Serpent's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 3)

by D J Salisbury

  Viper stared up the road, but it twisted and wound along the mountain too much for him to see very far. The girls must be coming. He just couldn’t hear Nightshade and Sumach yet.

  The Kyridon pushed the door up a few inches and turned its snout in his direction. “The hatchling’s improvisations were well constructed. This one wished to express its approval earlier, but did not desire to interrupt the hatchling’s concentration.”

  “I appreciate that.” He reached out to stroke the serpent’s head. Its skin scalded his hand. Was it ill?

  It jerked away from his touch. “The hatchling must defrost itself.” It slid back inside the wagon and the door slammed shut.

  Oh. The Kyridon wasn’t fevered. The problem was him being too cold. He already knew that.

  Viper pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and stuffed his hands inside his jacket, deep into his armpits.

  The team plodded forward patiently. It seemed like a very, very long time before they reached the town.

  ***

  Finally, in the third tavern, he found his useless bodyguards. “Why didn’t you come back for me?” He crutched across the common room and glared at the girls. “How was I supposed to find you?”

  “There’s only one inn in the whole town.” Lorel smiled over the top of her flagon. “Where else would we be? Besides, you could have asked the wind.”

  What did she mean, it was the only inn? He’d counted at least five others. “The north wind would never notice the likes of you.” He leaned on his crutch and planted both fists on his hips. “I need a hot bath. I’m frozen.”

  Tsai’dona sat rock-still on the hearth, guilt written all over her face.

  Lorel stood and stretched. “Where’s the team?”

  “In the stable. So is the wagon.” With the Kyridon, who was almost as cold as he was, safely inside and covered with all their blankets. “I paid the girl to give them extra grain and special treatment.” He glared up at her and tried not to sway from exhaustion. “If you worry so much, go look for yourself. I’ve got to thaw out.”

  “Come on, kid.” She hooked an arm around his shoulders. “Come sit by the fire.”

  Tsai’dona scooted over to make room for him.

  He sank down to the hearthstones. Blessed warmth oozed over him. But he couldn’t stop shaking.

  “I’ll get you something to eat, and you’ll feel better.” Lorel waved both arms. “Innkeeper! Bring a warm blanket for my friend. And send for a big meal. We gotta keep the kid healthy.”

  She snatched the blanket out of the innkeeper’s hands and wrapped it around his shivering body. “Hey, kid? How come these folk talk Dureme-Lor? I thought they’d talk – something different – being so far away.”

  “They do a lot of trading in Sedra-Kei,” he answered in Zedisti. “Slave trading.”

  “Weaver’s chamberpot.” Her face turned bright red. “Now I know why you was mad at us for leaving. Don’t you worry. They ain’t gonna touch you.”

  “Just stay close to me.” Viper glanced around the room. “Don’t get heroic. Nobody will harass me as long as you remember to play caravan guard.”

  “I hear you, kid. But one wagon ain’t much of a caravan.”

  He lowered his voice. “Turybird! Between blades and gems, what we’ve got in that sandblasted wagon is worth more than most trading caravans. Try not to tempt the lightning.”

  “I hear you, kid.” Lorel patted his shoulder and grinned at the approaching innkeeper. The man must have beer on his tray.

  Tsai’dona whispered in Duremen-Lor, “What did he say?”

  Blast. He’d thought she spoke Zedisti better than that. Well, they had several lunars to teach her. And he should try to teach both of them a little Nashidran. “I said we need to be careful while we’re in Padue.”

  “Padue!” Tsai’dona leapt to her feet. The blanket around her shoulders spilled to the hearth. “We’re in the slavers’ breeding ground?”

  What was wrong with her? “Where did you think we were going? We talked about it ages ago.” He scooped her blanket up and draped it over his legs. If she didn’t appreciate it, he certainly could.

  “Not to worry, Tsai.” Lorel pushed the girl back down to the hearth and tried to steal back the blanket.

  Viper held onto the fabric with both hands. “Go get a different one. I’m cold.”

  But Tsai’dona was shivering so much, he draped half of it across her lap.

  “Really, don’t worry.” Lorel sat down beside them. “Me’n the kid will protect you.”

