“What?” Lorel snatched at the reins, caught one and tugged at it. She cupped her other hand over her nose. Icy rain poured down her face, half drowning her.
The legless lizard released the straps, reared, and slithered up to the wagon’s curved roof. “This one objects to cold water.”
That made two of them. Not a thing she could do about it right now.
She grabbed both reins and tugged the roans back onto the cobblestones. Not where they wanted to go. The nags seemed confused. “Why would there be more water on the road than up there?”
“This conduit is not a road!” The stupid snake leaned down and thumped the top of her head with its chin. “This conduit is the streambed! Water will flood the stream channel.”
Weaver drowned in tears, a not-so-stupid snake.
The horses danced in place, like they couldn’t decide where to go. Both of them completely ignored the reins. Her own fault, seeing as she’d quarreled with the toad so long.
Time to take control of the situation. She jumped down from the driver’s bench.
Icy water rushed over her ankles.
“Coward crap.” She’d planned to sprint to the horses’ heads, but the best she could manage against the current was a slow slog.
Grabbing their bridles, she hauled the team toward the rocky bank.
Water pummeled her knees. How fast could rain build up, anyway? She gotta get the nags outta here.
Kyri shouted, “Accelerate to the perimeter of the channel before the laminar motion overwhelms the conveyance.”
That made no sense at all, so she ignored the longwinded worm.
The wagon creaked and shrieked like it was breaking apart. Wet starfish wiggled like they was still alive. Yuck.
They better not be alive. She went to too much trouble to kill them. Besides, they were almost out of vinegar. Would anything else kill a thousand magicked starfish?
Nothing she could do about them right now. She turned her back on the miswoven wagon, leaned into the torrent, and plodded uphill.
The water level fell below her knees, then to her ankles. Sing to the Weaver, she was headed in the right direction. She couldn’t see well enough to be sure.
White light flashed around her, thunder boomed, rocking her body. The horses reared, tried to run.
She jerked their heads down. “Shuttle on the Loom, nags! Let’s get someplace safer.”
Lumbering like a beat-up soldier wearing a pack full of soggy sand, she towed the cranky nags up the slope. She tried to avoid trees she could barely see through the rain hammering on her. Only one little oak tripped her up, and she bounced off it before the horses got tangled up with it.
Ears plastered flat, the roans trudged after her.
Finally they reached the top of the hill. Weaver’s cold toes, she’d led them under a grove of fir trees. The skinny needles didn’t stop much rain, but their trunks barred her way better than a city wall.
She turned back to the blue blur that had to be the miswoven wagon. “Hey, toad? Have we gone far enough?” Most likely it went inside ages ago. When she got her breath back, she’d go pound on a window.
Something long and skinny slid from the roof to the driver’s bench. How weird the toad’d stayed out in the rain for so long. “The conveyance sojourns above the floodplain.” It slithered inside the wagon.
Periwinkle snuffled against Lorel’s neck. She rubbed the gelding’s nose. “You think that meant ‘yes’? I’m hoping so, ’cuz we ain’t going nowhere until I can see better.”
Thunder rumbled, but no lightning cut across the clouds. Maybe the thread-snipping rain would quit soon.
Poppy nudged her shoulder.
“Rest easy, old girl. I’ll stay right here until the storm stops.” She glanced at the wagon door, nearly invisible through the downpour. “I sure ain’t going in there with a cranky legless lizard.”
After all, she couldn’t get no wetter. If she snuggled between the roans she’d stay warm enough.
When the rain finally eased up, she was glad she’d gone clear to the tree line. A fraying big river rumbled just beyond the wagon’s rear wheels.
Convincing the jittery nags to back the wagon through the mud took a while. Talking them into walking around the firs took even longer. She wound up leading them along the edge of the forest for a couple of miles.
The meadow they stumbled into wasn’t the one Tsai had described to her. At least, it was the first of three Tsai’d mentioned, and not the one they were supposed to camp in.
But the team was as tired as she was. And as soggy. She led them to a decent camp site, unhitched the wagon, and unharnessed the horses. By the time she’d wiped them and their gear more-or-less dry, she’d warmed up enough it wasn’t worth the trouble of changing into dry clothes. It would probably rain again soon, anyway.
The roans looked happy enough, chewing on wet grass. She might as well get a fire started and cook some lunch.
