Gertie grunted. “Control like that’s unusual for a novice. We’ll get you a wizard stone when we reach Gambollia.”
“Will that help?”
“Should do.” Gertie emptied her pipe and tucked it back in the bag. “Unless the wizard is matched to the right stone, it’s nothing but a rock. But fit the wizard to the stone, and you’ve got something.”
“But what does it do?”
“It’s a conduit. It focuses energy—channels it, so to speak. With a wizard stone, the power flows through you, not from you, and it’s greatly amplified.”
The barge bumped against a stone pylon on the bank and a sailor hurried to tie them off.
Mauric strode up. “Looks like we’re stopping for the night, mor. Thought I might lend a hand with the horses.”
“If the captain doesn’t mind.”
“He won’t. Your cooking has mellowed him.”
Gertie grunted, her gaze on the landing. A small building stood at the far end of the dock, a light shining in the window. Inside the hut, a man in a blue and gold uniform moved around. Captain Braxx rang a bell at the end of the dock. A door slammed and the man in the uniform strolled down the pier, a lantern in one hand and a sturdy metal box in the other. He held the lamp aloft so that the light shone on the side of the barge, casting the name Lady Gar in sharp relief.
“Evening, Captain Braxx,” the man said in a cordial tone.
There was the clink of metal on metal as the captain deposited a coin in the iron box chained to the post.
“Evening, Thorpe. Quiet night?”
“Been quiet for days now, Captain, ’cept for them agents.”
“Agents?”
Thorpe pushed his cap back. “Couple of Glonoff’s agents come by here last week. Seems one of them Shaddish nobles has gone and lost his daughter. There’s a reward.”
The man lifted his lantern higher. Drawing his knife, Mauric stepped in front of Raine, blocking her from the wharf keep’s view. Startled by the warrior’s unexpected aggression, Raine gave Gertie a sideways glance and did a double take. The troll had vanished.
“Careless sort of thing, even for a noble, to misplace a child,” Braxx was saying. “Some folks have more money than sense.”
“Aye,” Thorpe agreed. “Reckon if I put on a dress, they’d adopt me? I’d like to live in a big fancy house and eat figs and smoke gurshee all day.”
“Doubt it, Thorpe. You’d make one garffin ugly girl.”
A ripple of movement drew Raine’s attention away from the men, and she gasped. A cluster of thin black lines bunched and reformed like an animated black and white drawing. The troll had made herself invisible and was moving across the deck on all-fours, her outline etched within the moving bands. Glancing around, Raine realized that the others couldn’t see the troll, but she could. The knowledge made her uncomfortable, as if she’d caught the troll in her underwear.
The shadowy figure slunk across the deck toward Braxx. Gertie was stalking the captain. Braxx shifted uneasily, as though he sensed the troll. He glanced over his shoulder. His gaze passed over the crouching troll and moved on.
The wharf keep saw Mauric and stepped back. “Gar, who’s the big feller, Braxx? Got to be a Finlar, from the size o’ him. Didn’t think you hired foreigners.”
Braxx shrugged. “I made an exception. Strong as three men, he is, and dumb as a brick besides.”
“All brawn and no brains, eh? The perfect bargeman.” Thorpe laughed. “Glad I don’t have to feed the great lug.” He reached inside his uniform and produced a crumpled piece of parchment. “This is the gal them Shads are looking for.”
He handed the parchment to Braxx. The captain studied it without blinking and handed the poster back. “Sorry, Thorpe. Haven’t seen her.”
“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” Thorpe said. “Night, Braxx.”
“Night, Thorpe.”
Raine heard the crunch of boots on gravel, followed by the slam of the door in the little hut. Thorpe had retired for the night.
“You can sheathe your knife now, warrior,” Braxx said in a low voice. “I’ve no wish to feel the kiss of your blade between my shoulders.” He glanced around the dark deck. “Where’d that troll get off to?”
“Right here, Captain.” Gertie materialized beside him, her fangs bared.
