humankind, yet how quickly she’d come here, begging for a Pact, after scorning so many for just the same!

This is different. This is not avarice or vanity or rage. This is for Ben and Lawrie.

“You come bearin’ pertinent warnings, young lady. But whispers such as these would’ve reached me soon enough.” Lich raised his brow. The question was unspoken but painfully obvious: So what are you expecting in return?

Eda glanced about the room. She saw no Gateway. Nothing that looked like one, anyway. “I—I need to make a Pact.”

Lich stood. “I see.”

She tried not to panic. “I’ve no coin, but I thought…” What had she thought? That simply being the one to give Lich a heads-up about the bishop would be enough to earn use of his Gateway? It seemed like a child’s gambit now. “Please, Mr. Lich. I’ll work, whatever you want. If I could just make another Pact, then I might free my brothers—”

“I pity you. Truly.” Hillock refilled and lit Lich’s pipe. The crime lord leaned against his desk, blowing gray smoke. “Why should I not simply hand you over to the good bishop myself, Miss Shaw? I’ve no desire to make an enemy of the man. He’d be in my debt.”

Eda fought to keep her expression neutral, even as her heart strived to beat out of her chest. She recalled again what Mr. Night had said in the cellar. There is another of my kind, hiding somewhere in this very city.

“Mr. Night seeks another demon. He offered Fane a great boon in return for their demise.” Carefully, she bluffed, “The bishop intends to start his search with you. You are the only other soul broker in Blackbridge, after all.”

If anyone knew where the demon Mr. Night sought might be hiding, it would be Lich. The idea held water, and claiming Fane had already made the connection felt more like an educated guess than deceit. Surely enough to put Lich on his guard.

Dark eyes sharpened. “Fane said this?”

“That’s what I heard.” When Lich remained silent, Eda leaned forward, unwilling to let him overanalyze the lie. “The only debt Florian Fane is likely to honor is the one he owes to Mr. Night. Help me instead, Lord Lich, and when I free my brothers, I’ll find you the mirror too. I swear it.”

“The mirror?”

“Our Gateway. That is what you want, no? Unless you mean to tell me your people have been watching our shop for weeks due to a love of artisanal candles and rare taxidermy.” Lich smiled thinly, but he did not deny it. To own not just one but two artifacts so valuable, possibly the last in all Wesland…“Fane beat you to it, but he won’t destroy the mirror. He needs it to contact Mr. Night.” She raised her chin. “I’ll get it for you.”

“And what makes your word so dependable?”

“Because I don’t care about Gateways or coin or power. I just want my brothers. Betraying you would hardly help in that endeavor.”

Lich blew smoke through his nose. “Even if I wanted to help, Miss Shaw, no demon using my Gateway will agree to make a Pact with you. Not if this Mr. Night is who I suspect.”

“What do you—”