Athyra

by Steven Brust

  When he arrived at Master Wag’s, he was greeted with the words, “I didn’t expect you to be here today. How’s our patient?”

  “He was well when I left him, about five hours ago.”

  “Had he eaten?”

  “Yes.”

  “No fever?”

  “None.”

  “Still weak?”

  “Very.”

  “Did he empty his bowels?”

  “No. Liquid only.”

  “Hmmm. Not good, but not yet bad, either.”

  “Are they still looking for him?”

  The Master nodded. “Not with any great intensity, perhaps, but Speaker insisted that they keep searching the area until they were certain he had left.”

  “That sounds like they think he did.”

  “Speaker probably does, but that doesn’t much matter. They’ll keep looking, I’m afraid, and eventually they’ll find the caves.”

  “It may take a long time.”

  “Oh, yes. It would take days to just search the caves—they’re immense, convoluted, and lead all the way back into the cliff. But still—”

  “Yes. I hope they don’t get to them soon.”

  “In any case, Savn, the Easterner shouldn’t be alone for very long. He could relapse at any time.”

  “All right,” said Savn. “I’ll return at once.”

  “No, as long as you’re here, you may as well relax for a while. We can discuss that procedure you performed. I want to show you just what you did, and why it worked, so you can be more certain next time.”

  Which is what they did for the next hour; the Master explained the problem and the cure, while Savn listened more intently than he ever had before. It was different, he realized, when you knew exactly why you were doing something, when you’d actually seen someone with the injury and were learning how to save him.

  After that, the conversation drifted onto other matters of the healing arts, and even here Savn noticed a difference in the Master’s attitude: he was less brusque and somehow more respectful of Savn—as if by saving the Easterner, Savn had proven himself to Master Wag.

  At one point, the Master stopped in the middle of explaining the sort of thoughts that must be kept out of the head of a person in danger of fever, and said, “What is bothering you, Savn? You seem disturbed about something.”

  “I’m not certain, Master.”

  The Master looked at him closely. “Is it,” he said, “that you aren’t certain you should have saved the Easterner? Because, if that is the trouble, it shouldn’t bother you. Saving lives is our trade—all lives. Even, sometimes, that of livestock. Yes, if it is a choice between saving the life of a human being and saving the life of an Easterner, that is one thing. But in this case, you found someone who was injured and you cured him. It is no betrayal of His Lordship for you to perform your calling.”

  “It isn’t that, Master. I think it’s Mae and Pae.”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, they’ve been acting funny, that’s all.”

  “Funny? What do you mean?”

  “Well, they seem distracted, like they’re far away.”

  “Explain what you mean, Savn. Be precise.”

  “It’s hard to, Master. It’s a feeling I have. But when Polyi and I were out all night, they didn’t say a word to us about it.”

  “You’re growing up, Savn. They recognize this, and feel you can be trusted more. That’s all it is.”

  Savn shook his head. “I’m afraid Vlad put a spell on them.”

  The Master cocked his head. “A spell? What sort of spell, and why would he do something like that?”

  “A witchcraft spell.”

  “Witchcraft!” said the Master. “Nonsense. If you believe all of the rubbish that—Hullo, is someone there?”

  There did, indeed, seem to be someone clapping at the door. Savn got up and opened it, and was startled to find himself looking up at Fird, the fruit-seller from Bigcliff.

  Savn stared, open-mouthed, his thoughts racing. For one thing, he had forgotten how tall Fird was. For another, Vlad had been asking about him just the other day, and ... Savn realized he was being rude. He closed his mouth, opened it again, and said, “May I be of some service to you?”

  “I be here looking,” said Fird, in his low, careful voice, and with the odd grammatical formulations of Bigcliff, “for Master Wag.”

  “Who is it?” called the Master from inside.

  “Please come in,” said Savn, stepping out of Fird’s way.