  Viper rolled his eyes. Right now he couldn’t protect a starving nercat from an overfed house mouse.

  Tsai’dona giggled nervously. “Maybe I’m being silly. But I still have nightmares from the chains.”

  And from whatever else they’d done to her. She never had told them about it.

  He slid more of the blanket across her lap.

  Lorel looked up and licked her lips. “Here’s your supper, kid. It’ll warm you up. Good, hot, spicy food. It’s lots like my favorites from home.”

  Tsai’dona looked at him like she was sending condolences his way.

  The innkeeper laid a tray in his lap and backed away.

  Red peppers floated in oily sauce covering green-flecked noodles. Purple vegetables and greenish meat stuck out of one side. His stomach shriveled. The mere smell of it made his eyes water.

  But it was food. And it was hot. He picked up the fork and begged forgiveness from his insides.

  ***

  By the next morning, everything looked better. Breakfast was oatmeal with honey, his clothes were dry, his jacket was almost warm enough to fend off the cold, and everyone Viper met had a smile for him.

  The locals wore brightly colored robes and coats. Not a single silver robe marred the view. The market square had a celebratory air about it, and several people stopped to greet the strangers.

  “These are the friendliest people I have ever seen.” He leaned on his crutch and waved both arms at the bustling marketplace.

  “Anybody crazy enough to worship a dragon gotta be friendly.” Lorel pointed at the nearest stall, where a silver dragon figurine leered at them. “They ain’t got no enemies worse’n their own god.”

  He laughed. “You’re right about that.”

  Tsai’dona snorted and caressed the hilt of her new sword. “Paduans all start out crazy. They’re friendliest just before they lock chains on you.”

  Lorel nodded. “I don’t much like it, and neither does Kyri-thing. It says to be real careful.”

  “The Kyridon does seem nervous.” Viper stood on his toes to look into the next stall. Handsome beaded purses glittered back at him, not something he could see a use for. “But it’s also excited about something.” Which it refused to talk about. Its reticence annoyed him, but he hadn’t gotten up the courage to confront the creature.

  Tsai’dona grabbed his arm and towed him onward.

  “Weaver’s cold toes.” Lorel groaned and slouched forward as though she carried a heavy pack. “That means you’re gonna find a new bookstore.”

  The stalls surrounding them sold salted fish and yellow apples. Not a piece of paper in sight. “I don’t think I’ll be so lucky.”

  “Sing to the Weaver. My back ain’t up to no more books.”

  As if she needed to carry his books anymore. The wagon was doing all the work. Hmm. The horses were doing all the work. Maybe he should cut back on his book-buying habits. The wagon must weigh a couple of tons with all the Crayl steel he’d bought.

  The sun peeked over the mountain top. Suddenly even dead fish looked more appealing. He probably should stock up on it, no matter how much he disliked dried fish. And the horses would love the apples, if the girls refused to eat them.

  “Look up there.” Tsai’dona pointed up the slope, where pale sunlight shimmered on an enormous building. “What is it?”

  “A temple, I think.” Though he’d never seen a temple that looked anything like it, not eve
n in the books he’d read.

  The towering edifice stood proud against the mountain side, gleaming bone white in the sun. It was ringed by three high walls, the outermost as yet unfinished. The only visible entrance was a long avenue lined with statues.

  “Impressive.” He wished he could get close enough to study the architecture. “Very impressive.”

  “Is it made of bones?” Tsai’dona whispered.

  “Could be,” Viper said absently, still searching for details.

  Lorel stood up on her toes. “I’m sure of it, kid. Those are bones! Where’d they get so many?”

  “The slaughter house, I guess.” He’d rather not know for sure. The whole business of building in bone seemed rather morbid. “Or maybe that’s their way of burying their dead. Not everybody sticks bodies in the ground. The Setoyan tribes feed corpses to the bahtdor.” And live slaves, too. He’d never admit that to Tsai’dona.

  “That’s gross.”

  “Nonsense. It’s survival. Thunderer’s drums, I want to see the inside of that temple.”

  “I don’t.” Tsai’dona turned away and surveyed the marketplace. “You two can go by yourselves.”

