"The copper, Ma'am."
I doubted that even a poor boy would have risked being alone with a child-devouring "sorceress" for a single copper. This boy feared something more than he feared me. "Who sent you?"
"My master, Merchant Kobalg, Ma'am; I'm 'prenticed."
"Why didn't Merchant Kobalg come himself if he had information?"
"He didn't, Ma'am." Pink flushed the boy's face until it nearly matched his ear. "Sent me... Said I should bring back the copper to help make up for the ruin of his day's business."
"And how was the ruin of his business your doing?"
"The fish, Ma'am. Every mornin' I set fish traps in Spring Pool 'an take 'em to my master an' he sells them, 'long with his other wares."
He shifted on the hard chair seat. "When I got to the pool this mornin', the fish weren't swimmin', just floating on top of the water, so I scooped 'em out and took them to the market. First woman who bought one came back shouting at my master."
The floating fish already had my attention. "Why?"
"The fish was all funny inside. She shoved it just about in my master's face. He sliced open the rest of 'em and they were all funny inside too. He had to give her money back. She made a lot of noise. Everyone heard."
"And took their business elsewhere?"
He nodded, head down. "Merchant said I wasn't fit to be 'prenticed as a night-soil hauler. Gave me a whacking with his stick and sent me here."
Something inside tensed up, but I focused on the subject at hand. "Does your master still have those fish?"
"Most likely, Ma'am. Threw one on the ground an' the cat wouldn't touch it."
I pressed a copper into the boy's hand. It was time to pay a visit that should improve Merchant Kobalg's mood considerably.
* * * *
During the short walk from village edge to market square, I learned the boy's name was Simon, that he had been an apprentice for a little more than a year, and that a "whacking" was so common as to be almost expected. As we neared the merchant's stand, Kobalg strode out, appraised the situation, grabbed Simon's arm and yanked him away from my side.
"What have you done now, you miserable guttersnipe? Send you to do something simple as talk to a lady, and you come back in trouble. Got a good mind to shove those fish down your worthless throat, I have!"
The first two fingers of my right hand started to vibrate, a sort of buzz that warns me that anger in trying to tap into magic. I couldn't allow that, no matter how much I would have liked to see Kobalg flying headfirst into the well at the center of the square.
People depended on that water.
"Merchant Kobalg," I said. "I am interested in buying those tainted fish. How many are there?"
"Buying?" The merchant's expression slid from anger to incredulity. It was a metamorphosis that resulted in a rather stupid stare. "Thirteen, not counting the one that woman brought back." He released his hold on Simon. The boy backed out of reach, rubbing his arm.
"I want that one too." I took a silver piece from my purse; a small one, but it was easily twice the price of fourteen good, edible fish. "And I'll pay you another two coppers for the boy's time for the rest of this afternoon."
"Of course, Ma'am, your ladyship, Ma'am." He turned to Simon, who was suddenly, if temporarily, of value. "Well, go on, lad. Wrap the fish for the lady."
* * * *
"Here, Ma'am." Simon climbed down an embankment of rock-studded mud and pushed aside scrub that surrounded his favorite fishing spot. I squished to a stop beside him. The pool was a wide, quiet spot in a stream.
There were three fish floating on the surface, gasping.
"Those fish weren't there this mornin', Ma'am. I took all that there was this mornin' to Merchant Kobalg."
"Were there dead or sick fish in the pool yesterday?"
"Don't know, Ma'am. Didn't come for fish. Market was closed; the Sabbath."
"Yes, of course." I had been so busy and so sleepless that I had lost track of days. So much for my image as an all-knowing sorceress. "Were the fish you found floating this morning all dead, or were some still alive?"
"About half were alive, I think." He held up both hands and consulted his fingers. "Eight, I think. Others weren't breathin', but they looked fresh."
