Free Angel-Seeker by Sharon Shinn

Gabriel wants—the last thing any of us want—is to see the Jansai fail,” Obadiah said quietly, with such sincerity that Uriah nodded. “Let us begin with the assumption that we are both working to ensure the success of the Jansai. But let us also work with the assumption that the Edori are to be in no way jeopardized. The Edori are no longer an option for you. Thus, we must look at other options.”
    â€œI am not ready to relinquish the Edori,” Uriah grumbled.
    â€œThen perhaps we will not get very far in our discussions today,” Obadiah said, still pleasantly. “But these are matters that will take some time to sort out, don’t you agree? We do not have to solve everything in one evening.”
    Uriah brooded for a moment, then suddenly his face lit in a smile. “You’re right; I am not in favor of negotiations that are finalized in the snap of a finger,” he said, striking his fingers together in just such a gesture. “I distrust a man who arrives with his mind all made up, knowing just what he wants of me without seeing what else I have to offer. We will spend a little time together, and we will talk again later in the week—or later in the month—and we will see how we like each other. That is how the strongest deals are made. When you know the best of what your opponent has to offer.”
    â€œOr the weakest spot in your opponent’s defenses,” Obadiah said.
    Uriah roared with laughter. “You’re a witty one!” he exclaimed. “Did Gabriel send you here because of your quick tongue?”
    â€œHe claimed it was my charm of manner,” Obadiah said.
    Uriah smiled widely, revealing rather large and dirty teeth. “I can be charming myself,” the Jansai said. “When it suits me.”
    â€œThen I think we shall deal together extremely well.”
    â€œAgreed! Are you staying for dinner? You must, of course! Jovah’s bones, you will have to spend the night, I suppose, for your puny wings won’t carry you all the way back to the Eyrie in a single night.”
    â€œMy puny wings are more impressive than any wings I have seen you sprout,” Obadiah said genially, “and I am not headed back to the Eyrie. I am staying in Cedar Hills for the foreseeable future.”
    â€œStill too far to travel by night.”
    â€œI agree. I was going to find a hotel.”
    Uriah nodded. “I can recommend a good one.”
    That was a relief. For a moment he had been afraid Uriah would insist that the angel stay with him, either in this tent or whatever unfriendly stone house the merchant might own in the central district. But no; the Jansai were not known for accommodating strangers. There had been no real chance that Uriah would take him in. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.”
    The night that followed was only an inch away from debauchery. Obadiah constantly had the sense that, had he appeared the least bit interested, Uriah would have supplied him with fallen women, opiate concoctions, and even stronger liquors than the ones that were served. They took their dinner in another tent, an even more expansive one on the border between the city center and the stone houses of the residential district. The furnishings were opulent, the food magnificent, their companions inebriated and happy. Obadiah was careful to drink enough to appear convivial but not so much that he lost his sense of purpose. He laughed even when he was not amused, complimented his host extravagantly on the food, and listened attentively to every interminable story of hunting and trade offered up by Uriah and his friends. He thought possibly he had never spent a more miserable night in his life.
    Well past midnight, Obadiah came to his feet, a little more shakily than he would have liked. “I’m a working man with a report to make in the morning,” he told Uriah. “I must be off to bed now if I’ve any hope of