My mouth was dry. I tried to swallow and failed. I hoped I wasn’t giving up a tell.
Or maybe he took it as his due.
“That’s essentially it,” I said.
“I am inevitable, much as Death is. Eternal. You can’t expect to win.”
“I don’t,” I said. “Not really.”
I was attacking him on three fronts. Or trying to, in any event. Attacking his nature as Conquest, giving him a chance to crush me. Attacking his insecurity, using the fact that he couldn’t let on how weak he really was… and I was hoping that there was a little something human in him, something that struggled against the boredom that came with eternity. Would he find this interesting? A riddle or a mystery?
I looked at Rose, who knelt on the floor, drawing a circle around the bookstand in chalk.
“One minute and thirty seconds,” Laird intoned.
“We will decide the terms before the time is up,” Conquest said.
He was game?
He was willing to play ball.
I couldn’t bring myself to be happy. Or I could, but it was a dim thing, lost in the midst of the tension and quiet terror.
“Let’s,” I said, my voice tight.
“What form shall this contest take? Chess? A musical duel?”
“I was thinking something more fitting for you, Lord of Toronto.”
“Dispense with the flattery.”
“Fine. The contest… two sides. One king, five champions. First king to topple the other wins.”
“You would go to war against me?”
“Neither king can make deliberate use of power while fighting in Toronto. We can’t retreat to our personal realms. This should be a more even contest, more about our leadership and the ability to use our Champions than about the power we wield.”
“You want to cripple me, while negating the effect your own weakness has on things.”
No.
“In a sense,” I said. “This contest is about leadership, using the resources we have available.”
“Very well.”
That was the gravy. The tidbit I offered to him as bait.
I knew full well that he had power he could leverage that was intrinsic. Ambient. He knew it, and he perhaps thought he was getting one over on me. He was Conquest and he used power just by being. I handed him this advantage because it got him on board, and it paved the way for future discussion.
I knew there were a dozen ways he could bend the rule.
But I had him listening, playing ball.
“A king must either surrender or be slain by the hand of the opposing king or that king’s champions,” I said. “When it’s done, the contest is won.”
“Agreed.”
More gravy. Conquest couldn’t die. I could. He had two ways to win, I had the one. He was also very good at getting people to surrender.
“We pick our champions. Taking turns.”
“If the champions don’t agree?” Conquest asked.
“Then they don’t agree, and you have an uncooperative champion,” I said.
“Fair. I will pick first as the challenged.”
Damn.
“Agreed,” I said. It wasn’t worth fighting over.
“Thirty seconds until the imp is free,” Laird said.
“You don’t impede my exit, nor my champions, before… let’s say one hour from now.”
“Very well. What of the others?” Conquest asked. “The ones outside?”
“You forfeit your power over anyone who isn’t one of your champions. You don’t have to announce it, because a mutiny wouldn’t be keeping with the spirit of the contest, but you can’t order the supernatural residents of Toronto either, directly or by proxy. Only your champions can be commanded, and only the champions or you can seize victory, or it’s not your victory. Everyone outside remains in play, and can be convinced to join one side or the other. Neither of us are liked, so it effectively levels the playing field.”
“A little extreme,” Conquest said. “If you fight me without the forces at my disposal, are you truly besting me?”
“It’s the metaphorical chess game,” I said. “We have the board, we each have the same number of pieces. It’s a question of how well those pieces are used.”
“I cannot forfeit all of my power over others, diabolist. It is a part of me.”
“You can decline to exercise it,” I said.
“I am not one for even contests.”
I know, but this isn’t as even as you’re pretending it is.
“Then pick your champions well.”
He stared down at me. Then lowered his head a fraction. “I’ll accept with a condition. When I’ve won the contest, I can demand what I want of you.”
Fuck me. I was expecting that, and it still almost knocked the wind out of me to hear it.
Fuck me. Fuck.
It was scary, and it was almost as bad as falling victim to the lawyers.
“When-” I found my mouth dry. The Eye was still here, the air was hot, and I was nervous. I couldn’t speak for a moment.
“Time’s up. The imp is free,” Laird said.
On cue, the book’s bindings opened.
Had Rose finished the circle?
She had. A simple one.
The book unfolded, and Pauz rose out of it, tearing his arms and tiny horns free of the tendrils of ink that stuck to the book itself.
He looked around.
“Hm,” he said, in the voice that didn’t fit his small body. He perched on the edge of the bookstand and looked down. “Hmm!?”
“The circle was the Lord’s action, not mine,” I said.
“The circle was drawn by your hand. You betrayed your word when your mouth spoke of my secrets to Conquest. I can see, and I am aware.”
Rose’s hand was my hand, her words my words?
Damn it.
“The hand was forced to move. It was the Lord’s action,” Rose said. “The mouth was forced to speak.
Pauz hopped, turning. It pointed an accusing finger at Rose. “It speaks! I might call you forsworn, Thorburn. Mere excuses.”
He looked at me, pointing with his other finger. He screeched, “Are you forsworn!? Defend yourself!”
Fuck me. I hadn’t expected this angle.
I managed to hold my composure. “By the terms of our contract, you can take this dispute to a neutral third party. Your argument would be a hard sell, I think. I’m not responsible for what the Lord of Toronto does, after I brought you to him.”
“You are if you led him to this path,” Pauz growled.
“I speak honestly when I say I didn’t plan for or want this.”
“Why am I bound?” Pauz asked, his eyes falling on Conquest. “Why take me if you would bind me fast?”
“You are of little interest,” Conquest said. “I had no real plans to release or use you.”
Conquest spread massive arms with draping sleeves knit of his own skin, as if embracing his realm, the scene. “This is a tableau. I will use the Thorburn diabolist to summon dark powers to my realm, and I must set the stage accordingly.”
“You had me fight those fucking things so they could be props?” I asked.
Conquest’s voice was deep, imperious. “I had you fight them for many reasons, diabolist. They will put all visitors into a particular frame of mind. I did it to weaken you, to distract while I made use of your Rose. I did it to better secure my realm from rogue agencies, and for other reasons besides.”