The Bargain

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The morning greeted him with cold, grim silence. Tallis pushed himself out of bed with a groan, hoping that things had solved themselves. They hadn't.

"One thing at a time," he told himself. Job one today was breakfast. Shockingly, there was still some food left. Considering how thoroughly Cold Iron had torn the house apart, he was shocked they had left him the bread and old cheese that they did.

He could almost hear Edward's voice in his head, "just knock the fur off of 'er and it's still fit to eat."

The memory sent a twinge of pain through his heart. They were still gone and he still had no idea how to save them. In all likelihood they were in the city, stewing in a holding cell inside the office. Of course, he'd been around Faerunners enough to know that there was no way he'd get in for a visit without being thrown into a cell himself. Maybe that was for the best, at least they'd be together.

He finished his meager breakfast and headed out to the barn. He opened the doors and nodded to the horses.

"Good morning, horses," he said. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

If the horses answered he would really freak out. He let the horses out of their stalls and turned them loose in the pasture.

"Um, okay, excellent," he said. "You have all the grass you can eat. It looks like there's a big barrel of water here for you to drink. That should be everything you need. Have a good day."

Fantastic. Two chores down, counting breakfast. Next he hobbled over to the chickens, threw them a handful of feed, had a minor breakdown that his entire life was in shambles, and then walked back to the pasture to watch the horses. Was this really how he was going to take this? Could he just sit and wait for Cold Iron to finish beating a confession out of his parents?

The soft crunch of gravel pulled him away from the answer churning in his mind and he turned to find a coyote stalking up the path to the house. The horses caught its scent and promptly lost their minds, running as fast as they could to the other end of the pasture. Tallis shuffled back, pressing himself into the fence. He was sure he was going to be eaten but with a flash of violet light the coyote blinked out of existence. In its place stood Callan holding an axe in one hand and his shotgun in the other.

"Good morning, Tallis," he said. His voice was low and threatening, almost a growl. "I'm here to make sure you and I will not have any problems."

If Tallis could have squished himself through the fence and run away with the horses, he would have. "No. There aren't any problems between us. Everything is fine."

"Are you sure? Because I am not very pleased with what I heard from you yesterday." He lowered the shotgun. "I want to like you, Tallis, really I do, you seem like a decent person. But you're pushing my limits."

"I don't understand. I'm not doing anything."

"You were going to betray us to that detective."

Tallis pointed back over his shoulder towards the house. "Well, I don't think you have to worry about that anymore. Cold Iron tore the house apart. My parents are in jail, probably."

Callan put his weapons away and his expression softened. It was either a look of sympathy or pity, Tallis couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Callan. "Truly, I am. The raids have been getting worse and worse. Those Agents are honourless rats. If they had the stomach to face us one on one they wouldn't have a hope of standing against us."

"I believe that. I don't think I've ever seen anything put an agent down in one shot before."

"That's Valerie's doing," Callan laughed. "You should see the rifle she uses. I'm sure it was built to knock dragons out of the sky or fell entire armies with one shot." He paused, looking at the nervous horses. "I'm sorry if I frightened your animals. Would you like help with your horses?"

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