Spellheart 9: Chapter 23 (Patreon)

Hours passed as we negotiated back and forth. I proposed, time and again, what Sam and Dean had assured me was a reasonable bribe to let the Satyr King save face for his son's death. Each time, I was rejected. My patience, already thin for this type of politics, was wearing out. How long was this going to drag on?

I'd make an offer, the Satyr King would consider it, make a few adjustments, and then dismiss it out of hand when he tired of the discussion. To exacerbate matters, he frequently demanded breaks for Ethan to bring in more food or entertainment. His attention span was less than that of a toddler.

Just how in the Ten Thousand Worlds did this guy attain Immortal Ascension?

I mentally noted to figure out the process of starting a Sacred Grove, as I was becoming increasingly convinced that I had been working way too hard at cultivating.

The Satyr King leaned back in his chair, an aura of dismissiveness surrounding him. "Very well, Patriarch Theo. Suppose we reduce the number of zeal crystals to eighty thousand. But, in exchange, I want access to your most skilled craftsmen for five hundred years. This will be enforced by a mandatory contractual obligation, of course."

His proposal startled me. "Your Majesty, that's longer than the lifespan of an average true mage. You’re talking about generations of craftsmen serving you.”

The Satyr King raised an eyebrow. Apparently, he didn’t see a problem with this.

"Such a term is simply slavery with extra steps," I retorted. "Perhaps we can agree on forty thousand zeal crystals, and a rotating shift of one hundred craftsmen to serve your needs, though they will remain physically in the Hearthwood at all times."

The Satyr King dismissed my proposal with a wave of his hand. "Ah, but that simply won't do, Patriarch Theo. My people have grand designs that require all those elven tinkerers. I might lower the zeal crystal amount to sixty thousand, but I insist on the five-hundred-year term."

I gritted my teeth, struggling to maintain my composure. "While I appreciate your willingness to compromise on the zeal crystals, the five-hundred-year term is still unfeasible. I propose fifty thousand zeal crystals and fifty years of my craftsmen's services."

The Satyr King smirked. "Patriarch Theo, I admire your tenacity. Let's meet in the middle, shall we? Fifty-five thousand zeal crystals and two hundred fifty years for your craftsmen."

I fought to keep my teeth from grinding together. 'Meet in the middle', my ass! He was so far out in left field that meeting in the middle would require relocating to another continent! I was growing increasingly convinced that the Satyr King hadn’t come here with the intention of negotiating at all.

As the haggling continued, the air in the room grew thick with tension. Each counteroffer seemed carefully calculated to maximize my discomfort and wear me down. I glanced at Ethan, seeking guidance on how to proceed, and he gave me a slight, helpless shrug. Now that we were discussing business, his role was essentially over. He was supposed to be neutral, though I suspected he harbored a slight bias in favor of his fellow human.

With renewed determination, I looked the Satyr King straight in the eye and said, "Your Majesty, what you’re asking for simply can’t be done. Be reasonable.”

Reasonable? To my son’s killers? How could Himmar rest peacefully knowing I didn’t extract maximum value from his death?

Ethan coughed. “Tivar, your majesty. It was Prince Tivar who died.”

“Yes yes, of course…” The Satyr King brushed Ethan’s correction aside.

Negotiations came to a sudden halt when the Satyr King declared he was bored with the entire process. "Enough of this tedious back and forth. I insist we take a break for the day. Ethan, bring forth more entertainment to liven up this dreary affair. But first, I must send a message."

His abrupt change of pace left me suspicious. What was the Satyr King playing at? I decided it was time to gather some intelligence of my own. I had just the right tool for the job —a small spider golem that Mac and Argona had crafted. It was perfect for a bit of interplanetary espionage.

While Sam and Dean had drilled etiquette into me and tried to prepare me as best they could, I’d taken the liberty of preparing a few toys that might come in handy.

I would have been nervous to listen in with Earth magic, but this tiny golem had as much technology in it as magic. Unlike a spell, even an Immortal Ascendant wouldn’t be able to recognize it, or so I hoped.

Perhaps a skilled Immortal Ascendant with their true body would realize there was something amiss, but the Satyr King thus far had struck me as rather unremarkable for his level, and his current avatar was only at my own level. If ever there was a time to use this trick, it was now.

As the Satyr King retreated to a private chamber to compose his message, I discreetly activated the golem and sent it scuttling after him. Its tiny legs allowed it to move silently, avoiding detection as it climbed the walls and positioned itself above the Satyr King.

In the main hall, Ethan had no choice but to comply with the royal demand, ushering in a troupe of performers. Meanwhile, I focused on the golem's audio feed, listening intently as the Satyr King began to dictate his message.

