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But I couldn’t go starting fires in town all the time. Big, towering flames and assassination wouldn’t solve every problem.

What could I do to stop Bolton from wanting to meet with Dullbright? It didn’t have to be a long-term solution. Just something that would get me some time. It shouldn’t be too hard; I’d spent years as Bolton’s student. I knew the man very well.

Ah.

“Did Overseer Bolton use a portal to get to Hogsfeate, or did he arrive by horse?”

“I can find out for you, Dark Lord.”

“Good. Sometimes he loves to travel by horse and take the scenic route. Something about having died once already and wanting to enjoy the world this time around. He also uses the same horse every time, one that he loves like a bloody child. Set the horse loose and then tell Bolton about it. He’ll chase it across the wasteland. Don’t harm the creature, though. We’re evil enough already, let’s not get a reputation for animal cruelty.”

“It will be done.”

“In the meantime, stay holed up in the chamber. Get one of your servants to send a message to Gulliver. If Gull comes to the palace, he can keep the overseer busy. He could talk the arse off a rock troll.”

“Very well, Dark Lord.”

Floating back into the meeting chamber in the Yondersun lodge, I found Galatee and Reginal waiting for me. Reginal was drumming his fingers on the table.

“Better things to do, Beno?” asked Galatee.

“Things to do, but I can’t say any of it is better.”

“We’ve just received some rather alarming information. The duke has already left Fort Smiten and is halfway across the wasteland.”

“There’s no way of stopping his visit, then.”

“It is as you said, Beno. He has a retinue of over two hundred soldiers with him.”

“Perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe the duke just needs a couple of hundred bodyguards. I mean, he doesn’t sound like the most likable of people.”

Galatee shook her head. “Everything is happening as you said. That much is clear. The duke will arrive in town, make an offer of friendship to us, and he will leave his soldiers in place whatever our answer is.”

“And that’s not all,” said Reginal. “He has a monster with him.”

“Now you’re being interesting. What kind of monster?”

“A great big fluffy yeti creature with three glowing eyes and two horns on its head. Like the one in your dungeon.”

“Like Razensen?”

“Yes! That’s the one.”

“Another bogan monster. Oh, hells.”

“This doesn’t fill me with confidence, Beno. If a monster worries you, then…”

“The bogan traveling with the duke must be Razensen’s brother.”

“Family reunion?”

“Not quite, unless your typical family reunions end in a bloodbath. Back home, Razensen is the heir to his people’s throne. His brother, Nazenfyord, murdered Razensen’s parents and tried to kill Razensen, but failed. Razensen has pursued him to the wasteland, set on killing him in the most gruesome way. It’s a noble quest.”

“We can’t have those two brutes fighting here. They’ll destroy half the town!”

“Half of it?” I said. “The violence of the bogans is legendary. When they get sufficiently angry, their eyes turn bright red, and they become filled with a lust for violence that cannot be quenched. Both brothers locked in combat in the middle of Yondersun…they’ll destroy everything.”

Reginal pounded the desk. “Then we must stop the duke and his beast from getting here!”

“How? We can hardly use force to turn him away because that would be an outright declaration of war, and it would give him an excuse to crush us. It’s only the fragile tapestry of Xynnar war laws that have kept him so polite thus far.”

“Then we send riders out to meet him and explain that he must turn back.”

“That won’t look well,” said Galatee. “He would be extremely suspicious of our reasons at best and may take it as outright hostility at worst. To refuse him our hospitality might provoke a battle.”

“We cannot use force, and we cannot use words,” said Reginal. “Damn this duke! What, then? Are we to pray to the gods for some kind of misfortune to befall them?”

“We might not need to pray,” I said. “Is the weathermage still in town?”

CHAPTER 5

The smells of cinnamon and honey-glazed pastries turning in bakery ovens tried to lure Gulliver away from his duties. They fought desperately to hold his senses hostage and drag him from his business, and gods damn it, they almost won. Gulliver wanted them to win, he was willing them on. You can do it!

No delicious pastry for him today, though. The sun had barely risen, and he was already behind schedule. He must have been the only man in Hogsfeate who was out before the early morning street sweepers and delivery boys, and who was still not done with his daily toil when the lamplighters strolled through the streets and spread their glows from lantern to lantern.

Hogsfeate was just waking up now. A quiet chatter came from the plaza some streets beyond, blocked from view by a huge apartment building. The rustle of a butcher brushing his stoop with a broom sent a shiver over Gulliver’s arms. He couldn’t say why. Some noises did that to him.

Heading toward Crooked Pass, Gulliver walked by Tumbold’s Tales and Tomes, a shop specializing in books of the entirely frivolous variety. Adventure books, cheap tales, pass-the-time parables. If a book contained facts of any kind, it had no place on Tumbold’s shelves. Beno would have loved it here. The damn core could probably spend all day in the quaint little bookshop.

That reminds me. It’s Beno’s Rebirthday soon. I must get him something nice.

Today, as with every single day that Gulliver walked this route to work, he saw a little boy standing outside the shop, his face pressed up against the window, breathing steam onto the pane and leering

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