Lisa Shearin - Con & Conjure

“How much is in there?”

“The last time I checked, it was in the area of thirty million kugarats.”

I whistled.

“The goblin army is doing most of the manual labor on the Gate?” Mago asked.

“As far as I know.”

“Do you know how the goblin army is paid and from what source?”

“No, but I could find out. Or better yet, you could ask Tam—and tell him precisely who you are. That’d make me coming to visit you a lot simpler.”

Mago looked like he’d swallowed a bug. “You’re quite serious, aren’t you?”

“Deadly serious. After what happened this morning, we don’t have time for your prim-and-proper banker act. If necessary, keep it going for the prince, but Tam needs to know the truth.”

“And you know Chancellor Nathrach how well?”

“ Very well.” I proceeded to give Mago the shortened version of meeting Tam two years ago in Mermeia, up to sharing an umi’atsu bond with him until a month ago. The only person who knew Tam better than me was Imala Kalis and Tam himself.

“And having been chief mage to the goblin queen for five years, Tam would know where Sathrik gets his money right down to the pocket change he keeps on the royal nightstand.”

“Men—even disciplined soldiers—will work only so fast if their pockets are empty,” Mago said. “It won’t matter what psychotic goblin mage is cracking the whip. But first I need to know where the king keeps the money that he uses to pay his army. No doubt he pays them from the palace treasury, but he has to replenish that from somewhere.”

“If you don’t know about it, chances are it’s not from your bank.”

Mago took a sip and smiled like a man with a secret, the fun kind. “I have friends, in banks all over the world, who would be only too glad to help a colleague in need. In fact, they might even be willing to help with our noble cause.” He winked. “Especially if there was something in it for them.”

I knew I shouldn’t be surprised, but I had to ask. “Does everyone in this business need their palms greased?”

“Only if you need something from them in return.”

I pushed the now empty plate away from me and sat back in the plush chair with a satisfied sigh. I’d been hungrier than I’d thought. “I need to know the details of your plan for Taltek Balmorlan and Carnades Silvanus. Intercepting Sathrik’s payroll is critical, but I need Carnades’s wings clipped. Now.”

“I take it from that vindictive gleam in your eyes that the trouble you encountered this afternoon involved Silvanus’s colleague Inquisitor Balmorlan?”

“Correct.” Though at the thought of who Balmorlan had been hiding and paying, my face did a little wince and cringe. Mago most definitely knew about Rache Kai. They had been friends and Mago had been the one who introduced us. He’d never forgiven himself for that—or Rache. I hadn’t been the only one Rache had fooled. Mago swore that no one would ever fool him again, and no one ever had.

Mago sat perfectly still, the firelight glinting on his spectacles. “What is it?”

I told him.

You don’t usually think of bankers as being the types to cuss a blue streak, but there weren’t that many bankers with the last name Benares, either.

Let’s just say that Mago did the family name proud.

“You think Balmorlan hired Rache?” he asked.

“I don’t have proof, but Rache’s trail went cold on Embassy Row. Both the elves and goblins had defensive wards up and at full power, but I can’t see Imala’s people taking out a hit on the prince.”

“Unless she has some double agents in her midst,” Mago countered. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but why would Balmorlan want the prince dead?”

“Simple. Balmorlan and Carnades want war; Chigaru in power means peace.”

Mago set his glass aside and stood up. “Well, let’s see what we can do to put Inquisitor Balmorlan up to his eyebrows in hot water.”

“More beautiful words were never spoken. And if you can pull it off, consider it my birthday present for the next ten years.”

“The satisfaction of a sting well done and no shopping for ten years.” Mago smiled broadly. “How can any man refuse such an offer?”

I grinned. “That’s my offer, now what is your plan for after you’ve drained Balmorlan’s account?”

“I opted not to pursue that option.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “ Opted not—”

“Never commit yourself to one course of action when a better one may have just come available.”

“May have.”

Mago held up a hand. “Hear me out, cousin. I don’t do anything without a reason—or at least a hunch I can hang my hat on.” He sat down in the chair next to mine. “Phaelan tells me that you have an impeccable glamour.”

Oh crap. “Not impeccable, just decent.”

“From what he told me, you could fool anyone, anytime.” Mago had a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Including a man’s wife.”

“I’d really rather not glamour myself into a man again.”

“You want Taltek Balmorlan to hoist himself on his own petard?”

“Of course I do, but—”

“But nothing.”

He was right. I didn’t like it, but he was right. When I said I’d do anything to put Balmorlan out of commission, I’d meant it. It just didn’t occur to me that would involve acquiring dangly bits again.

“Any chance I could do this glamoured as a woman?”

“None. Two weeks ago, Taltek Balmorlan requested a meeting with a D’Mai banker. An obnoxious little worm named Symon Wiggs.”

“Sounds like someone Balmorlan would want for a banker.”

Mago smiled. “True, except Symon isn’t his banker. Like myself, Symon Wiggs has various profitable outside interests. In Symon’s case, he represents a Nebian criminal cartel. When these men need money handled, shall we say ‘cleanly,’ Symon is their go-to man.”

“So what does this have to do with Balmorlan?”

“Balmorlan wants to make the cartel an offer, something he seems to think they would be salivating to acquire.”

I didn’t like where this was going. “What is it?”

“I don’t know; but I do know that for him to contact Symon and request a meeting in person, there’s a great deal of money involved. In fact, Symon would have been on the same ship as me.”

“Let me guess, something came up at the last moment and he couldn’t make it.”

“Just me intercepting the invitation. After reading it, I arranged for Symon to do an audit at our Jebas branch.” Mago lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “A vice president there owes me a favor, and I called it in.”

“Clever.” I gave him a tired smile. “Thank you, Mago. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate—”

Mago actually blushed a little then waved me off. “You would have done the same for me.”

“Except I don’t have bank vice president friends in tropical resorts.”

“I’m sure you could come up with something equally creative and effective if I needed it.” Mago reached forward and selected a chocolate from the dessert tray. “And after the audit, my friend will reward Symon with a week in the Jebas’s most notorious pleasure palace and casino.” Mago popped the chocolate in his mouth. “He’ll be calling in a few favors to make that happen.”

“So you’re going to owe him even more.”

Mago sat back with a satisfied sigh. “No, that’s the simple beauty of the plan. My friend will be arranging for Symon’s nocturnal activities to be captured on a scrying crystal for future viewing. My friend’s colleague is brokering a deal that Symon has to sign off on but is known to be opposed to. My friend thinks Symon will be more agreeable to signing the papers if he knows that his wife will discover that his business trip wasn’t all business. So when you think of it that way, by putting Symon Wiggs into my friend’s clutches I’m actually doing him a favor.” Mago gave me a pleased little smile. “He says he owes me .”