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10. Price of Freedom

  Tristis couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You want to negotiate with Rastane?"

  "There's no other way," his master replied.

  He scratched his head for an out. "Let's take a day to think this through. Maybe something will come to us."

  "Every day matters," Kyra said, her voice fading into a murmur. "Every day is precious."

  His master was good at hiding her feelings, but he still caught a glimpse of the guilt and anxiety behind her eyes. She blamed herself for his slow development. The way he understood it, she considered it her responsibility to heal him during training. But that branch of magic seemed to be a particular weakness of hers.

  Which was why he'd been training extra hard at home and meditating in every spare moment of the day. If he could improve his mana to the point where it never ran out during a dungeon raid, that would ease a burden off his master's shoulders. It was his duty as a disciple to support her in whatever way he could.

  And now that duty meant talking her out of trying to make a deal with Rastane. She didn't understand the danger she was walking into. The man could coax a snake into drinking its own venom.

  "There has to be another way to do this." He suggested, "What if we hide Lori away?"

  "You think he's just going to let one and a half million cords disappear?" she replied.

  "Earlier you said that we'd only have to cover the interest for a couple of months. That's when we'll have the funds to pay him off, isn't it? He won't care about her once he has his money back."

  "What about her mother?"

  The question gave him pause. She was right. That was the weak point in this plan.

  He turned to Lori. "Tell me about these rules. Maybe we can find a way around them."

  "We aren't talking about a legal contract here," Kyra interjected. "You understand that, don't you?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "Do you think she's working here by choice?"

  It took him a moment to grasp the implications behind her question. He turned to Lori to see if it was true and she just nodded somberly.

  Appalled, he turned back to Kyra. "But that's—"

  "Illegal?"

  He looked around at the other servers walking about the booths. Most were women, though there were a few men. Were they all in Lori's situation? He couldn't tell from looking at them. The smiles at these establishments always felt fake to him.

  "Are you telling me that Rastane . . ." His stomach churned just pushing out these words. ". . . buys people?"

  "I don't imagine it's anything as straightforward as that," Kyra replied. She turned to Lori. "Why don't you explain the situation?"

  Lori had been sitting there quietly for some time now. When she spoke, her voice was subdued, like she'd come to the realization that the odds of these two strangers being able to release her from her circumstances weren't so good.

  "I get a discount on the interest if I work for him. It would be impossible to pay him back otherwise."

  Kyra turned to him. "What do you think?"

  He shook his head. "It's a trap, isn't it? I don't see how she ever clears the loan."

  "It doesn't make sense, does it?"

  "He's a scumbag. It's how he operates."

  "Think about it again," his master said sharply. "Rastane hands out loans expecting to make a profit. Yet everything he's done with this one is making him lose money."

  Now that he thought about it, he couldn't see how making Lori waitress at his nightclub could be a good use of one and a half million cords. And there was something else about it that didn't make sense.

  "He should be worried about being repaid," he said. "Paying for the medical flight would be a no-brainer. The money going to the hospital in Salomanta is money that could be going to him."

  "Curious, isn't it?" Kyra turned to Lori. "Why dont you tell us what's really going on?"

  Lori shook her head. "I honestly don't know."

  Kyra stared at the young lady for a moment before turning her scrutiny back to Tristis. "Are you prepared to negotiate with Rastane now?"

  He couldn't see any way to avoid it. But he also couldn't see any good coming from it.

  "We don't have anything to offer on our side of the table," he pointed out.

  "I don't suppose . . ." Lori began.

  They both turned to her.

  "Do you have a suggestion?" Kyra asked encouragingly.

  Lori shook her head. "I was thinking that there would be nothing more valuable than magic. But teaching Rastane is off the table, isn't it?"

  "I'm afraid it is," Kyra replied.

  "He's going to eat us alive," Tristis said. "A man like him thrives on other people's weaknesses."

  "Then we play to our strengths," she replied. "Your parents swing a lot of influence in Lacris-Cheree."

  "They would never agree to any dealings with that crook," he protested.

  "He need not know that, nor will we make any promises on their behalf. Your parents are just the ticket through the door, but it will be I who make the delivery. We just have to find out what he wants."

  His head drooped into his hands. It seemed they were going in there no matter what.

  Kyra leaned forward across the table. "You wanted to know what the future has in store for you, dear disciple? You'll be facing monsters far more venomous than Rastane, and I don't mean at the end of a stick. You'll be flung into a pit of schemers, liars, manipulators, and thieves. Think of this crook as a practice hurdle on your way to the big leagues."