“Gar,” Braxx said, stumbling back. “Don’t sneak up on a man like that. I didn’t know you were there.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” said Gertie. “Wise of you not to betray us. One word about Raine, and you’d be dancing in your own tripes.”
Braxx stiffened. “Some on this barge don’t know near as much as they think they do. Some people—and I use the term ‘people’ loosely, mind you—should know a captain is honor bound to protect his guests, once he’s broken bread with them.”
“Don’t take it personally, Captain,” Raine said. “Gertie and Mauric can be a tad overprotective. Right, Mauric?”
Mauric gave Raine a blank stare, his expression as merciless and unforgiving as winter, and slid his knife back into his boot. Stalking across the deck without a word, he stretched out on a pallet next to Chaz.
Gertie slapped the captain on the shoulder. “I’m guessing that’s a no. But don’t worry, Braxx. I’m starting to like you.”
“You don’t know how much that relieves me. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m having nightmares tonight of being disemboweled.”
The captain turned and stomped away.
Chapter 27
Mud Goggin
Braxx steered clear of the troll for the next several days, speaking to her seldom, and then only through a third person. Some on this barge, his missives to the troll invariably began. But Gertie proved up to the challenge, thawing the ice on the fourth day by serving apple fritters and fried ham for breakfast.
“What’s that?” Braxx jabbed an accusing finger at the yellow mound on his plate.
“Eggs,” Gertie said. “Have you been on the river so long you’ve forgot what they look like?”
“Where’d you get eggs? Did you lay them?”
“Don’t be an ignorant ass. Trolls bear their young live, same as humans.”
“I’m talking about when you’s a birdie.”
“I didn’t lay them.” Gertie made a grab for the plate and missed. “Give me the damn eggs. If you won’t eat them, someone on this scow will.”
“Give them to me,” said Mauric. “I like eggs.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Braxx whisked the plate out of Mauric’s reach. “Don’t know where you’d put them, anyway. You’ve already eaten enough to choke a horse.”
“Chaz ate more than I did.”
Raine gasped. “For shame, Mauric Lindar, making up whoppers about a little boy. He had one slice of ham and a fritter. I served him myself.”
“He filled his plate three more times when you weren’t looking,” Mauric said. “The lad eats like a warrior grown.”
Raine worried her bottom lip. “That seems like an awful lot.” She felt the child’s forehead. “Do you feel all right, honey?”
The boy’s brows drew together over eyes the color of an autumn sky. “I’m fine. Quit fussing.”
“Chaz, your eyes . . . they’re blue.” Raine whirled around. “Mauric, Chaz has blue eyes.”
“So? Lots of people have blue eyes.” He cocked a brow. “I have blue eyes, if you’d but notice.”
“Chaz’s eyes are brown.”
“Are they now? Make up your mind, lass. They can’t be both.”
Raine stamped her foot. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He can change the color of his eyes.” She pointed. “Look, they’ve turned brown again.”
Gertie tromped over. “What’s the ruckus?”
“Raine’s in a flap, because the boy can change the color of his eyes.”
Gertie squatted next to Chaz. “Show me, boy.”
Chaz’s eyes turned greenish-gold, an exact match for the troll’s.
“Huh.” Gertie got to her feet. “As talents go, it’s a bit unusual, but I wouldn’t let it worry you. Off with you, boy,” she said, patting Chaz on the rump. He wandered over to the helm, where he began to pepper Braxx with questions. When he was out of earshot, Gertie murmured, “The mablet’s odd, Raine. He’s grown the length of two hands in the last sennight, and have you marked the way he’s charmed the captain? When we first came aboard, Braxx couldn’t stand the sight of him. Now the two of them are thick as thieves.”
“Now that you mention it, he does look taller.”
“Try not to fret,” Gertie said. “If the boy’s an adept, we’ll know soon enough.”
She left Raine and strolled to the bow to spar with Mauric, a daily ritual that, more often than not, ended in a wrestling match. Sometimes, Gertie even let Mauric win.