The day that the pool had gone unfished meant that there had been more time for fish to swim in, sicken, and stay in the pool until they died. The fish that had swum in more recently had been exposed to whatever was killing them for a shorter time. A theory to work, at least. "I want you to run back and find a bucket. Fill it with water from upstream of this pool, put these fish in the bucket and bring them to me. I'll have a look around here. Spring Pool—so all the water here doesn't come from the stream?"
"No, Ma'am. Spring comes outa that rocky bank over there. Want me to show you?"
"No, thank you, I think I can find it and it's very important to get those fish into the bucket as soon as possible."
"Think there's somethin' wrong with the water here?"
Good, good; night-soil hauler, eh? "That's a possibility we're going to investigate."
"We, Ma'am?"
"If you'd like to pretend to be apprenticed to a mage for the rest of the afternoon."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
A cat after a squirrel couldn't have gone up that bank faster. My progress around the pool was considerably slower. My robe and skirt soaked water up to my knees, and my boots filled like ladles, but I avoided slipping on the green-slimed rocks.
Behind bank-clinging shrubbery, I found a path; too narrow for an adult human, but more than wide enough for the other inhabitants of the island. A generous spring bubbled from the rock far above my head and splashed down a succession of hollows; the lowest two had been chiseled into basins. A bridge of stout branches connected the less eroded parts of the bank and provided a walkway in front of the spill from the basins as it flowed down to the pond.
I planted my feet and stretched as far as my arms would support, bringing my face close to the basin that was no more than a forearm's length above the bridge.
I forgot my sloshing boots and sodden robe. I did my best to match Simon's speed away and up the bank toward the village.
I didn't match it, of course, but I did try.
* * * *
I was outside the workroom, carefully gutting the last fish from the market when the boy returned. He had chosen a large bucket that pulled him off balance, but he was beaming.
"Here they are, Ma'am." He set the bucket down next to my chair and screwed up his face at the dismantled fish on the table in front of me. "Yug! They do stink somethin' awful."
"They don't smell like rotting fish though, do they?"
"No, Ma'am. They smell like... I don't know what they smell like; like rotten eggs, a little?"
"Very good. Sour gas. It's found where there's sulfur; it's a compound, a mixture. It isn't hard to find springs with that smell naturally on the mainland, but there aren't any on this island." I pushed small piles of crystals and granules, sorted by color. "Most of the rest of these are likely compounds as well. Poisonous compounds."
"They were inside the fish?"
"There was little else, especially in those eight over there." I looked at the living fish crowded in the bucket. They were still gasping, but I thought—hoped—that one was closer to right-side-up than it had been.
"I have two more tasks for you, Simon. I'd like you to bring me the book on the far left side of the desk, then find a bigger tub. Fill the tub, dump the fish in it and every little while pour well water into the tub; let it overflow. We have to try to keep those fish alive until I'm ready for the next step."
* * * *
"Fish, Lady Lammet. Did you serve your husband any fish from Spring Pool or closely downstream from that spot?"
She had come at my request. She looked drawn, exhausted, but still managed a spark of impatience. "I told you more than once. I prepared nothing for Mifrav that I did not eat myself. Nothing. I don't remember where
our fish came from, but I am not sick." She subsided onto a wooden box Simon had produced from somewhere. "Have you found any reason for hope?"
I wasn't sure that a cure could be effected even if I found the cause and could reverse it. At this point, a human past fifty would have been doomed; but Mifrav had been in the full strength of his young adulthood, and elves were famous for their recuperative abilities. I told Lammet as much. It wasn't right to lie to her, but I didn't want her to give up hope completely.
Simon was still ladling water; the fish in the tub were still alive.
She stood and pulled the slump from her shoulders. "Thank you, Mistress Rennik, please let me know if there are any... discoveries."
"Of course, Lady." I went back to my books; I was on my third stack of the afternoon. A sinking sun would soon mark another day of failure. I tried not to let memories of the husband I had lost half-a-lifetime ago drag my reason into despair. We had been students together and even the magic of our teachers hadn't been able to save him.