  It was hard to imagine a crook worse than Rastane. But he supposed that his master was right. Everything he knew about the man had come from his parents, and there had probably been an element of overprotectiveness there, like bogeyman stories to keep children from wandering lost into a forest.

  Tristis pushed down all his concerns and rose to his feet. "I'll go request an audience."

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  Beside the bar was a door labeled for authorized personnel only. He approached the large man standing guard.

  "I'd like to speak with Mister Rastane about paying off a loan," he said.

  "And you are?" the bouncer asked.

  "Tristis Montgomery." Then he added, "It's someone else's loan."

  Momentarily he prevaricated about namedropping his dad, but the bouncer had already given him a "wait here" and disappeared through the door.

  Standing there, he felt himself under the watchful eye of the bartender and another bouncer by the bar. He'd never seen this level of security at any other nightclub.

  The large bouncer returned. "The boss will see you."

  He turned around and waved the others over. As they approached, the bouncer pointed at Kyra.

  "Who's she?" the man asked.

  "She's with me," he replied.

  The bouncer jerked his thumb at Lori. "It her loan?"

  "That's right."

  "Then she comes. But—" The bouncer pointed at Kyra again. "She stays."

  He looked helplessly at his master, who calmly slapped his shoulder. "You'll do fine. Just keep your wits about you."

  It felt like the floor had fallen away beneath him. But it was too late to back down now.

  He proceeded after the bouncer through the door, and Lori followed closely behind. They turned a corner and reached a flight of stairs. Waiting at the top was another guard, this one with a scar running down beneath his ear to his chin. His face seemed to be a permanent scowl that had been carved in by an artist who sculpted gargoyles by day.

  The bouncer patted them down before letting them up the stairs toward scar, who didn't bother to acknowledge them as he opened the door and escorted them into the next room.

  They walked through a small office with four tables pushed together in the center, where a group of men were counting cash. It was more cash than a nightclub could possibly bring in in one night. Even a year wouldn't be enough.

  Seated at a corner of the table was a man making marks on a ledger as he divided stacks of banded notes among a row of suitcases. He glanced up briefly when they passed, his eyes lingering on Lori, before returning to his task.

  In this room there were five other doors, all closed. The two on the left had extra locks on them, and the windows to those rooms had been replaced with wooden paneling.

  Tristis hardly had time to process all this when they arrived at the door on the far end. The guard knocked and waited for an answer before opening it for them to enter.

  This was Rastane's office. The man himself hit them with a wide, toothy grin from across his mahogany desk and rose to meet them.

  "Mister Montgomery!" Rastane said. "Miss Gascoigne! It's always a pleasure. Can I offer you a drink?" He was already at his minibar, three glasses in hand, and pouring from an expensive bottle. "The finest whiskey, imported from across the channel."

  It felt rude to turn it down now that it had been poured, so he accepted the glass. Beside him Lori did the same.

  Two wooden chairs had already been put out for the guests. But instead of inviting them to sit, Rastane leaned casually against the backs like they were three friends catching up at a bus stop.

  "How is your brother doing, Mister Montgomery? I heard about the fire. A terrible tragedy."

  "Sam is recovering well," he replied. "He's been luckier than others."

  Rastane nodded amiably. "We're in the process of reassessing all our venues to ensure we're up to code. Such a tragedy won't be allowed at any of our establishments, I can assure you."

  The man seemed so earnest that Tristis almost believed it.

  Rastane had already turned his attention to Lori. "And Miss Gascoigne. Has there been any improvements in your mother?"

  "No, sir," Lori replied quietly.

  "She's a fighter. She beat the odds on the treatment, and I'm sure she'll beat the odds again."

  It was hard to reconcile the man before him with all the rumors. His parents never told him much about Rastane beyond the stern and repeated warnings to stay away from his establishments. But sometimes he caught his parents discussing matters when they thought he wouldn't hear.

  The picture in his mind of a businessman engaged in bribery and extortion and shady dealings looked nothing like the man himself. Could he have misunderstood his parents?

  Rastane's attention turned back to Tristis.

  "Your father has been trying to muster support for a new hospital in the eastern suburbs. A man of the people, he is. But the government purse strings are tight, and it doesn't look like it's going to get built. I've offered to come on as a sponsor and maybe pull in some other donors with me. But your father is a proud man. Too proud. He turned me down."

  All this was said in a light-hearted manner, like a story of a bungled sale told around the water cooler, though the tone flattened somewhat toward the end.

  "My dad has always been a stickler against the mingling of public and private interests," Tristis replied, trying to lift the mood again.

  Rastane took a swig from his glass, and his eyes seemed darker than before. "I find that people misunderstand the sort of person I am. They see a ruthless businessman. They worry I'll climb on top of them. They think I'm all about the money. That I hoard it like some evil dragon."

