by Bill McCurry
The river spirit shrugged. Her long hair floated above her shoulders for a moment before settling. “Choose blood. I will only take one of you. If you choose brains and fail, I will take you all. Or you can turn back. I don’t care if you turn back.”
Vintan must have chosen blood and let his man be taken by the river. That was the smart move. I could probably say blood, snatch Desh up off the riverbank before he could run, and hurl him into the water. I looked back again and found Desh over my shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” he said.
“Don’t go falling in love with a river spirit, son. It never ends well.”
“Not her. The magic. A beautiful thing.”
“Hrothkir, it is time to choose,” the spirit said.
Desh was falling in love with magic, not the spirit. Foolishly in love with something that would break his heart if it didn’t kill him first. Most young men do that with something, maybe women, danger, or something else. Being a young man foolishly in love is one of the most pleasurable things the world has to offer, and I couldn’t quite convince myself to take it away from him.
Why didn’t I just collect my horse and ride away? At the time, I asked myself that very question. I might have done it, except that Vintan, the swamp-rancid Denzman who beheaded little girls, was on the other side of the river. He was crying out for me to come murder him, and I didn’t want to be a disappointment to him.
I winked at the spirit. “I choose brains.”
The river spirit bobbed like an empty bottle and smiled. “I will ask you three riddles.”
“Oh, come on! Everybody asks riddles. The pissant spirits of trees that don’t come up to my nipples ask riddles! You’re the spirit of the Blue River. You can think of something better than that. Really, aren’t you bored after centuries of asking a bunch of damn riddles?” It wouldn’t hurt to throw her off her stride, figuratively, since she probably never walked anywhere.
She looked at the water around her ankles. “Well…”
By now, Ella stood on one side of me and Desh stood on the other. Ella squeezed my arm and nodded.
“Do you know any games?” I asked. “You can challenge me to a game. If you win, it’s just as if you’d stumped me with riddles.”
“I know a game! It’s a wonderful game.” The spirit grinned and bobbed like a wine cork. “You’ll never win against me.”
“How do you play?”
The spirit came to the river’s edge with a swirl that sprayed water higher than my head. She raised her hand and produced a pair of wooden scissors, dark and smooth and as long as her palm. Opening the blades, she held the scissors out to me and said, “I give these to you open.”
Whatever this game was, I’d never heard of it. “Wait, what are the rules?”
“The game is figuring out the rules.”
I wished I’d just answered the damn riddles. I closed the blades and handed them to her, saying, “I give these to you closed.”
“Wrong. If you are wrong twice more, you lose. If you are correct three times before then, you win.” She left the blades closed and held them out. “I give these to you closed.”
I opened the blades. “I give these to you open.”
“Correct.”
I looked at the scissors in her hand. Other than being made of wood, nothing about them seemed odd, not a thing at all. “Are there really any rules? Is the rule that you get to cheat?”
She shook her head and left the blades open. “I give these to you closed.” As she was handing the scissors to me, I examined her fingers, the set of her mouth, the angle of her head, and whether her eyes were crossed. Nothing looked like it made a difference in what she said.
I left the blades open and said, “I give these to you closed.”
“Wrong again. If you make another mistake, you lose.” She opened the blades. “I give these to you open.”
As she handed them across, I stared at the water, thinking hard, and I saw her ankles were crossed. Just before she said “open” and handed over the scissors, she uncrossed her ankles.
If I got this one wrong, the spirit would kill us all when we tried to ford the river. And Ella would try to cross it, no matter what. I left the blades open. “I give these to you open.”
“Correct.” She left the blades open. I saw her cross her ankles as she said, “I give these to you closed.”
I made sure my feet were wide apart and handed the open scissors back to her. “I give these to you open.”
The river spirit stared at me for a moment, and then she closed her hand to make the scissors disappear. “Well… you are the victor. Would you like to try riddles now? I know some very good ones.”