What if there was nothing I could do? What if the dying fish had nothing to do with Mifrav's waning life? What if I was wasting the precious time remaining?
"Ma'am! The lady! The elf lady, Ma'am!"
Lammet was running back toward us across the meadow with a dogged determination that made her movements look human. Simon and I ran to meet her.
"Hunting!" I steadied her while she caught her breath. "Mifrav went hunting near Spring Pool Tuesday last! With his friend Jinther. The spring..."
"The basins are a good place to dip a cup on a warm day," I said, "but too far to be used as a common source of water?"
"Yes. Do you think..?"
"Is Jinther sick?"
"No. I don't know. He left the morning of Wednesday last. He was visiting relatives on the mainland. He stopped on his way to say goodbye."
"By then, Mifrav was sick?"
"Very, though we didn't know yet it was... serious."
"But Jinther was well enough to travel."
"He was fine. Perhaps I was wrong."
Perhaps friend Jinther's journey was incredibly convenient. "No, Lady, you have given me encouragement that I am following the right trail. You are tired; would you like Simon here to see you safely back to your husband's side?"
"He assists you, does he not?"
"Yes."
"Then I would rather he do that, but I thank you for your concern. Good fortune, Mistress."
She turned and began picking her way through the tall weeds that she had shoved aside in her haste minutes before.
"Do I really assist you?"
The weeds flattened beneath our feet. "You certainly do. You showed me the pool, you're helping keep those fish alive, and how many times have you carried heavy books back and forth?"
His voice dropped as he stretched his stride to match mine. "I can't read them."
"I don't think anyone in the village could. Your priest might make out a little of it; they're written in Latin."
"I can't read at all."
I had noticed the way he handled the books, the way his hands lingered on the old covers when he set them down.
"You could learn."
"Kobalg can't read either, not much, anyway. Said it was too hard for—for me."
He left out the "gutter-snipe"— or worse—that had certainly been part of the statement. "I doubt that, but we'll talk about it when we've finished our work." The sun had sunk far enough that the slanting rays were distorting the crystals' color with golden light. It was time to give up analysis anyway. Every sample I had identified was poisonous; there was no reason to believe the rest were not as well.
Now I had to use what I had learned, and it was work that had to be done alone.
"Help me bring the books in, Simon, then go to the house where Lady Lammet is staying and ask her to send one of the healers here—but not until after the sun has set—ask her if there is a place there where you can sleep for a few hours."
"Merchant Kobalg... I'm not s'posed to be out after dark."
"Too easy to run away then?" I picked up an armful of books. "I didn't read your thoughts, lad. I was apprenticed once, too. To a seamstress."
He lifted the remainder of the volumes and followed me inside. "Did you run away, Ma'am?"
"I'll tell you the story some day. Here." I pulled another copper from my purse. "Run with that message to Lady Lammet, then go home. Give this to Kobalg for staying so late and tell him I will pay him well for your services tomorrow morning. Tell him the fish from Spring Pool won't be safe to sell yet."
"The fish in the tub, Ma'am?"
"I'll need them soon. Let's hope they'll be swimming in the morning."
I thanked him for his work and sent him with his message—and copper. The last thing I needed was an irate merchant on my doorstep, looking for a suspected runaway.
I had fish to save.
* * * *
A small knock on the door announced the arrival of the chief Jiyel healer. He looked haggard, and I'm sure I looked worse. The spell I had just countered was so complex that I had had to resort to calling on power I seldom use. Not dark power, mind you, but manipulating cosmic forces does take its toll. I felt as though I'd been run over by the King's cavalry, and I was going to have to do it again.
On a much larger scale.
Almost immediately.
I didn't bother with formalities. "I want to show you something," I took a lamp outside to the fish tub. All three fish were swimming right-side up. They weren't swimming strongly, but they were swimming. I had slopped a great deal of water on the shop floor, but I hadn't killed even one fish tying to get it right. I was groggily proud of myself for that.
