Faithful Servants Read Online Free PDF Page B

pain.”
    Works for me, thought Salim, but he knew the eidolon would never stand for it. Besides, there was no telling what sort of backlash the expiring spell might generate.
    Beyond the window, dozens of feet crunched on gravel.
    “I have a suggestion.”
    Both Mirosoy and Salim turned to look at Connell. The eidolon was holding up a hand, as if waiting to be called on. Salim nodded.
    “I have a suggestion,” the eidolon said again. With one three-fingered hand, he reached up and touched the amulet hanging from his serpentine neck.
    And then there was no Connell. Only a second Mirosoy.
    Salim understood immediately. “Connell—” he began.
    “They’re looking for the master,” the eidolon said firmly. “If we give them one, maybe they’ll go home.”
    “They’re a mob,” Salim pressed, throat suddenly tight. “Even if they think Mirosoy’s gone, they’ll burn this place down anyway.”
    “Then you’ll have to stop them.” The eidolon held out a hand. “Goodbye, Salim. Thank you.”
    The hand hung there, unmoving. After an eternity, Salim stepped forward and took it. They shook.
    Connell looked to Mirosoy.
    “It’s good to have you back, Master.”
    Then the eidolon walked out of the room and was gone.
    Silence reigned as the two men stood looking at the door where the second Mirosoy had disappeared. Finally Salim spoke.
    “If you lived a thousand years,” he said slowly, “you would still be unworthy of that love.”
    “What?”
    Salim’s glance flicked sideways to the noble.
    “That sacrifice. For you.”
    Mirosoy seemed genuinely puzzled. “It’s an eidolon,” he said. “I made it to protect me. When it’s gone, I’ll make another.”
    Salim stared at him.
    Outside, the crowd roared.
    ∗∗∗
    Three empty cups stood at parade rest on the wooden table. A fourth, only halfway drained, stood before them, the officer addressing its troops.
    Salim took another drink. Around him, the familiar buzz of the Clever Endeavor continued as usual, a dozen conversations that never happened, between people who were never here and had never met. This time, no one was looking at Salim. That suited him fine.
    The wood between his elbows was stained dark with spilled wine. Salim grimaced and set his mug down on top of the splotch, but the cup wasn’t quite big enough to hide it from view.
    Connell hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t made a sound at all. By the time Salim reached the front door of the manor house, passing corpses which lay motionless without the crown’s animating touch, the worst was over. The bravest of the mob was still hacking away with hoes and scythes, while others shouted encouragement. At some point, someone tore away the amulet to reveal the eidolon’s true form, which Father Adibold loudly proclaimed a sign that the noble had been a monster all along.
    And then, finally, it was over. With a last gasp from the crowd, the eidolon’s body disappeared. Only the bloody stain on the gravel drive remained.
    Still giddy with the ease of their victory, the mob might have indeed charged the manor, had Salim not chosen that point to reveal himself. Stepping forth to address Father Adibold by name, Salim announced that the evening’s festivities were over, and that he’d dealt with the rest of the lord’s creatures himself.
    A few of the mob, drunk on blood, had yelled abuse. Salim raised his still-glowing sword, and the newfound bravery dissipated. With Father Adibold at its head, the crowd turned and made its way back toward town. In no time at all, Salim was alone on the driveway. Just him and the stain Connell had left behind.
    A single torch, dropped by a villager, still sputtered in the dirt. Salim bent down and picked it up. He looked up toward the manor window, where the red lights still played.
    He could finish things. Mirosoy had perverted the corpses of innocents, and attempted to do the same to himself. Salim had executed men for less. He could set the torch against one of the