Raine followed and sat down, leaning against a stack of bales to watch. They’d left the bitter cold of the mountains far behind them, but winter still held the land in an icy grip. It was a glorious, clear day, and the swamp gleamed in the pearly light. Birds called from the trees along the bank and squawked and chittered among the reeds. The sun glinted on the water, and Raine stared at the sparkles, mesmerized. The buzzing that was always at the edge of her awareness intensified. The snuffle of the water horses, the slosh of the river against its banks, and Braxx’s booming voice faded, and the swamp blurred and disappeared. Reflected in the glistening water, Raine saw an opulent boudoir with marble floors and a soaring, frescoed ceiling decorated with images of a stern, handsome god with eyes the color of sapphires.
She leaned closer, intrigued. A massive bed dominated the spacious room. Icy blue and white curtains hung from the canopy around it. On the floor, silk dresses lay in shreds like so many strewn flower petals. The wide doors of the room stood open to a spacious balcony with a white stone balustrade. Through the opening, Raine could see the outline of an alabaster city with spired buildings and red streets. Servants scurried to and from the chamber. Heads bowed, they carried gowns, chests of jewels, and trays of oils and scents. A woman in clinging silk stood at the center of the bustle. Her glossy black tresses swished around her hips as she paced. She was lovely, with a curving body and a slim waist, but her face was flushed and her sensuous mouth was drawn tight with anger. Though her lips moved, Raine could not hear what she was saying. It was like watching television with the sound muted.
A servant got too close and received a cuff for her trouble. Blood spurted from the girl’s cut lip. She turned her back to her mistress to wipe it away, and Raine caught a glimpse of the maid’s face. She recoiled. There was a lump of red scar tissue where the girl’s nose should have been. A fish jumped, rippling the water, and the plush room and the raging beauty evaporated. Raine blinked, disoriented. Had she hallucinated the whole thing?
Mimsie appeared on a wash of cold air. “Yoo-hoo. Anybody home?”
She sat down next to Raine and arranged her skirts. The ghost made a pretty picture in a sleeveless yellow dress and matching sandals. “You okay? You seemed to be in a trance. Where’d you go?”
“I saw Hara . . . at least, I think it was Hara. She’s gorgeous, but I don’t think she’s a very nice person.”
An understatement. From all appearances, her twin was a freaking nightmare.
“Saw her?” Mimsie scrutinized her. “You had a vision?”
“I guess so . . . I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it.”
The sun was hot, and Raine removed her heavy cloak and laid it on the deck beside her.
“Mary Raine,” Mimsie said, “what in heaven’s name are you wearing?”
“Hand-me-downs. Wool trousers and a tunic.”
“You could fit two of you in there. They’re miles too big.”
“I know,” Raine said, “but they’re a sight better than cotton pajamas and a blanket.”
“What are those?” Mimsie asked in a tone of revulsion, pointing to Raine’s feet.
“Muckers.” Raine lifted one foot to show off her boots. “Cap’n Braxx says they’re standard issue on the river. I rub them down with wax every night to keep them waterproof.”
“They’re hideous.”
“They keep my feet dry, and that’s more than I can say for those fur booties I was wearing.” Raine straightened. “Uh oh. We’ve been busted.”
Mauric and Gertie had stopped sparring, and were staring at the ghost in astonishment.
Gertie tromped over. “Say, is that . . . ?”
“Yep,” Raine said. “This is Mims Carlisle, my aunt. Mimsie, this is Gertie.” Mauric strolled up. “And Mauric.”
Mimsie looked the warrior up and down. “My, my, my, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Stop that,” Raine said. “You’re scaring him.”
“He doesn’t look scared to me,” Mimsie said. “He looks interested.”
“For crying out loud, you’re dead.”
“Sugar, I’ll never be that dead.”
“Enough,” Gertie said. “Why are you here, shade?”
“No need to bite my head off, you big hairball. I came to warn you. There’s trouble ahead.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The Dark Wizard, who else? I swear, that man’s issues have issues. He’s positively determined to keep you from reaching Gambollia.” Mimsie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Strictly speaking, I’m not supposed to interfere, but I thought you should know.”
