Chapter 84: The Patron's Wrath
Silas Vane's departure left a vacuum in the room, instantly filled by Kael's unsettling presence. The white-blond man opened his mouth, no doubt to begin his sales pitch, but he never got the chance.
The door, which had just slammed shut, was thrown open again with enough force to crack the frame.
Patron Evander stood there, and he was furious.
He was not the calm, calculating art collector from his sun-drenched study. This man was a storm contained in silk. His silver-grey hair was slightly disheveled, his sharp features were taut with rage, and his eyes, usually so cold and assessing, burned with a cold fire. He was flanked by two of his private guards, the former imperial legionnaires Kael had mentioned. They didn't look bored now; they looked like they were one snapped finger away from painting the walls with our innards.
Evander's gaze swept the room, taking in Briza's incapacitated state, Laron's terror, my own battered condition, and finally, landing on Kael.
"You," Evander snarled, the single word dripping with venom. "Get out."
Kael, to his credit, didn't flinch. He merely offered a thin, unimpressed smile. "Patron Evander. I was just offering my…"
"I know exactly what you were offering," Evander cut him off, his voice low and dangerous. "A knife in the dark for the right price. Your services are not required. You are a contaminant. Leave this city by nightfall, or my men will find a more permanent solution to your unemployment."
The two guards took a single, synchronized step forward. The threat was absolute. This was not the City Watch; these were professionals, and they answered only to Evander.
Kael's smile didn't waver, but I saw a new calculation in his pale eyes. He was weighing his odds, and they were not good. He gave a slight, mocking bow. "As you wish, Patron. My offer stands, Kaizen. Should you find your current… management… lacking." With that, he slipped past the guards and out the door as silently as he had arrived.
The moment he was gone, Evander's full attention turned to me. The force of it was like a physical blow.
"You," he seethed, stepping so close I could see the fine lines of strain around his mouth. "I bring you into my city. I fund your… whimsical project. And in less than a week, you start a war in the streets! You use forbidden energies, destroy property, and draw the direct attention of Silas Vane! Are you utterly incapable of subtlety? Of thought?"
The accusation, the sheer ingratitude, after everything, ignited my own simmering anger. "I started a war?" I shot back, my voice rising to match his. "They weren't there for me! They were there to kidnap Elara! They ambushed us! What was I supposed to do, let them take her? Send a strongly worded letter?"
"You were supposed to be competent!" he roared. "You are an adventurer! A bodyguard! Dealing with thugs is supposed to be your singular talent! Instead, you flail about like a novice, using powers you clearly cannot control, making a spectacle that has now put my entire investment in jeopardy!"
"I saved the investment!" I yelled, gesturing to Briza's shivering form. "She took a blow meant for Laron! I used one of my own, personal, irreplaceable healing potions to save her! What more do you want from me? Should I have just died quietly in the alley to maintain your precious subtlety?"
We were nose to nose, two different kinds of predators snarling at each other. Laron had sunk into a chair, his face in his hands.
Evander took a sharp, controlling breath, reining in his temper with visible effort. The cold strategist reasserted himself over the furious investor.
"This changes nothing," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "The situation is untenable. Silas knows. He is emboldened. Silveridge is no longer safe for this project. You will gather the artist, her work, and the quill. You will all leave the city at first light. I have a remote estate to the north. You will continue your work there, in secrecy, until this blows over."
Run away. Hide. Let Silas Vane scare us out of our own venture. After all the blood and pain and lost resources. The thought was a poison in my gut.
"No," I said, the word flat and final.
Evander blinked, as if he'd misheard. "Excuse me?"
"I said no," I repeated, squaring my shoulders despite the ache. "We're not running. This is my project too. I'm not letting some two-bit crime lord chase me out of town like a whipped dog."
"This is not a negotiation!" Evander's control snapped again. "This is a matter of survival! You are a liability!"
"And you're a coward!" The words were out before I could stop them. The room went dead silent. Even Briza's tremors seemed to still for a moment. "You want the power of these stories, but you're not willing to get your hands dirty to protect them. You want to hide in your manor and wait for the storm to pass. Well, some of us have been living in the storm since we got here. I didn't survive a goblin cave and a beast horde to be scared off by a guy in a loud waistcoat."
I stepped back, my mind racing, a new, dangerous plan crystallizing. Evander was blinded by his own caution and arrogance. He saw Kael as a contaminant. I saw him as a resource.
"You want me to be competent? To handle this?" I said, my voice dropping to a low, intense tone. "Then let me handle it. My way. I'm not going to your estate. We're staying right here."
"And what is your brilliant plan?" Evander asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "To blast another city block to rubble?"
"My plan," I said, meeting his gaze without flinching, "is to find out who we're really dealing with. Silas Vane is a symptom. I need to find the source. And for that… I need information."
I turned and looked at the doorway where Kael had stood. The spymaster. The man who knew things he shouldn't. The man Evander had just run out of town.
"I'm going to find that man you just threatened," I declared. "He's the type to have information. And I'm going to get it."
Evander stared at me, a complex mix of fury, disbelief, and a grudging, horrified respect on his face. He saw the determination in my eyes and knew he couldn't order me anymore. I was no longer just a hired sword; I was a partner who had just declared his independence.
"You are a fool," he said, but the heat was gone from his voice, replaced by a cold resignation. "You will get yourself killed, and you will take my investment with you."
"Then it's a good thing it's only forty percent of your investment," I replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a spy to track down before he leaves the city."
I walked past him and his guards, out into the hallway, leaving the Patron standing amidst the wreckage of his plans. I didn't know how I was going to find Kael. I didn't know what I would do when I found him. But for the first time since arriving in Silveridge, I was done reacting. I was done being a piece on someone else's board.
It was time to start playing my own game.
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