  “My thanks to you for that,” said Fird, ducking his head as he passed under the Master’s doorway. Over his shoulder was a large sack, which Savn assumed contained the fruit he’d been selling.

  The Master rose as he entered, and said, “What seems to be the matter, goodman?”

  “A note is sent me to you, by for this Eastern devil. You know him?”

  “Eastern devil?” said Master Wag and Savn with one voice. The Master gave Savn a look, then continued. “Do you mean the Easterner, Vlad?”

  “The same as him, yes,” said Fird.

  “I know him. He sent you a note?”

  “That were, or the mountains grew him.”

  Savn had to stop and figure this one out, but Master Wag said, “May I see it?”

  “To you be done, then,” said Fird, and handed a small piece of pale, almost white parchment to the Master. The Master, in turn, frowned, read it several times, and, with a look that asked permission of Fird, handed it to Savn.

  At first, Savn mentally tsked at the Easterner’s penmanship; then he wondered how Vlad had written it. It had probably been done in wood-ash using a dagger’s point. It read: “Sorry I missed you I’ve been hurt ask Master Wag to bring you to me I’ll pay gold.”

  Savn handed it back to Fird, while the Master asked, “How do you know him?”

  “How? As one will know another. Gold he is offered to me, and then he is not where his promise is. I be curious, I be finding fruit in sack, I be finding note, I be reading, I be coming here. But you he is knowing, and this I be in wonder at.”

  “He’s hurt, as he said,” said the Master. “I helped him.”

  “So?” said Fird, shrugging. “He is hurt. I have mangoes and apples, which will cure like a physicker.”

  “Maybe,” said the Master, sounding doubtful.

  “Apples. Apple’s the thing. Where with to—”

  “Savn here will lead you to him.”

  “Master—”

  “You think it’s a trick?”

  “Well—”

  “If His Lordship, or Speaker, or anyone else knows enough to attempt this sort of trick, it doesn’t much matter if we fall for it.”

  “Not to us, but—”

  “Think about it, Savn. Think about how much they would have to know.”

  “Trick?” said Fird. “Is what this—”

  “The Easterner,” said Master Wag, “is hurt because some people tried to kill him. Savn is concerned that—”

  “Ah. Well, is to careful, then, but I—”

  “Yes, I know,” said the Master. “Savn?”

  “All right. Should we go now?” Both Fird and Master Wag nodded.

  “I may join you later, to check on our patient, or else I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Very well, Master,” said Savn, and led the way out the door and down the road toward the Curving Stone.

  He was saved from the necessity of deciphering Fird’s speech by the fact that Fird didn’t seem inclined to make conversation, and Savn, for his part, didn’t know what to say. Just past the Curving Stone he led the way into the woods, through them, and out over Bigcliff. Fird looked down with interest at the beach where, though he probably didn’t know it, Savn had first pointed him out to Vlad.

  Savn still wondered what the Easterner wanted with the fruit-seller. As they approached the cave, Fird stopped, sniffed the air, and said his first words since they set out: “Norska is been roasted.”

 
Savn smelled it too, and repressed a chuckle. So much for the smell not getting out. “This way,” he said, and led Fird into the cave. “Can you make a light?”

  Fird grunted, and a soft red glow filled the cavern. They went through the first, large chamber, and Savn led the way unerringly into the correct passage, and another large chamber. Here, even though Savn half expected it, he was startled by the flapping of wings as the jhereg appeared before him. Fird jumped, and his sorcerous light wavered for a moment as Savn said, “It’s all right, they won’t hurt us.” Fird didn’t appear convinced, but watched the jhereg closely and kept a short knife in his hand.

  The jhereg flew around the opening for a moment, then disappeared.

  “Is Easterner magic to tame carrion-eaters?” asked Fird.

  “I guess,” said Savn.

  Fird’s mouth twitched. “Then is onward.”

  They continued, Fird ducking to traverse corridors that Savn was able to walk through upright, until they saw the flickering glow of the torches.

