68. THE DEAL WITH WARMONGER

Tyentso’s story

Grizzst’s Tower

After kicking Gadrith’s ass

“What the fuck happened here?” Tyentso asked as she took in the sight of Grizzst’s Tower burning.

Kalindra and Jarith had shown up a few seconds before she did, which had the entirely welcome side effect of making sure that she wasn’t met with a rain of spells when she arrived. Not because she was the enemy but because she couldn’t blame anyone for being jumpy under the circumstances.

Honestly, they were all just lucky that she hadn’t shown up with the whole damn Milligreest family. And she’d tried. Tyentso really had, because she was running out of places where she could stash the lot of them without worrying that they were still in the arrow’s path. So sure, why not the vané? But Qoran and Jira had both refused, which was when Tyentso learned that the only person in the universe stubborner than the high general was his damn wife. So they’d compromised.

Meaning the Milligreests had insisted on staying at the Capital to try to help deal with the rioting and restore order. Tyentso grew tired of arguing about it.

So anyway, it was just the three of them, facing off against Thurvishar and that white-skinned woman who’d betrayed them all at Atrine. The two wizards both stared at her with blank wariness, like deer that had just spotted a wolf.

Although most deer couldn’t toss out the kind of massively destructive spells that these two could, so maybe that was the wrong analogy. Tyentso was too fucking busy to run around trying to arrest terrorists, anyway.

“Not to agree with the bitch or anything,” Kalindra said, “but seriously, what the fuck happened here?”

“Rude,” Tyentso told her.

“Stop being such a bitch, then,” Kalindra said.

Tyentso didn’t take it personally. She knew exactly why Kalindra was so upset. “You’re not going to forgive me for putting the kids in danger, are you?”

“No,” the assassin growled. Then she jerked as if struck and gave Jarith a sullen look.1

“Relos Var’s what happened,” Thurvishar finally answered when it became obvious that Tyentso wasn’t about to launch directly into a mage duel. “He turned into a dragon and attacked the tower last night. Just saying hello, really.”

He continued to stack books and odd bits that had been recovered from the fire. The tower looked like a loss. It seemed like a damn miracle that any of it was still standing. They were rescuing what they could, although there was some sort of armored construct performing most of the work. Sensible and far less prone to blistering.

“Lovely,” Tyentso agreed. “Look, we should get this out of the way—”

The eidolon started moving toward Jarith, lightning-fast.

“Grizzst, no! That’s a friend,” Thurvishar called out.

The construct froze even as he was raising an arm that had started to glow, presumably a prelude to some sort of attack of extra-special usefulness against demons. “That’s a demon,” a voice corrected.

It both was and wasn’t a familiar voice. Tyentso was quite certain that she’d never heard it before. And yet …

The identity of that voice was one of those pieces of information the Crown and Scepter often provided unasked, like the floor plan of the palace or how to teleport anywhere in the empire in an instant. The Crown and Scepter knew his voice because it was the voice of their creator, Grizzst the Mad.

“Grizzst?” Tyentso said. “Named after or…” She narrowed her eyes. She’d never been entirely certain whether or not Grizzst was a myth until she’d become emperor, when the Crown and Scepter had confirmed his identity. Still, there were any number of explanations for the creature in front of her. Only one of those was “that is the actual wizard Grizzst.”

“No, that is the actual wizard Grizzst,” Thurvishar said.

Tyentso took a moment to process that. She suspected that she just didn’t have time to be fully briefed on all the shit going down with Kihrin and his friends in time for it to make a difference. She’d probably regret that later, but there was nothing for it. So Grizzst the wizard was also Grizzst the enchanted construct. Weird, but good to know.

“Hey, Grizzst,” Tyentso called out. “Leave my friend the fuck alone. I’m vouching for him. He’s one of the good demons.” She was pretty sure “good demons” was a category that currently contained only Jarith, but someone had to be the trendsetter.²

The suit of armor turned in her direction, toward Thurvishar and Senera, then finally stopped in front of Kalindra. “You. Whatever your name is. You seem sensible. Let me try this with you, since none of these assholes are listening. That’s a demon.”