  He wandered around his desk until he stood beside his highback chair. "I spend my money. That's a way of giving back, isn't it? It puts the money back into the pockets of the citizens of Charais Gamor."

  And distilleries across the channel, Tristis thought to himself.

  "I like helping people," Rastane continued. "I like making dreams come true. Don't I, Lori?"

  Lori was looking down at her feet, drink untouched. "Yes, sir."

  The answer seemed to satisfy something in Rastane, who gestured openly to the chairs. "Please, have a seat," he said before taking his own.

  When they took their seats, Tristis noticed that beside the door they'd entered from was an armed bodyguard. The man was so discreet that he'd completely missed him.

  Once they'd all settled, Rastane turned his attention on Tristis, who suddenly felt like a caged rat under the scrutiny of a hungry cat.

  "I've been told that you'd like to clear someone else's debt. Is it for Miss Gascoigne here?" The loan shark smiled affably at Lori, who was sitting rigidly with her hands between her knees. "She's quite the treasure, isn't she? My brother never had much of an eye for women, so he really surprised me with this one."

  "Your brother is involved in this?" he asked.

  "She hasn't told you?" Rastane regarded Lori with the amusement of a parent who'd caught a child out on a harmless lie. "I turned down her loan. As much as I like to help those in need, I do need to get my money back in the end. And how do you expect a lady like dear Miss Gascoigne here to ever make up one and half million cords in her lifetime?"

  "Then how—"

  "My brother intervened. It seems he's quite smitten with her."

  Tristis glanced at Lori, who was pointedly avoiding his gaze.

  He'd been around the block enough to understand what was happening. Rastane was adding weight to the scales. Signaling that the price for Lori's release was going to make one and a half million cords feel like a bargain.

  But what really knotted his stomach was the realization of what it meant for Rastane to be entertaining this negotiation at all. There was something the other man wanted from him—something worth more than everything else on the scales.

  And that wasn't a good feeling at all.

  Rastane got to his feet and went back over to the minibar.

  "How could I say no?" he said. "I'd do anything for my brother. As you would do anything for yours, Mister Montgomery. And Miss Gascoigne would do anything for her mom. There's nothing more important to us Gamorese than family, is there? As a people, it's our greatest strength. And our biggest weakness."

  He poured himself another drink from the same bottle and then, instead of returning to his seat, wandered over to their side and leaned against the desk.

  Tristis felt suffocated. The man was still smiling, still outwardly jovial, but it had a different quality to it now that he loomed over them.

  "I have a proposal before the city," Rastane said. "A casino on the riverfront. An investment that will bring in tourists and cords from across the globe. It will cost the fine residents of Lacris-Cheree nothing. All the city has to do is stamp the paperwork. But I keep putting it up and they keep knocking it back. It's like the pencil pushers who run our city don't like money."

  Tristis could see where this was going. "My dad doesn't have anything to do with development approvals."

  "Son, you don't believe that and neither do I."

  The mirth was gone, off like a switch, and all that was left were the teeth bearing down on them.

  Tristis's mouth ran dry, and he took a swig from the glass as it was all he had on hand.

  "I'm afraid you're overestimating me," he replied. "I don't have that kind of influence on my parents."

  "Don't sell yourself short, son," Rastane said, the switch suddenly back on. "You just have to present it to your parents the right way, and I can help with that. What do you say?"

  He would have said it was impossible. Dad would never allow a casino in Lacris-Cheree. But if it was Rastane's words with him as a mouthpiece, it might very well be possible.

  But it would be a betrayal of everything his parents had ever done for him. Just being in this room with the crook was bad enough. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it.

  There had to be another way.

  "How serious were you about the hospital?" he said at last.

  There was a brief pause and then Rastane laughed.

  "Son, you came up here to ask me to give up on money that I've loaned out. And the deal you're offering involves me giving away even more of my money?"

  He had no reply to that. It really felt like the only road to Lori's freedom passed through that casino.

  After giving Tristis a moment to stew in his own thoughts, Rastane spoke up again, this time in a gentler voice.

  "I'll tell you what, Mister Montgomery. I really meant it when I said I know how to share. And I know how important family is to all of us. I understand that Miss Gascoigne's mother requires ongoing care. And it's expensive. So I'll cut you in on the deal. How does a five percent profit share sound? And of course I'll cover Mrs Gascoigne's medical expenses until the casino opens."

  His master had sent him up here to negotiate Lori's release from her debts. This deal gave them everything. Lori's mom would get looked after. Lori would be free.

  All he had to do was say yes.

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