  Savn called out, “Vlad? It’s Savn. Fird, the fruit-seller, is with me.”

  There was a rustling sound ahead, and in the dim light Savn was able to make out Vlad turning his head. “Good,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Weak. But a little better, I think.”

  “Great.”

  “Sorry I missed our appointment, Fird. Glad you got the note.”

  Fird was watching Vlad carefully. He said, “Note is arrived, but the wondering is from its means of travel.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Magic is that of the Easterner, is to wonder what else you is to have done or will do?”

  “For one thing,” said Vlad. “Give you a certain amount of gold, in exchange for answering some questions. Have you been to—” He paused and looked at Savn.

  “Would you like me to leave?”

  “Please,” said Vlad. “I’m sorry, but I’d rather this not be overheard.”

  Savn shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care, and, taking one of the burning torches, wandered back out of the cave. To his surprise, the larger of the jhereg accompanied him. He was even more surprised to realize that this no longer bothered him. Finding a comfortable-looking spot beneath a tree just outside the cave, he put out the torch and settled down with his back against the trunk. The jhereg perched on a low branch of the same tree.

  Savn looked up at it, and it looked back, as if waiting for Savn to start the conversation. “I would like to know,” said Savn obligingly, “what they’re talking about in there.”

  The jhereg stared at him with unblinking, reptilian eyes.

  “And while we’re on the subject,” he continued, “I’d like to know how close the searchers are getting to this cave. If I knew how long we had, I—well, I don’t know what I’d do. But I’d like to know.

  “And, since I’m asking questions, just what did Vlad do to Mae and Pae? I know, I know. He put a spell on them.”

  He frowned and studied the ground between his feet. He’d known since last night that Vlad had enchanted them, but it seemed to take a long time for the fact to make its way into his bones. There was something so evil about doing such a thing—about magically clouding someone’s eyes, muffling his thoughts—that he couldn’t really think of it as something done by the Easterner lying helpless a hundred yards into the hill.

  And the thought that, even now, Mae and Pae were under the influence of whatever spell Vlad had cast was utterly foreign to his emotions; he didn’t know how to look at it. The anger that ought to be his natural response simply wouldn’t appear.

  He tried to imagine himself confronting the half-dead Vlad and telling him off for it, but his imagination failed. He thought about doing nothing until Vlad felt better, but that didn’t seem right either.

  “What would you do?” he asked the jhereg.

  It ducked its head under its wing and cleaned itself, then seemed to settle more fully onto the branch and looked around with, Savn imagined, an expression of mild curiosity.

  “So, what am I waiting for? I’m not going to ask him about Mae and Pae. Why am I here? In case he has a relapse? But am I going to heal him after what he did? Of course I am; I can’t let him die.”

  He stared at the jhereg, who seemed completely uninterested in his problems. He scowled at it. “What I should do is abandon Vlad and see what I can do for Mae and Pae. Sure. Good idea. But what can I do for them? They’ve been enchanted; I don’t know anything about enchantments.”

  He stopped, feeling his eyes grow wide. “But Bless does. Bless knows all about curses of the gods, and whatever this Easterner did, it can’t be that bad. That’s it. Vlad can take care of himself; I have to find Bless.”

  And, with no more reflection or questions, he stood and dashed off toward town.

  Twilight made the outlines of the livery stable indistinct as Savn came up over the top of the hill. He stopped and surveyed the city. There were a few people on the outskirts, talking, as there always were; Savn could make out Tif from her posture and Boarder from his hair, and there were others he didn’t yet recognize. At the far end a few people moved about, but they were too far away to identify. However, he was certain he saw a two-horse wagon not far from Speaker’s, and Bless was one of the few (as was Savn’s family) who drove two horses.

  He started down the hill, and couldn’t help but notice how the gossips outside of Feeder’s stopped talking and watched him pass. It was creepy. But they didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t see any of his friends.

