The Mermaid's Tale

by D. G. Valdron

“Between her legs...her legs...” she started to heave, gulping air. She rocked back and forth, moaning.

  “Between her legs. Between her legs. Red...”

  The Morla began to grunt behind me, reacting to her obvious distress, but uncertain what to do about it.

  “It’s all right,” I said quickly, conscious of the Morla behind me. They were fighters, upset, they would attack something.

  That was how it went, only partially helpful. Everyone spoke of the eyes gouged out, a few had noted tongues removed. They all noted the red ruins of the sex, and several emphasized many stab wounds. None had made any effort to check the width or depth of the wounds, and could offer no guesses as to the kind of knife. Two felt that it was a small knife used, but could not say why.

  If all the killings were the same, then the killer couldn’t have been the Dwarf they’d killed. The Mermaid, and at least one other had died afterwards.

  If Snow Leopard Totem paid the blood price, I decided, it was because they wanted to keep the Secret Nation out of this war. I could not imagine the Dwarves condescending to acknowledge guilt or pay for crimes.

  For the Dwarves it would be simple. Pay the blood price, defuse their anger, persuade them to sit out the war.

  Perhaps the killer was another Dwarf? I tried the thought on.

  It made a degree of sense. Dwarves practiced ritual blinding and they hated Kobolds. I could see a maddened Dwarf preying upon them.

  I didn’t see the taste of madness that infused the relationships of Dwarves and Kobolds extending itself to Humans, or Selk, or Mermaids.

  Besides, I didn’t think that a Dwarf had the reach for what I’d seen on the Mermaid’s body.

  Perhaps a Dwarf then? Likely not.

  I turned matters over in my mind. The Morla were growing irritable, as I chased name after name. I wanted to try and see if anyone had seen or heard of anything before Kobolds disappeared and bodies turned up.

  Copper Thoughts had lied to me about the Totem of the Dwarf that had been killed. According to the Kobolds, he was connected, however distantly, to both the killings and the killer.

  Eventually, they left me back at the Goblin market near where I had found the children.

  Dawn was coming. I realized that I was tired.

  I felt a curious sense of frustration. Before, everything had been so simple. A mad Arukh, easy to find and kill.

  Now...

  Now, perhaps a mad Arukh, but if so, a very clever one to have killed so often.

  Good and bad. Mad Arukh were common as leaves. Clever ones, not so much. But clever ones were dangerous.

  Who?

  Not one of the Arukh the Kobold sheltered, they would have been watched two closely. Not even the Kobold were such fools. By simple elimination, any Arukh that dwelled among them that could have had the opportunity to take fourteen would have been identified.

  An outside Arukh then? One with the lodges, or wild.

  But then, why pursue Kobolds? And why move on as he had?

  Perhaps a Dwarf? I returned to the thought again. Even the one that had been killed? But the killings hadn’t stopped, so it had to be another Dwarf or even more than one Dwarf.

  Two Dwarves? Maybe more? The vampire had talked of wolves. Perhaps the killer was a pack of Arukh, a band of them. Or a band of something else. Dwarves maybe. Or Vampires. Even humans.

  It didn’t feel right to me.

  No, it was a solitary killing. All the cuts from a single knife so far as I could tell.

  Nevertheless, I slipped the thought away into the back of my mind, just in case.

  Perhaps a Kobold? A big Morla or Nela might have been able to do it.

  I discounted that. They were too well known to each other, too bound up in each other. A killer would have betrayed himself.

  A stranger, I decided. It had to be a stranger to the Kobolds.

  Perhaps a magician?

  I wanted to know about Copper Thoughts, I decided.

  Something hit me from behind, hard. The laminated wooden plate I wore under my cloak cracked. I went flying.

  “Monster,” a deep voice rumbled.

  I rolled and came up fast. A shape appeared in front of me. I slashed and moved past it. It caught me. I grunted and tore at it, trying to stab as it held my arm.

  Ublul.

  Another was on me. They were slow, and not as strong as I was. I twisted out of their grip, but then another appeared. I stabbed at him, but he blocked it with his arm. And they were on top of me again.

  I yowled with rage.

  The big one—I knew his face, he had been one of the guards who had taken me to see the Mermaid’s corpse, Slal—swung at me with a heavy club. I ducked out of the way, but that drove me near another. I slashed at him, but he just stepped back. Meanwhile, another came at me, as I turned, the one I’d slashed at as I rolled forward.

  I was bleeding from my forearm. When had that happened?

  “Arrah,” I snarled, backing towards a wall.

  “Arrah,” there came a howl. The young female hurled herself at the rear of the Ublul.

  They drove her back, and arranged themselves into a defensive formation. Slal faced me.

  I watched them. They were slow and heavy, good defensive fighters. I wouldn’t do well to attack them, but I had no fear. They’d lost their surprise and I was fast and mean enough to cut them up if they moved away from a defensive posture. There was nothing we could really do now, but spit at each other.

  “You spoke to the Mermaids,” he accused me. “You went and you spoke to them. Did you think we would not learn of it?”

  “What of it?” I gulped air, my heart pounding against my ribs.

  “Don’t do it again.”