The ghost disappeared.
“Where’d she go?” Gertie whirled around. “Bring her back, Raine.”
“Me? I don’t know how.”
“Um . . . Gertie?”
“Not now, Mauric. I’m busy.”
“But, mor—”
“For Kron’s sake, Mauric, what is it?” Gertie snapped.
Mauric pointed. “Mud goggin.”
“Mud goggin? What’s a—” Raine got to her feet and the question shriveled on her tongue.
A funnel of brown water some eighty feet high was bearing down on the boat. The crew shouted and scrambled for cover. Chaz, where was Chaz? Frantic, Raine looked around for the boy.
“Chaz,” she shouted. “Chaz.”
“I got ’im,” Braxx yelled over the noise. He and Chaz waved at her from the tiller. “Hang on, lad,” he said, placing the boy’s hands on the rudder. “We’re in for it now.”
The funnel swept past and an enormous wave washed over their port side, rending cables, and engulfing the water horses. Raine was knocked off her feet and skittered across the muddy deck. She grabbed Braxx’s ankle as she slid past and held on for dear life. The boat lurched clumsily to one side, and slowly righted itself.
Pushing her sodden hair out of her face, Raine climbed to her feet. She was soaked to the skin, and the barge was covered in sludge and hundreds of stranded, wriggling fish. A bright green snake slithered across her boot. Raine shrieked and did a little dance, slinging the startled reptile into the river.
Mauric laughed. Somehow, he’d avoided being washed into the river, but he was covered in muck. Twigs and leaves clung to his pale hair and stuck to his arms and torso.
“What?” Raine said. “I don’t like snakes.”
Mauric grinned. “I never would have guessed.”
“Hey, Rainey, guess what?” Chaz’s face shone with excitement. “Cap’n says we got ourselves one garffin big mud goggin.”
Braxx cleared his throat. “Language, boy. Not in front of the lady.”
“Have a care,” Gertie shouted. “It’s winding up to have another go.”
The troll stood with her powerful legs braced against the roll of the river. She was wet and bedraggled, and covered in bits of river trash. She seeme
d smaller and more vulnerable with her fur plastered to her body, like a big, hairy dog after a bath.
Her gaze was on something downriver. The cyclone had ground to a halt, spinning on the surface of the water like a demented top. Slowly, the whirlwind solidified and sprouted huge jaws and a pair of wings.
“A dragon.” Gertie shook her head. “I might have known. He’s always had a thing for them.”
Raine picked her way across the slimy deck. “Who has?”
“Glonoff,” Gertie said. “Surely you didn’t think this was an ordinary mud goggin?”
“Didn’t think about it, period. This is my first.”
The troll grunted, her gaze on the mud dragon. The monster ballooned grossly, collapsed and reformed. “He’s made it too big, the show off,” she said. “He can’t control it.”
With a bellow of frustration, the goggin regained its dragon shape. The water horses screeched in panic and pulled sharply for shore. The barge listed, more cables snapped, and the heavy boxes of cargo on the starboard deck toppled into the river.
With a muffled curse and a loud thump, Mauric sailed past. He grabbed a line near the hull as he went over the side. Raine lost her footing—again—and tumbled toward the edge. She grabbed a bollard and held on.
Gertie stomped over and yanked her to her feet. “Mauric, stop fooling around, and do something with those cattle before they sink us.”
“Yes, mor.”
He released the cable and dropped into the icy water. Swimming to the nearest water horse, a big mare, he reached for the tangled harness. The frightened creature rolled its eyes and thrashed about.
“Easy, now, easy,” he murmured.
The mare quieted at once, and Mauric loosened the straps and unhitched the restive animal. Shaking its seaweed mane, the mare shot through the water and out of sight. Moving from horse to horse, Mauric repeated the process. The water horses darted away, disappearing downriver, and the barge leveled.
“Just in time,” Gertie said. “Here he comes again.”
The mud dragon roared toward them, bringing tons of mud, water, fish, and debris with it.
A Meddle of Wizards Page 23