  Bless and On came out of Speaker’s house and climbed into the wagon. Savn ran up to them, waving. Bless saw him, checked the horses, and waited. Ori looked at him with mild curiosity. Bless’s face was round, his eyes were very widely set, and the look on his face seemed suspi—

  cious, as if he wasn’t certain Savn was doing what he was supposed to do.

  “The evening’s rain to you, sir.”

  “And to you, young man. Where have you been this last day?”

  “Where have I been, sir?”

  “Yes, the whole town has gathered to look for this Easterner, and your absence was noticed.”

  “I didn’t know. Why were you looking for him, sir?”

  “That is none of your concern, young man. You should be glad that it is I and not Speaker who wants to know, or you can be sure the questions would be rougher in the asking and quicker in the answering.”

  “Yes, sir.” Savn didn’t look at Ori, but he was aware of him there, watching, and it made Savn angry and uncomfortable.

  “So where were you?” asked Bless.

  Savn heard himself answer, “I was looking for him, too.”

  “You were?”

  “Yes, sir. I saw what happened, and he was hurt, and I thought he might need physicking, and—”

  “Physicking!” thundered Bless. “Of all the nerve! This Easterner killed—actually killed—three of His Lordship’s men-at-arms, and you want to physick him?”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “I should hope so! He has already done more evil here than you can imagine.”

  “I know, sir. That’s what I wanted to ask you about.”

  That seemed to catch Bless up short. “Eh? Is there something I don’t know about?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s Mae and Pae.”

  “Well? What about them?”

  “I wonder if you could ... that is, I think they’ve been enchanted.”

  Bless made a peculiar sound with his mouth and nose. “Enchanted?” he said. “And by whom?”

  “By Vlad, the Easterner.”

  “Oh, he’s a wizard, is he?”

  “No, sir, a witch.”

  “Rubbish,” said Bless. “A witch can’t do anything to you unless you believe he can. Have you spoken to Master Wag about this? What does he say about witches?”

  “The same as you, sir, only—”

  “Well, there you have it.”
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  “But—”

  Bless sighed. “Very well. What makes you think this witch has done something to them?”

  “They’ve been acting funny. I mean, really funny.”

  Bless sniffed. “Maybe they’re concerned about you.”

  “That’s just it. They’re not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they don’t seem to care what I do.”

  “Eh? That’s the first time I’ve heard that complaint from a young man. What did you do that they didn’t care about?”

  Savn realized that he was in dangerous waters. He wanted to say enough to convince Bless to do something, but not so much that Bless would know what he’d been up to.

  “Well, I stayed out playing, and they didn’t do anything about it. They didn’t seem to even notice.”

  “I see. And because of this you think they’re enchanted?”

  “Well, yes. If you’d seen the way they’ve been acting—”

  “I saw them two days past, and they seemed quite fine to me.”

  “It hadn’t happened yet.”

  “Young man, I believe that you are suffering from a disease called bad conscience. Instead of seeing mysterious enchantments everywhere, I’d recommend you start doing what you should be doing, and I suspect everything will be fine.”

  “But—”

  “But at the moment, I’ve got bigger problems. While this Easterner may not be casting spells on everyone’s mother, he is out there somewhere, and I must see to it that he is found before he does any more damage. Now be on your way.”

  Without waiting for Savn’s answer, Bless motioned for Ori to drive off. Savn clenched his fists with frustration. Why did everyone only see what he wanted to?

  Savn looked around to make sure he hadn’t attracted any attention, and saw, to his dismay, Lan and Tuk walking by on the opposite side of the street, staring at him. They looked away when he stared back, which was almost worse than if they’d tried to beat him up again.

  He turned and headed for home. Maybe Polyi would say something that would cheer him up.

  The walk home was long, and it was nearly dark by the time he got there. Mae and Pae were still busy, and when they bid him a good day, it seemed that they were even further away than they had been.