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Athyra

Page 24

by Steven Brust


  And what was she supposed to do when she had it? she wondered, but she nevertheless did as she was asked—she took it from the air, wrapping her feet around the bone part, trying to keep as far from the metal part as she could and—

  Is that what she was supposed to do? How?

  The other soft one, the one the Provider had been spending so much time with, the one who had saved him, was somewhere near here, but she couldn’t see him.

  Her mate could feel him? Well enough to know where his hand was? To direct her to ... Oh, very well, then.

  And so he guided her, and she went where he said, and, at the right time, she let the evil thing fall into the hand of the soft one who had saved the Provider—although it seemed odd to her that someone who would do that would have a use for such a thing. What would he do with it?

  Although she couldn’t see, she was able to tell what use he had for it—he plunged it into the side of the other soft one, the undead, who was on top of him, strangling the life out of him.

  The odd thing was that both of them screamed—first the one who had been stabbed, then the one who did the stabbing, and they both screamed where she could hear it more within her mind than in the room, and both screams went on for a long time.

  In fact, the one who was still alive didn’t stop screaming with his mind at all, even after he had stopped screaming with his voice. He kept screaming and screaming, even after the Provider managed to make a small amount of light appear, and to gather them all together, and to take them all far, far away from the place where the evil thing lay with the two bodies in the dark cavern. Epilogue

  The minstrel sent the Easterner a look containing equal portions of disgust and contempt. It didn’t seem to bother him; he was used to such things. But he avoided looking at the girl who sat by the fire, holding her brother’s hand. The two jhereg sat complacently on the Easterner’s shoulders, not terribly bothered by anything now that—in their reptilian opinions—the crisis was past. They finished up the scraps of the roasted athyra.

  “Well?” said Sara.

  “I’m glad you made it here.”

  “Your jhereg are good guides,” said Sara. “I had a pretty good idea what they wanted.”

  “I thought you might. Thanks for coming.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. And repeated, “Well?”

  “Well what? If you’re asking after my health, breathing doesn’t hurt as much as it did a couple of days ago.”

  “I’m not asking after your health, I’m asking after his.”

  Vlad apparently didn’t need to follow her glance to know of whom she was speaking—Savn sat staring into the fire, oblivious of the conversation, and of everything else going on around him.

  “His health is fine. But, as you can see—”

  “Yes. As I can see.”

  “I suppose I’m being hunted as a kidnapper.”

  “Among other things, yes. The village Speaker has appealed to the Empire, and he’s been ranting about gathering the entire region to hunt for you tree by tree and stone by stone. And their parents are in agony, wondering where they are, imagining you’ve killed them or used them for some Eastern ritual or something. I don’t know why I don’t summon—”

  “Summon who? The Jhereg? That’s been tried.”

  “Yes, I suppose it has. They found the body next to His Lordship’s. And they found the village physicker there, too.”

  “Wag? Really? Was he dead?”

  “No, barely alive. Did you do that to him?”

  “Do what?”

  She searched his eyes, trying to see if he was lying. Then she shrugged. “He’d been tortured.”

  “Oh. No, I imagine that Loraan and the assassin did that. It makes sense, at any rate; that’s probably how they found me.”

  “Well, he’s going to live. He says Savn physicked him. The child will be a good physicker, if he ever comes out of it.”

  “Yes. If.”

  Polyi glared at him. Sara guessed that there hadn’t been much small talk between Vlad and the girl in the two days since the death of Baron Smallcliff.

  Sara said, “So Loraan and the Jhereg found you. How did you beat them?”

  “I didn’t. He did.”

  Sara’s eyes turned to the Teckla boy, and widened. “He did?”

  “Yes. He nullified Loraan’s magic, helped distract the assassin, and, in the end, killed Loraan.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I couldn’t care less.”

  Sara chewed her lip. “Exactly what happened to him, anyway?”

  “I don’t know for certain. My guess is that the shock of even holding, much less using, a Morganti dagger was pretty severe, and I think he hit his head and was dazed before that happened, and then he killed his own lord. He woke up after I teleported us out of there, stared at his hand, bit it, screamed, and hasn’t said a word since.”

  “Oh,” said the minstrel.

  “He’ll do what he’s told, and he’ll eat, and he keeps himself clean.”

  “And that’s all.”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to keep moving. It would be a shame to let the townsfolk kill me after escaping Loraan and the Jhereg.”

  “And you want me to see to it the boy and his sister are returned home?”

  “No, only the sister.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it. The boy was seen with me, his friends tried to beat him up, and everyone’s going to figure out that he at least helped kill His Lordship, who was a pretty well-liked bastard, for an undead. What sort of life is the kid going to have around here?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that he saved my life, several times, and his only reward was being given such a shock that he has gone mad.”

  “What can you do about it?”

  “I can try to cure him, and keep him safe in the meantime.”

  “You’re going to wander around, running from the Jhereg, and keep a child with you?”

  “Yes. At least until he’s cured. After that, I don’t think he’ll be a child anymore, and he can make up his own mind.”

  “What makes you think he won’t hate you?”

  “He probably will.”

  “What makes you think you can cure him?”

  Vlad shrugged. “I have some ideas. I’ll try them. And I know people, if I get desperate.”

  “So you’re going to take him away from his family—”

  “That’s right. Until he’s cured. Then it’s up to him.”

  Sara stared at him for a long moment, then burst out, “You’re crazy!”

  “No, just in debt. And intending to discharge the debt.”

  “You can take the girl back to her family, and explain what I’m doing.”

  “They’ll never let you do this. They’ll hunt you down and kill you.”

  “How? I’ve avoided the Jhereg for more than two years, I can certainly avoid a few peasants long enough to see the boy cured.”

  Sara turned and looked at Savn, who continued to stare into the fire, and Polyi, who looked at her brother with red eyes. Sara said, “Polyi, what do you think of all this?”

  “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. “But he did this to Savn, so he ought to cure him, and then bring him back.”

  “That’s my opinion,” said Vlad.

  “Don’t you realize,” said Sara slowly, “that traveling with the boy is going to make you ten times—a hundred times as easy a target for the Jhereg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Work fast,” said Sara.

  “I intend to,” said Vlad.

  “Do you even have supplies for the journey?”

  “I have gold, and I can teleport, and I can steal.”

  Sara shook her head.

  Vlad stood up and reached a hand out. “Savn, come on.”

  The boy obediently stood, and Sar
a glanced at his eyes; they seemed empty.

  “Can you really heal his mind?” she asked.

  “One way or another,” said Vlad. “I will.”

  Polyi stood and hugged her brother, who seemed not to notice. She stepped back, gave Vlad a look impossible to describe, went over to Sara, and nodded.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Easterner,” said Sara.

  “You could wish me luck.”

  “Yes. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  He took the boy’s arm, and led him off into the woods, walking slowly as if his wounds still bothered him. Sara put her arm around the girl, who didn’t resist, and they watched the Easterner, the human, and the two jhereg until they disappeared.

  “Good luck,” Sara repeated softly to their backs.

  Then she turned to the girl and took her hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you home. Your Harvest Festival is beginning, and the gods alone know what sort of animals live out here.”

  The girl said nothing, but held onto Sara’s hand, tightly.

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