“That is a kind offer, but I have urgent business on the other side of your beautiful river.”
“Fine. You and your people should cross quickly. I think there may be a storm soon.” She collapsed as if a bucket of water had been poured into the river.
I looked around and saw blue sky to the horizon in all directions. No one had ever told me that river spirits were petty. I’d have to keep that in mind.
We gathered the boys and the horses, and we crossed the river, although we had to yell at Ralt and shame him quite a bit to force him into the water. As we rode up onto the far bank, the river spirit rose again. “I presume you’ll be returning this way. When you try to cross on your journey home, I will not be playing games.”
A familiar feeling had hit me the moment my horse stepped into the river, and its presence sickened me a little. It felt like a soft breeze sweeping my skin, even under my clothes, but it drifted away when I stopped thinking about it. However, it did leave behind an unpleasant warm spot in my left armpit, a whimsical gift from the gods to go along with making magic possible. I hadn’t thought about this feeling for a long time.
Considering the random appearance of a magical being, I had half-expected magic to pop up like a feral groundhog, with nothing good or even admirable about it. I could ignore this magical power, save it for emergencies, or snatch this rare opportunity to protect us from anybody else wandering the southlands with a feral groundhog of their own. I took mental inventory, and I had just enough power left over from the old days.
I reached out my right hand, pulled a glowing yellow band out of nothing, and whipped it around the river spirit’s neck. She screamed as I said, “Limnad, I bind you.” I reached with both hands and tied each of her ankles with orange bands. “Limnad, I bind you.”
Ella had drawn her sword and was shouting over the spirit’s screams. “What’s happening? Who’s killing her?” It made sense for Ella to be confused, since only I could see the bands I’d created.
A moment later, I had wrapped two more orange bands around the spirit’s wrists. “Limnad, I bind you.”
This whole escapade would have been mighty awkward if the river spirit’s name hadn’t been Limnad. However, I’d once overheard Gorlana, Goddess of Mercy, say how much she hated the prissy spirits of the Blue River, especially that royal bitch Limnad. So, I had guessed this was her, and if I’d guessed wrong, I would have just ridden like hell out of that valley and never come back.
“Sorcerer!” Limnad screamed. “I will feed your eyes to the turtles! I will make spears from your bones!”
“You have a right to be upset, Limnad—”
“Stop saying my name!”
“I do apologize. I will find a way to repair this to your satisfaction, I promise. By the way, Gorlana says hello.”
Limnad stiffened.
I rode to the water’s edge near where she floated. “You have earned my deep respect during the few minutes we’ve known one another. I find I cannot bear to part company with a being of such wit and power as yourself.”
“Bib…” Ella cautioned.
I smiled at Limnad. “Darling, you are coming with me.”
“You cannot hold me forever. You look strong. I can torture you for years before your heart rips itself into gobbets and strips.”
&
nbsp; “I’ll allow that you might do that. But like I said, I’ll try to make it up to you.”
“Bib!” Ella said. “I need to speak with you this minute!”
I gazed around. Desh looked as if I’d just given him a puppy.
Ella looked like I’d just skinned her puppy and eaten it.
Nine
I have met people who considered me hasty, and I can’t mount an honest defense against them in every case. I confess to magically binding a supernatural being that I knew little about, except that she wanted to torture and kill me, so I could take her into an unknown territory. I further confess I didn’t consider the decision for too long before I acted.
Yet my decision was not hasty, for many reasons. Maybe the best reason was that I didn’t want her waiting to drown me when I rode back across the Blue River going north. Also, if I overtook Vintan and his riders, I might be glad to have a river spirit along to slap him with whatever nasty magic she knew. Her powers would be much diminished out of water, but if someone attacked us next to a river, she would be like a giant hammer I could whack them with.