  He sighed. “They probably won’t let outsiders in, anyway.”

  “Perhaps I could be of service,” said a stout man. “My brother is a temple priest, and they’re always ready to celebrate with strangers. I can ask him to show you around.”

  “I’d be very grateful.” Viper bowed politely. “I’ve never seen a building anything like your temple.”

  “It’s a rarity, it is.” The man smiled and puffed out his chest. “You’re staying at Dedendre’s inn? I’ll send word to you there. I’m sure my brother will want you to visit in the next day or two.”

  “That will be perfect.” Viper bowed again. “Thank you.”

  The man strode away, hurrying toward the temple.

  Lorel frowned. “I think you got us dunked in swamp slime.”

  Tsai’dona nodded. “That one is looking for trouble. I bet he’s a slaver.”

  “Nonsense. He’s not wearing one of their silly robes.” Viper grinned and waved one hand at the mountain. “Most temples like to show off. I visited several temples in Toranan-Yiet and Sedra-Kei. You’ll like it.”

  Tsai’dona shuddered.

  “More likely I’ll be bored. But you ain’t going by yourself.” Lorel turned back to the square. “Let’s go do that trading you been bragging about.”

  Viper laughed and led the way into the chaos of the marketplace.

  ***

  Lorel shook her head and followed the kid between the stalls. He was just plain too trusting. She had to keep a sharp eye on him.

  Tsai gasped and grabbed the pommel of her sword. “I thought you killed him.”

  “Killed who?” She hadn’t killed all that many people. Just them slavers.

  A one-armed man charged toward them in a slow stagger.

  Oh, him. She thought he was dead, too. She knew she should’ve gone back and made sure of that slaver. But she really hated killing people, even nasty brutes. Besides, he should’ve bled out when she chopped off his arm.

  “You’re dead meat,” One Arm shouted. “I’ll finish you this time!”

  The kid hesitated. “Is he yelling at us?”

  “ ’Fraid so. The scurvy chunk of Loom lint.”

  “Who is he?”

  Nice of the kid to assume she’d know. “Ancient history.”

  “A slaver,” Tsai said at the same time.

  “I see.” The kid looked around and paused, thinking way too hard for his own good. He gestured at the market people. “You can’t do anything about him here. They’ll tear us apart if you injure him.”

  He had a point. These folks did look kinda pissed.

  “We’re just going to let him walk away?” Tsai frowned so hard she’d have wrinkles for the next seven years. “After the things he did?”

  She didn’t want to know what the pervert had done. She’d have to kill him for sure once she did. She wanted to kill him just for the pain in Tsai’s voice.

  The crowd shuffled closer.

  “We’re in the middle of a city of slavers. He’s no different from any of the others.” The kid made sad-puppy eyes at Tsai. “If I’d thought about it, I wouldn’t have brought you here. There must be a route around Padue we could have taken. I apologize.”

  Tsai sighed and nodded. She turned to face One Arm and held her hand up. “Do you remember me?”

  One Arm froze cold.

  “Do you have any idea of what I’d like to do to you?”

  The slaver took half a step back. “I own you.”

  “Your leader hired my guard company.” Tsai crossed her arms over her chest like she was trying to keep herself from socking the pervert. “Hired, not bought. You lot betrayed us.”

  The people around them murmured. Some turned and walked away.

  “I own you.” One Arm gestured at the three of them. “By rights, I own all of you, in payment of what she did to me.” He pointed his stump at Lorel.

  The miswoven pervert. “After you attacked me and tried to chain me up?” She’d show him what payment he’d earned. Her fingertips brushed her short sword’s pommel.

  Tsai nodded and glared at the slaver like she wanted to carve him into mouse-sized kitty snacks.

  “He tried to enslave you?” The kid looked kinda shocked, but he snatched her hand away from her sword’s hilt and clung to her fingers. He shouted, “We’ve been invited to worship at your temple.”

  The crowd gasped.

  Wasn’t that stretching the truth a little? The kid had practically invited himself – for a tour, not worship. She’d never seen the kid worship nothing. Except a book, maybe.