I waited patiently for it to finish, exchanging a bit of small talk with Ethan. I couldn’t listen in to the Satyr King’s conversation live, as that would require an active line of communication between it and me, which was something that would allow the Satyr King to find the device and know I’d sent it. By leaving it completely disconnected, even if I was discovered, he wouldn’t have any idea who was spying on him.

I waited as politely as possible, but it seemed like the Satyr King planned on talking for a while, or was otherwise occupied in his room. Eventually, I made an excuse to excuse myself as well.

“It seems his majesty doesn’t mind keeping us waiting,” Ethan said, casting me an apologetic look.

"I'm going to go check back in with the airship we came in.” I stood to leave.

"Of course..." Ethan chuckled. "I can tell you already brought entertainment better than anything we might provide."

I took a small detour on the way back to the airship, just long enough for the tiny, spider-sized golem to crawl up my pant leg.

Amisra and Yorik had braved the Cult of the Unblinking Eye to explore and get some food, though Mayatania was still too nervous to go anywhere where there were Satyrs about.

I arrived shortly after Amisra and Yorik returned, and the four of us reconvened in our room aboard the airship.

"I hope you ladies enjoyed yourselves, because I sure as hell didn't," I said as I returned to the airship.

Amisra laid a hand on my shoulder. "I take it the negotiations aren't going well?"

I gave her and Yorik a kiss. "That's putting it mildly. It seems like the Satyr King is trying to frustrate me." I let out a long sigh. "But I think I might have found the key to this mess." I held up the small spider spy golem for them all to see.

"Eep! Bug!" Mayatania jumped back.

I shook my head. "It's a spy golem, specially designed back in the Hearthwood. If we did everything right, it should have recorded whatever message the Satyr King is sending back home. Maybe it can help me finally figure out what his game is..."

Amisra's eyebrows rose. "I never would have guessed the Patriarch of the Hearthwood Clan was so adept at interplanetary espionage... if other people can make these things, I will have to train the Royal Guards to look for them."

It took a bit of fiddling for the golem to open up, built as it was for Argona's small and nimble fingers. In the end, I had to resort to using earth zeal to pry the thing open.

Once it was done, I dropped the golem's core into a bowl filled with zeal crystals. Manipulated with a bit of mind magic, this would let us view the golem's recent memories.

Slowly, and with a little guidance, an image formed within the still waters of the bowl.

"It's me. I want a status report," the Satyr King demanded.

"My King, we're having some difficulties. The forests do not cooperate with us here, and there are a few powerful beasts in this one in particular... we may need to kidnap a local elf to ask for directions," the voice on the other end of the Satyr King's connection said.

He spoke facing a mirror, though the image in the mirror was not of him. A different Satyr stood crouched amidst bushes and leaves, looking into a mirror of his own. Probably a small hand mirror, judging from the shape of the image.

"Foiled by a poor sense of direction?" The Satyr King cursed. "I need that Keystone Elf to secure my new territory. Fine. Kidnap whoever you need to. Just make sure to dispose of them afterward. The leaders of the small provincial kingdom you're in are here at the meeting with me, and I'd rather not lose this avatar if I can help it."

"Understood, Your Majesty. I'm sure the locals know how to get to this Hearthwood Clan..."

The mirror winked out, and the Satyr King waved at his mirror. The image shifted to a naked elf woman. The Satyr King started scrolling through one image after another, sitting on his bed in contemplation. I shut down the feed when he started reaching for the button on his trousers.

"Did you all hear what I just heard?" I asked. A terrible feeling was crawling up my spine. I hoped my paranoid mind had just imagined the connections it was making, but the dark looks my companions wore told me it wasn't just me who'd come to the same grim conclusion.

"It sounds like the Satyr King is buying time for his agents to find the Hearthwood and kidnap Sava!" Mayatania said, her face pale and her voice full of nervous fear.

"Then we have no time to waste," I replied. "I need to get back to the Hearthwood immediately. You three, tell Sam and Dean and help them come up with an excuse for my absence. Tell them I ate too much food and need some rest or something. Make up a story."

“A Gold-realm body cultivator passing out from eating too much?” Amisra raised an eyebrow. It did seem rather implausible.

"You wore your hips out and must nap," Yorik smirked.

“Better,” Amisra agreed.

I wasted no time in opening a Pocket World passage back to the Hearthwood. The Satyr King probably didn't know I had a way to return to the Hearthwood instantly. If he was watching me, he'd be waiting for the moment I tried to beg for use of the local Teleportation Array from the Cult of the Unblinking Eye. But I needed no such favors, since through The Wanderer my home was never more than a step away.

“I’m off then. Some zeal might leak through from back home, so practice some cultivation to cover for the energy emanations. I’d rather our hosts or the Satyr King not know about this ability of mine.”

I returned to the world just in time for a panicked message from Mac.

[Theo! They're at it again! And this time there's more than one of them!]