  “This is what you’ve come for?” I asked. “To tell me not to speak to Mermaids?”

  “You are a monster, an abomination,” he said. “They are holy. You profane them with your attendance.”

  “They didn’t seem to mind,” I tried to snarl, but the words came out flat.

  “It is forbidden.”

  “Is that your word, or the Elders?”

  “We protect,” he replied. “The Elders have given us this mission.”

  “You did well protecting Mira,” I said sarcastically.

  He blinked. A film slipped over his eyes for a second, and his placid expression shifted unreadably.

  I tensed for the next attack.

  “We failed. We will not fail again.”

  “I do not threaten the Mermaids.”

  “An Arash killed. The Arash are forbidden.”

  “Who saw the Arash kill?” I snapped, unconsciously mimicking his lisping pronunciation.

  “We saw the body.”

  “Who saw the Arash?” I snarled. “Who saw the Arash kill?”

  “We saw you visit the Mermaids.”

  “Yes,” I growled, “but who saw the Arash kill? Surely the Arash are so different they are easy to spot? When did this other Arash come? How did he arrive?”

  “We don’t know. That is why the Elders have called upon you.”

  “You never saw the Arash kill?” I insisted.

  “No.”

  “Then you don’t know it’s an Arash?”

  “We saw the body.”

  “A Selk could have done it. You never saw an Arash.”

  I watched their reactions. Confusion. Doubt. Anger.

  I didn’t seriously believe a Selk had done it. It had started before it came to the Selk. I just wanted to make them doubt, to weaken them against each other.

  “Watch your people,” I told the big Ublul. “Tell the Elders: I have learned that this thing likes to hunt. It does not like to stop. It may take more victims.”

  “Why do you say this?”

  “It has hunted bef
ore, among Kobolds and Humans. Now it has a taste for Selk. Watch all your people, not just the Mermaids, and leave me alone. I will find it and kill it for you.”

  “Tell us.”

  I laughed.

  “I’ll tell the Elders.”

  “Do not see the Mermaids again. Do not speak to them.”

  He hesitated for an instant, something softer appeared in him.

  “You and your kind, you are abominations. They are holy people. It’s not right. You will poison them just by being there.”

  I bobbed my head and looked away.

  “Arrah,” I grunted.

  Together, they lumbered off, heading back towards the river. They left a trail of blood behind.

  I held my wounded arm and watched them. They moved together in good precision protecting each other. Very hard to attack.

  The young female Arukh crouched a few dozen feet away, watching me.

  I stared at her.

  She stared back. She was bolder each time I saw her.

  I sighed and heaved myself against the wall.

  I advanced on her until I was close enough that she retreated. I stopped. She crouched warily, watching me.

  “No slaves,” I said. “I don’t want you. I won’t protect you. I will hurt you. It is what we are, we make things hurt.”

  Her eyes glittered.

  Insane, I knew. Words meant nothing, she was full of her own kind of madness. It would kill her, sooner or later.

  Madness kills us all.

  I sighed.

  “If you’re going to follow me around,” I told her, “go see the Gnomes. They’ll pay you to watch me.”

  No reaction.

  The noon sun beat down fiercely.

  I’d made a rough bandage around my arm. It was just a scratch, and hadn’t bled all that much.

  I went looking for Shamans. I wanted to know about magic.

  “Arukh,” she said warily. Her eyes darted about nervously, but she gave no other sign of fear. Everyone fears the Arukh, that is the truth. But it is not good to show it to us.

  She looked like a scrawny Human, but there were traces of Goblin sibilants in her voice, and her clothes had a Goblin cut to them.

  “Changeling,” I said. “Foundling child of the Mothers. Mothers love upon you.”

  She looked nervous. For a second her lips moved in Goblin greeting, and then thought better of it. The Mothers cursed the Arukh, and on the whole, we cursed them back.

  For a briefer second again, her lips moved in Arukh greeting and stopped. Clever, I thought, to know such things. More clever, not to say them.

  “I’m just a healer,” she said finally. “I’ve never brought harm to an Arukh. I’ve never brought harm to anyone. I heal and help, even Arukh.”

  I ducked my head, bobbing up and down. She knew enough to be reassured. It’s when we swing our heads side to side that it is to fear. Clever, I thought again, and brave. I liked her.

  I laid a gold coin in front of her.

  She stared at it, eyes wide.

  “What do you want me to do for that?”

  “I’ve heard that you have strong magic?”

  “I’m just a healer. I heal. That’s all.”

  “Arrah,” I snapped irritably.

  “I won’t hurt anyone. I won’t kill. Find someone else.”

  I was amused. She was terrified of me, but she held to her little bit of ground.

  I growled deep and angry, to frighten her. It worked.

  “What is this life worth to you? What is your own worth, that you risk my displeasure?”

  “You threaten me,” she said, trying to work up a semblance of anger. “You come into my place of power, and you threaten me? How dare you?”

  “Arrah,” I said, amused, “mighty one. Forgive me. I do not wish to arouse your wrath.”

  I bowed my head submissively, my lips pulled into a tight grin as I leered at her, watching from the corner of my eyes.