None of us knew anything about the Denz Lands, which was a considerable disadvantage. If I could win Limnad over a bit, she would be an invaluable guide. If not, I could force her to answer specific questions, although they’d better be important ones. Whenever I gave her a command, one of the five bands would slip loose. After five commands, she’d be free. I needed to make peace with her before that fifth command, else I’d better give it to her in a note while I was on the other side of a mountain.
I had bound Limnad for one other reason that wasn’t too practical, but I found it persuasive. I didn’t want to kill her. Throughout the contest, and then the binding, I never felt even a tiny desire to murder her. In the years since I accepted Harik’s bargain, I had wanted to kill every person I met, adult and child, and for every one of them I killed, there were hundreds, maybe thousands, that I didn’t. That did not make me a virtuous man. It made me a murderer who could have murdered more. But I guess I only wanted to kill human beings, because meeting Limnad was like putting down a weight I’d forgotten I was carrying.
I never was able to explain my reasoning to Ella because of all the yelling and unexpectedly creative cursing, so she forever after thought that binding Limnad had been the act of a reckless idiot. After a couple minutes of this abuse, I screamed, “Do you want to call me a son of a bitch, or do you want to go after the prince?”
Ella stopped yelling, as flushed and panting as if she’d been beating me with a club. She stalked away and mounted her horse.
I said, “Let’s go, boys.” Ralt and Stan had been standing over by the trees, pretending to examine a horse’s hoof and glancing at us now and then. I turned toward Desh and saw him chasing after Limnad, asking foolish questions, and following her as she cursed at him in a spirit language while walking away. She was moving around on land without any problems that I could see.
“Desh! She is a superior being with magical sight, so she likely knows about every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done. Stop pestering her.” I wasn’t aware of any being with that kind of magical sight, but if it stopped him from making Limnad angrier, then it was a good lie.
A mile on south from the river, we found a corpse lying on the trail, faceup, split from breast to groin. He wasn’t pale like the Denzmen; his skin was tan and his hair light, like the people of Glass. Somebody had pushed a rough-folded leather pouch into the still-warm wound. I pulled it free, and a rolled scrap of parchment fell out as the leather flopped loose.
Bib,
I position this note here against the eventuality that you have refused to withdraw, despite my earnest plea. You are without doubt a man of great will and ability, but you cannot prevail. Once given a charge, I have never failed. My king has entrusted to me a task, and I assure you I will pursue the most expedient path to victory, regardless of consideration or cost. Few comprehend the full meaning of that philosophy—to prevail regardless of consideration or cost. Turn back, or you will make me your enemy and come to understand my philosophy in its entirety.
Come, sir, the lands north of the Blue River house a profusion of men to be slain. In comparison, my land offers but meager opportunities to exercise your skill.
Also, be assured that Prestwick is well, and I give you my pledge that he shall continue to be treated with respect and care.
—Vintan Reth
“What does it say?” Ella asked.
“Nothing important. Vintan’s inviting us over to visit. Maybe we’ll stay for supper.”
Ella narrowed her eyes at me. “Do not lie to me!”
“All right, Vintan is as crazy as a blind goose and as mean as a tiger. He’ll kill us all if we take another step south. But he and the prince are playing games and eating plum candy.”
She stared at me, mouth open. “What?”
“I embellished a bit, but that’s the heart of it. Now, let’s go kill Vintan before he gets any crazier.”
We cantered on south, pushing our horses as much as we dared. We had lost an hour at the river to games and binding and getting cursed at by Ella, but Vintan probably wasn’t much more than an hour ahead of us. As we rode, Stan and Ralt shouted at each other, still arguing over who would get to go back when we had marked the prince’s trail to Ella’s satisfaction. She had changed her mind about sending back a messenger just yet. She didn’t explain, but her eyes strayed to Limnad when she told me her decision. Limnad kept pace as we traveled, even unmounted, bounding along as graceful as a deerhound.