  One Arm wavered. “If you worship the Dragon, I mayn’t interfere with you. If you’re lying…”

  Lorel twitched her hand free and laid it on the hilt of her short sword. No pervert had the right to threaten the kid. Whether he worshiped some dragon or not. Not even if he was lying.

  The kid shrugged, jerked his head at Tsai, and grabbed her wrist again. He was shaking so hard it was a wonder he could stand up. Didn’t he know by now she could protect him from one sickly slaver?

  He sagged a little and yanked his crutch closer.

  She grabbed his shoulder and stealthily supported his weight. It wouldn’t do to show the crowd that he was their weak link. Who was she kidding? A tiny boy on a crutch? He surely wasn’t their strongest point.

  But the crowd thinned as people turned their backs on the confrontation and walked away.

  The slaver glared at them one last time and staggered to the edge of the square. Good to know he hadn’t recovered enough strength to walk properly. How’d he get here so quick, anyway? Were there more slavers backing him up? She didn’t see anybody helping him.

  Nobody but her seemed to care. The market folk wandered back to their stalls.

  The kid blew out a long breath and stopped shaking.

  Oh, it was the crowd he was scared of. It never occurred to her the locals might bother them. She better keep that in mind. He worried about the right things most of the time.

  The kid sighed again and turned in the opposite direction from where One Arm had gone. He hobbled down the stalls until he found one that sold glittery black rocks. He gave a shaky grin to the stall keeper. “I’ll trade you equal weight in Kresh jasper for your black opals.”

  That started a long, boring day of dickering. He bargained for rocks, for grain, for dried fruit and veggies, for piles of paper. They had to make trip after trip back to the wagon to offload supplies.

  She was about to complain that the wagon was too full when he started bargaining for a new cask of beer.

  Tsai waited for him to finish that deal before she led him to the next stall over. “Buy six of these. The biggest ones.” She pointed at five-inch-tall bronze coiled springs. “And some screws.”

  The kid looked at the girl like she’d lost her wits, bu
t spent another seven years dickering. He seemed pleased with the results, considering he didn’t know why she wanted the overgrown coils.

  What could Tsai do with springs? Did the girl know about a weapon she hadn’t heard of yet?

  He didn’t look happy about the screws. “Are they made of gold?” he asked the vendor. “Bronze is almost too soft to be useful. Gold screws would be impossible.”

  The merchant shrugged. “I’ll throw a turnscrew into the deal.” He held up a bronze stick with a pear-shaped wooden handle. “And a hammer to flatten the tip when it bends.”

  Lorel sighed. “My dad has a couple of turnscrews. It’s a pain to keep them flat, but it’s not hard.”

  Tsai snickered like she’d had lots of practice, herself. “Throw a drill into the deal,” she told the vendor.

  That would’ve been too easy. The kid spent another seven years haggling over a Crayl-steel, creaky, cranky drill with steel bits. It cost its weight in gold, or nearly. She never dreamed her parents’ tools were worth so much. Good thing she never lost none of them. She’d keep close track of these, too. The kid surely wouldn’t.

  He handed Tsai the drill and moved on to a stall filled with stinky dried fish. How long could he haggle over fish? Forever, it felt like.

  Throughout the hours of torture, Lorel watched the crowd. Old One Arm shadowed them all day long. If he’d been healthier, she might’ve worried. If he had friends, she’d’ve worried more, but the snipped thread always stood there alone. She kept an eye on him, but mostly ignored him. No matter what she really wanted to do.

  This bargaining stuff was the most boring part of messing around with the kid. Just pay for the miswoven thing and get moving. But she knew what he’d say to that. She’d heard it too fraying many times already.

  Maybe she’d say it anyway. Listening to him cuss with baby swear words was just so cute.

  Chapter 10.

  A cold morning breeze gusted through the inn’s courtyard. It whipped back Viper’s hair and ruffled the fur collar of his new blue-wool coat. The hilt of the little knife he’d stuck in an inside pocket poked against his chest every time he leaned against his crutch. He really ought to return the thing to the knife drawer. It was barely long enough to peel an apple. But it was all the protection he’d needed today in the Paduan market.