  She seemed mollified. Or did she sense mockery?

  “Take your gold and your harm and begone.”

  “Wait,” I said. I pushed the coin toward her.

  She stared at it hungrily, unwilling to throw it at me.

  “The gold is not for harm, mighty one. It is a gift.”

  She glanced at me again, and then to the gold.

  “What sort of gifts do Arukh make?” she asked, still nervous.

  “It is a token of friendship, mighty one.”

  “Friendship?” she asked. “From who? Who seeks friendship?”

  “This Arukh,” I bowed, swinging my head and grinning.

  She knew enough about Arukh to be frightened by the gesture. Interesting.

  “You’ve healed Arukh?”

  “Burns, broken bones, the rotting sickness from wounds. You... They are bad creatures.”

  “Arrah,” I said. Would Arukh come to a healer? I doubted it. But perhaps she’d encountered some through a battle commission... “Who did you serve in the war, Vampires or Dwarves?”

  “I served the injured,” she said stubbornly.

  “Do you want the gold?” I asked.

  “What is the price?”

  “You know much magic?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know magicians and sorcerers?”

  “Some.”

  “Copper Thoughts?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  I waited.

  “Strong Shaman. Very strong. Saw him fight in the last war. Killed three Arukh, fresh ones, right at the start of battle, one after the other. Walked away. No one would touch him.”

  “Where was this?” I asked.

  “Over by two stones gate,” she said. “Right at the start of war.”

  I had fought for the Dwarves, for a while. I hadn’t come close to two stones gate, though.

  “How does he fight?”

  “Two long knives, slashes with the first, stabs with the second; guts with the first, one two, three.”

  “He’s just a street shaman?”

  “He has become much more powerful. He killed Pearl Eyes, who was very strong. He takes souls. He has many souls, his slaves work for him on the street of Joy.”

  I grunted.

  “Every one he kills, makes him stronger. Every soul he takes, makes him stronger. He has very strong magic.”

  “What else?”

  “They say he made the Horsemen. He took horse souls and twisted them, so Humans could ride. I do not know if this is true,” she said.

  I didn’t believe it, a magician powerful enough to twist horses.

  No.

  “Regardless,” she continued, “he stands high with the Horsemen. Therefore he is mighty in the Human Kingdom. Some say he owns the soul of the King’s son.”

  “He is very mighty. Mighty like Forty Friends and Many Faces. He has the power to make war, to steal souls, to kill any he wishes.”

  “How do I protect myself from his magic?”

  The Healer laughed bitterly.

  “Ask me how to overcome Forty Friends?”

  We glanced nervously at a pair of squabbling ravens. They seemed to stare at us for a second, and then went back to their dispute.

  “It is lucky that you are Arukh,” she said. “You have no soul to steal. He can only kill you.”

  I digested this fact.

  “How will he do it?” I asked.

  “Probably,” the Shaman speculated, “he will send his slaves, at first. By this time, he probably has half the Human Kingdom hanging from his belt. If that doesn’t work, he will come himself.”

  “Would he send madness?” I asked.

  The shaman stared at me.

  “You’re Arukh. What would be the point?”

  “
Could he?” I persisted.

  She thought about it.

  “It might be. Most Street Shamans are very limited. Powerful, but limited. They have a few tricks, but they use them mightily. Copper Thoughts has risen high, higher than his old tricks could take him. He must gain new magics to hold his power. Sending madness could be one.”

  “Arrah,” I grunted.

  “Can you protect me from madness?”

  She shook her head.

  A thought occurred to me.

  “Cut out tongue, cut out eyes, cut out female parts, use the wound in place, stab many many times. What sort of magic is that?”

  She took a few moments to absorb it. Another moment to realize I was asking and not threatening.

  “Are the cuts before death or after?”

  I shrugged. “What difference does it make.”

  “Different magics,” she said, “I only know a little. Cut out eyes and tongue after the body is dead, that’s a magic to protect from ghosts. Up in the north woods, Humans sew up the eyes and noses and mouths of their dead. A ghost without eyes or tongue can’t see you, can’t follow you, can’t name you. Someone that does that, they’re afraid of ghosts.”

  Considering what my killer had done, I thought he might well fear ghosts.

  “And before death?”

  “Fear magic. Dwarves are masters of fear magic. That is how they rule Kobolds. They pluck out eyes. It gives them power.”

  I thought about that. Mira’s eyes... They hadn’t been expertly done. Dwarves have special spoons for it, you can tell their work. This had just been a simple gouging. No finesse, just grubby passion.

  Probably not Dwarves then.

  But interesting.

  “This thing about the many stabbings, about cutting the female part. It doesn’t sound like magic. It sounds like butchery, like Arukh. Except maybe...”

  “What else?”

  “This could be death magic,” she said hesitantly. “It is said that one can grow powerful with death magic. You kill with fear and pain, perhaps you get stronger.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know about death magic,” she said. “Perhaps it is like stealing souls, or burning them for a fire. Death magic is used for casting powerful spells.”

  “Ever hear of an Arukh with magic?” I asked.

  “Zerika,” she shuddered. “But Zerika does fire magic.”