“That’s my husband,” Kalindra said with stone-hard finality.

“Being a demon doesn’t mean what you think it means, Grizzst,” Senera said. “Damn it, we explained this to you. Please tell me you were listening.”

Personally, Tyentso would have used “that’s a demon” as a perfect setup to making a ribald joke about Jarith’s sexual prowess, but maybe that wasn’t a joke-worthy subject these days. Tyentso had no idea how that would work, anyway. Oh yes, also she hadn’t slept in a day, had she, because the sex lives of Qoran’s children wasn’t a subject that she wanted to speculate about or imagine, ever, which meant she must be exhausted.

Tyentso surreptitiously cast a rejuvenation spell on herself. She’d pay hell for it later, but she’d burn that bridge when she got to it.³

“Great, now that we have that settled…” Tyentso could only hope that saying it made it true. “Thurvishar, Gadrith’s dead. Again. Hopefully for good.”

Thurvishar froze, and his expression went through a dozen emotions before settling on “stoically concerned.” “He was Returned?”

“No more than he ever was,” Tyentso said. “But Grimward, you know? Anyway, as near as I can tell, after Thaena died, Relos Var must have just immediately tapped in to Grimward to summon up Gadrith from the Afterlife and pin his ass into a body. A body he no longer has, fortunately. I have his soul right here, though.” She pulled the small crystal sphere out of her top. “Maybe I can bribe one of you to tsali the fucker later, because I’d like to make a brooch.”

Thurvishar blinked, just once, at the small, glowing point of light. He looked exactly like a man who’d just found a great life-affecting event had both happened and been solved before he’d ever found out about it. Clearly, it was emotionally important to him, which Tyentso understood down to her bones, but also, he couldn’t do anything. It had already happened.

And hey, maybe it would have done Thurvishar good to have that final face-off with the bastard who’d raised him. But Tyentso didn’t think so. To her immense shock, her “son” had apparently managed to get through life with a sense of basic decency in spite of being raised by that monster.⁴ Thurvishar had somehow ended up as a genuinely good person. He didn’t need to get caught in all the anger and revenge of removing his kidnapper from the world. Maybe it was just enough to know the bastard was finally gone.

And anyway, Tyentso hadn’t known where to find Thurvishar.⁵

He nodded slowly. “I see. Yes, we should … we should do something about that.” He sounded a bit dazed.

“Thurvishar?” Senera put her hand on his arm.

“I’m fine.” He shook himself awake and looked down at the woman. They were standing a lot closer to each other than Tyentso would have thought appropriate for two people who had absolutely been enemies only a few weeks earlier. “Let’s get back to Teraeth and Janel. We can talk about the rest of this there.”

---

Tyentso whistled as she came out of the twirling circle of stars forming the edge of the vané gate system, the rising lights, the swirl of tree bark and plants, the smell of sap and fresh, sharp trees. “It’s nice to see the craftsmanship, you know?”

“Thank you,” Grizzst said primly.

Tyentso raised an eyebrow. She’d been trying to say something nice about the vané in the interest of diplomacy, so that was interesting.

There was a large contingent of vané soldiers with bows waiting for them on the other side, and wasn’t that just a kick? She couldn’t help but notice what a fantastic assassination method this would be. If she’d been any other Emperor of Quur, trying a stunt like this at any other time in the empire’s history …

Well. She’d have fucking deserved the early death, wouldn’t she?

Tyentso wasn’t sure what was more surreal, retreating to the capital of the Manol like she was stopping by for a cup of tea, or knowing that she was doing so as the Empress of Quur. Certainly not a situation she’d ever imagined in her wildest dreams back when she was the Misery’s weather witch.

The guards looked … exasperated. Tyentso had seen exactly that look on Kalindra’s face when she was teaching a class full of novices back on Ynisthana. Every disappointed parent in the universe knew how to make that expression.

“You want to see king?” one of the guards asked. His Guarem was … not great. Still, Tyentso understood the question, so clearly it was good enough.