Half an hour up from the river, a mist began sweeping in. It thickened fast, soon forcing us to a nervous walk. I could just see Ella three lengths behind me, but I couldn’t see the others past her at all. Then fog closed in like batter poured into a pan, and everything past my horse’s ears dissolved.
“Everybody, stop,” I demanded.
Stan whined, “What in the rotting pig’s bangers is all this fog doing here?”
“Quiet!” I listened hard for about a minute and couldn’t hear anything but our horses breathing. I hated so badly to do this next thing, but something hiding in the fog didn’t like us at all. “Limnad. Get rid of this fog.”
“I can’t. You son of a bitch.” Limnad laughed from out of the fog. “I like that, blonde woman. Thank you for yelling that insult where I could hear. Hrothkir, I can’t get rid of it, you son of a bitch.”
I sighed and scanned the fog. “Why can’t you get rid of it, Limnad?”
“This fog is unnatural.”
“You can’t blow away a magical fog?”
“Not magical, you simpleminded fish’s anus. Divine.” Limnad taunted me, “Yes, why don’t you curse the gods, Hrothkir? Say something profane, Hrothkir. Maybe Krak will burn you to Hrothkir-cinders. I hope that first he clears the fog so I can watch. By the way, you have used up one of your commands.”
I nodded. I couldn’t see Limnad, but she almost certainly was watching me. “I know.”
I waited a little more, silent and stationary. Then my horse jerked, and to my left a shape insinuated itself in the fog before it surged toward me. A circle of fog fifty feet around me just disappeared, like it had been scooped out with a giant spoon. The shape on my left turned out to be a Denzman, and we stared at one another. I recovered first, drew my sword, and sliced him across the skull from crown to cheekbone. His horse ran past me, with him hanging onto it by the neck. That left me alone, but I heard shouts and fighting from off in the fog.
I wheeled and trotted toward the sound of metal clanging, through a dense slice of mist and right back out into a huge circle of open air. Ella and Desh were fighting three Denzmen on horseback. I killed one from behind right away, slicing through the back of his neck. Desh’s horse reared, and he fell. Ella stabbed a man in the belly, and the remaining Denzman charged toward Desh with his spear leveled. Ella threw her sword at the man and hit his horse instead, which broke stride. The spear slammed into Desh’s leg instead
of his chest. The weapon broke, the boy went limp, and the Denzman rode off into the fog.
I heard Ralt roaring somewhere, but he stopped after a few seconds. Ella and I both dismounted and ran to kneel over Desh, who was unconscious. The spear had smashed into his knee, which was pulverized and three-fourths severed from his thigh. Blood was pulsing out of his leg from the big artery and pooling in the grass. Ella grabbed his thigh with one hand and tried to hold in the blood with her other.
“Don’t just watch! Make a tourniquet!” she said.
“We can’t do anything with this. He’s going to die.”
She yelled. She didn’t make any words—she just yelled at life for being this way.
Desh opened his eyes but lay there relaxed, as if he didn’t feel pain. I hoped he’d stay that way until he died.
Ella yelled, “Bib! Don’t sit there and watch him die as if he were an insect in the road! Do something! At least pretend to do something for this boy, you worthless old man!” She looked at me like I was something that hid in the dark and fed off human fluids.
That hit hard. Not the part about being an old man, but the part about not even twitching a finger to help the boy. Well, Desh was a man, but just barely. Boys die all the time, and people hardly notice. I couldn’t easily ignore Desh while Ella was screaming at me about him from one foot away.
Part of me didn’t want to let him die. It wanted to hurry up and kill him before he died on his own and I missed my chance. “Harik, you’re an ass-leaking oaf,” I muttered.
Ella glared at me, as ferocious as any torturer. Maybe she would have killed me, but her hands were busy trying to hold Desh’s life inside him.
I grabbed Desh’s hand and leaned over him, my face almost touching his. “Do you still want to be a sorcerer?” He might have nodded. I wasn’t sure, but I decided to believe it was a nod. “Now’s the time to do something about it.”