He looked puzzled. "Fish?"
"They were sick," I said. "They were taken from Spring Pool half-dead this morning. Didn't Lady Lammet... Never mind. I think a spell was put on the catch-basins. The water that flowed through them became a toxic agent that's been building up in the pool. There's an excellent chance that Mifrav drank from one of those basins."
"But we couldn't find a poison."
"We were trying to identify one poison. The spell turned everything the fish ate to poisons—broke it down and reassembled the elements—created a constantly changing stew of poisons depending on what the food was. In Mifrav's case, every meal since last Tuesday afternoon..."
The healer's hands tightened over the edge of the tub. "If you're right... We've been insisting that he eat. Until yesterday, we've been..."
"We didn't know. The only person who knew was the one who placed that spell on the spring basins."
"You know who?"
"I have suspicions, but that hasn't been my concern."
"Can you do for Mifrav what you did for these fish?"
"If you, the other healers and Lady Lammet will allow it."
He looked up at me, eyes closer to yellow than green in the lamplight. "Is there a reason it would not be allowed?"
"The magic involved is very powerful. I have to work alone. Would you—all of you—be able to put that much trust in a human mage?"
He looked back at the circling fish. "You think you can reverse the spell. I can offer the lady no promise?"
I was too tired for diplomacy. "No. I have never seen, nor been able to find reference to, a spell such as this, and the counter-spell has been tested only on those fish. Lord Mifrav has been sick for days; even if the negation works perfectly, there may have been too much damage done already."
"He is very ill," the healer said. "A matter of hours. I don't think we have much choice but to trust you."
Apparently the healer had also decided to dispense with diplomacy. "Very well," I said. "If the decision is to proceed, bring him here. This shop has been properly prepared for major conjuration. It would take too long to start anew."
He nodded. "I will take your conditions to Lady Lammet."
Conditions. He probably meant nothing by it, but being spoken to as an adversary did nothing to buoy my s
pirits. I nodded in return and watched him disappear into the darkness.
He needed no lantern, but I would need enough of them inside to make the workshop seem like day. As I trimmed wicks and funneled oil, I wished briefly that Simon had been able to stay. He would have been helpful, but it was more than that; I needed a dose of optimism.
In what seemed like no time at all, a party of elves marched through the door I'd left open. Guards, then litter-bearers, then more guards and healers surrounding Lady Lammet. Most looked suspicious; all looked annoyed as the brilliance of my lamps struck their dark-adjusted eyes.
I showed the litter-bearers the low table, more of a bench from my perspective, on which to lay their burden, then expressed my thanks to Lammet for her trust.
"I have seen the effort you have expended on my husband's behalf. If your magic fails to save him, it is, as Healer Ulfir says, not your fault, but the fault of the assassin who bespelled the spring."
I made a note to never again make hasty judgments about Jiyel healers.
"But if," she continued, "you are successful, I will grant you anything within my power."
I murmured something trite about her husband's recovery being the only reward, etc., and curtsied low enough to see the tears in her eyes.
What I desperately wanted was more time to experiment, but no one could grant me that.
There was bristling among the guards when I told them they must leave their lord, unprotected, with me, but they eventually acquiesced and I bade the whole party stand back as far as the edge of the meadow grass.
My ceremonial cloak caught fractions of light as I swung it around my shoulders. The silver threads were rough against my face as I raised the hood. The network held protective spells and was as close to armor as a worker of magic could achieve. I hoped it would be enough as I lit the cedar stick at the air position, added fuel to the fire cauldron, and began my incantations.
At the time, I must have been fully aware of the spells I was casting, and twisting, and straightening, but I remember little of the ceremony until the point where the door blew off of its hinges and splinters of the doorframe whipped around the room like arrows. I dropped to my knees beside the table and spread my cloak over Mifrav.
Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXV Page 27