Thurvishar smiled slightly and said in the vané tongue, “Yes, and it’s an emergency. He’ll wish to speak with these people right away.”

The guard clearly wanted nothing so much as to tell everyone there to fuck off. But this was evidently not the first time human visitors had shown up like this recently, because instead of making them wait or turning them away, he just motioned for everyone to follow him. “Yes, king left instructions. Please walk me.”

Tyentso gave a surreptitious glance at the others just in case any of them (Kalindra, possibly Senera) couldn’t follow what Thurvishar had said. Or laughed. No one looked confused.⁶

So what followed was an interesting walk through the palace (interesting in terms of breathtaking and magical, not interesting as in dangerous or eventful) before finally being shown into a palatial room that seemed half illusion, half priceless treasures.

And there Teraeth was, wearing a fucking crown.⁷ He wasn’t alone either; Tyentso saw Janel and someone who looked like Kihrin but couldn’t possibly be Kihrin. There were four other vané present, two women and two men, several of whom were giving her odd looks. That was normal enough, she supposed, what with this being the vané homeland and all. Less normal was Galen and Sheloran D’Mon, along with another Quuros man she didn’t recognize. Also.

Tyentso blinked. “Fayrin? What the fuck are you doing here?”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s a funny story…”

“We rescued him before Relos Var could kill him and replace him with a mimic,” Thurvishar explained. “Then we brought him here because we didn’t know what else to do with him. You can have him back now.”

“Thanks?” Fayrin said.

“Anytime,” Thurvishar responded.

Tyentso felt a curious kind of lurch, a wave of electric current washing over her body. Relos Var had targeted Fayrin? Why would Relos Var do that? Sure, they were lovers, but with Fayrin’s reputation, why would anyone ever think that their relationship meant anything at all? It was strictly physical, practically transactional. Why would anyone think that Tyentso cared?

Fuck. Did she care?

Tyentso tucked that question down deep and promised herself that she’d look at it again never. Anyway, Fayrin likely would’ve been targeted because of his proximity to her, regardless of the emotions involved. No reason to go looking for a deeper explanation than that.

Janel cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at Grizzst. “Who’s that?”

“Grizzst,” Senera said.

“I’m right here,” Grizzst said. “I can introduce myself.”

Senera waved him away like he was a small, annoying insect and not an oversize magical suit of armor who had all but founded the Empire of Quur.⁸

More than a few people in the room looked like they weren’t quite sure what to do with that information. Tyentso couldn’t blame them.

Janel apparently decided that the best course of action was just to ignore it. “Your Majesty, we need to talk about Warmonger.”

“You took the words out of my mouth,” Tyentso said. “But we need to find it first.”

Teraeth calmly walked over to stand in front of her. Kalindra was still at her back. Tyentso felt the tiniest chill as she realized she was standing between two Black Brotherhood members on foreign soil in a palace built by magic. If they decided Tyentso wasn’t their friend …

She was still the Empress of Quur. But she’d seen how fast Kalindra could move when she felt like it. Teraeth would be even worse.

He looked good, though. Unless one noticed how tired his eyes were.

“Tyentso,” Teraeth said gently. “Please don’t be offended. But do you have Warmonger?”

Tyentso scowled at him. “What the fuck? Of course I don’t have the stupid thing. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“The kind that isn’t assuming. You have to admit Warmonger has helped you stay in power,” Janel said. “I bet the assassination attempts have all but stopped, haven’t they? And no one questions your authority anymore.”

“That’s not a good thing,” Tyentso snapped. “And yes, the timing has been … advantageous. But I don’t know what the cost will be for all this ‘help.’”

“It’s addictive,” Senera explained matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean by ‘addictive’?” Tyentso asked, worried for reasons that seemed perfectly obvious.

“I mean that within a few hours of Warmonger being removed from Laragraen, all of its people and soldiers came down with a horrible, debilitating weakness that left them all but helpless when the Quuros army showed up,” Thurvishar said. “They couldn’t fight. They could barely walk.”

“Oh, I can vouch for this part,” Fayrin said. “It sucks.”

“Jira and Eledore started complaining about not feeling well not long after we left the Capital,” Kalindra said. “Frankly, I’m amazed Jira was able to stand when we were fighting Gadrith, but then again, she was really angry.”

“Did you say ‘Gadrith’?” one of the vané demanded.

Wait. Tyentso knew that voice. She blinked and gave the man a harder look. “Therin? Is that you?” She hesitated. “You shaved.”

Galen D’Mon coughed into his fist.

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?” Therin snapped, before narrowing his eyes. “Raverí? That is you, isn’t it?”

She wrinkled her nose. Tyentso supposed she had looked different the last time she’d seen him. “Yes, and yes, I’m the emperor, and yes, it’s weird for me too.” She waved a hand. “We’ll catch up later, okay? Right now, we have more important things to worry about.”

“And Gadrith?” Therin crossed his arms over his chest.

“Not even on the list, hilariously enough,” Tyentso said. “Now can we please get back to talking about Warmonger and it being addictive?”

“Thank you,” Thurvishar said. “So as I was saying, if the person who has Warmonger wants to cripple the Quuros army, all they have to do is leave. Within a few hours, everyone previously under the Cornerstone’s effects will be too sick to fight.” He gave Tyentso a pointed look. “I agree with the others that it’s not completely out of character for you to use something like Warmonger if you had access.”

“You used to like me better, Thurvishar. What happened between us?” Tyentso said.

“You killed my adoptive father?” Thurvishar raised an eyebrow.

She stared at him. “How is that a mark against me?”

“You didn’t invite me to help,” he elaborated.

Tyentso sighed. Apparently, he was going to hold a grudge about that.

“But I also know that you’d never make a deal with Relos Var. And if you had Warmonger, you’d be carrying it on you,” he continued, ignoring her interruption.

“And you’re not,” said the person who looked like but wasn’t Kihrin.

Tyentso squinted at him. That had to be an illusion, right? There’s no way that Teraeth would ever be working with a mimic …

“I can confirm,” Kalindra said. “She’s not working with Relos Var. He wouldn’t have raised Gadrith D’Lorus from the dead to try to pry Godslayer out of her hands if he could just order her to hand the sword over. Although she did do that, just under duress.”

A couple of people in the room reacted with scowls and curses to that news, but not Teraeth. And not Janel. Or Thurvishar and Senera.

It was interesting to note the people who were in on the plan versus those who were not.

“Well, as I’m in the middle of a war,” Tyentso said, “I need to find out where Warmonger is and either get rid of it before it does more damage or make sure they can’t remove it from the area until after we’ve finished this business with Marakor.” She thought over that idea. “Ideally, the latter one. The whole thing makes my skin crawl, but I’d rather fight a war using paranoid fanatics than medical patients too weak to get out of bed.”

“Speaking of,” Fayrin said, “when was the last time you slept?”

Tyentso waved a hand at him. Honestly. He needed to stop trying to be her nanny. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Next to Thurvishar, Senera gave Fayrin a hard look.

**I can find Warmonger,** Jarith offered.

It was almost as funny this time, watching who lost their minds about the demon in the room and who didn’t seem to care. Almost.

Mostly, it was getting old.

“Enough,” Teraeth said, and his voice echoed in a way that seemed to override all others. Tyentso pursed her lips. It had to be that chair. “Jarith’s on our side. Yes, he’s a demon. Yes, we know. Yes, we trust him. You can save yelling at us for later, or better yet, just shut up and trust that if he was a threat to us, we’d have destroyed him already.” He tilted his head toward Jarith. “You were saying?”

**I can find Warmonger.**

Janel frowned like a disapproving older sister. “You can’t track a Cornerstone.”

**No. But the emotions it engenders are strong. They have a motion, a current. I can follow that current to its source.**

“And now you’re my new favorite Milligreest,” Tyentso said. “I’ll happily help the rest of you with whatever horse business you’re all doing, but please help me wrest back control of my army first.”

She removed Skyfire from her raisigi and set it, balanced on an edge, on one of the tables. “Now. I think this should serve as collateral on my good intentions, don’t you agree?”