Kyri slithered under the door and headed toward the forest, but it paused and threw her a dirty look. “The infant guardian hungers.” It took off wiggling again, twice as fast as before.
What, did it think she’d cut off its tail and feed that to Baby Bear? But her baby had to wait until she could find some food. Her hand was almost healed up, and a little blood wouldn’t fill up her baby anyway.
She grabbed her trapping gear out of the trunk, trotted to the edge of the forest, and set up three snares. There oughta be lots of bunnies around here. She’d catch one sooner or later.
The minute she finished digging the fire pit and lining it with rocks, Tsai rode in. How was it she usually managed to miss all the messy chores?
Water still dripped from the ends of the girl’s long black hair. “I was afraid you’d need to stop early. At least you weren’t caught by the flashflood. It got nasty down in the next valley.”
Why couldn’t her hair act so good? Her curls had escaped from her braid hours ago, and now they bunched around her face like black snakes.
“We nearly drowned just from the rain. Didn’t need no river.” Lorel pressed the last rock into place and stood up straight.
Her lower back ached. She hoped it wasn’t that time. She’d lost track. “You catch anything to eat?”
Tsai shook her head. “Too busy watching for serdil. I’ve gotten obsessed with worrying about them.” She unsaddled Sumach and put her gear into the bottom trunk.
“Can’t blame you. Sumach’s too little to outrun them.” Tricky for one person to fight a pack off, too. She never did figure out how the kid killed five of the critters. Maybe more? Hard to tell, from the mess he’d made of the hides.
She glanced at the handful of perfect pelts drying on the side of the wagon. The kid couldn’t skin a serdil worth beans, back then, but he’d surely given it a good try.
What would he think about Baby Bear? Likely he’d laugh himself silly when he hears she’s adopted a serdil puppy.
She sighed and turned back to Tsai. “The toad says Baby’s hungry. I set some snares. They better catch something.” She jumped up to the driver’s platform. “I’m gonna grab the fire pot before I check them.”
Tsai followed her inside the wagon. “You haven’t caught a rabbit yet. I’ll get the fishing line.” She stuck her head inside a cabinet and pulled out her stash of fishing stuff.
“Broooo.” Baby Bear struggled to sit up in her nest of pelts. “Broooo.”
“Broo to you, too, sweetie.” Lorel stepped toward the puppy and thumped her head on the miswoven wagon’s ceiling. She paused to rub her throbbing noggin. “Weaver’s chamberpot. I’ll be so glad when it’s warm enough we can sleep outside.”
Tsai beat her to Baby’s side and leaned down to pet the puppy. “No chance now, with the serdil hunting us.”
“True.” Shuttle break their threads. Maybe the kid could magic them off like he did bugs. She didn’t need no more pelts, seeing as she had more than she could store these days, so she might as well ask him to try.
“Mau?” Baby cooed.
Lorel scooped the puppy out of her nest and nuzzled her soft black fur.
Baby licked her face with all the eagerness of a toddler snacking on spun-sugar candy. “Mau?”
“Yeah, I’m hungry, too.” She tucked Baby inside her shirt and waited for the puppy to settle next to her tummy, trapped against her belt and the fabric. “And I’m working on it. Honest.” Those Loom-breaking snares better catch a bunny today.
She knelt and opened the stove door. Had to give the toad credit, it was a better place to keep the fire pot than the driver’s seat. Especially in the rain.
Except the fraying fire pot was stone cold.
“Blood in the Weave. I forgot to feed the miswoven thing.” No hot water for tea. No hot supper.
“Bog it,” Tsai muttered. “Cold cattails for dinner.”
Not if she could help it. “I’ll grab the kid’s old knife and get the fire going that way. Go collect some tinder.” She yanked the pot out of the stove and tucked it under one arm.
“You think we’ll find anything dry after that downpour?” Tsai shrugged and headed for the door. “I’ll look.”
Lorel hauled the jaggedy steel knife out of its drawer, followed her friend outside, and dropped the sheathed knife and the thread-snipping fire pot beside the cold pit. She jogged to the edge of the forest, looking for firewood.
Baby Bear’s tiny fingers dug into her belly. “Mau?”
“Yikes!” Those little fingers had sharp little claws. She stopped and turned Baby over. Who cared if she put holes in her shirt? Her skin cared a lot about holes, no matter how tiny they were.
Baby wiggled her head out of the slot between the buttons, turned her face up to Lorel’s, and rolled a laughing eye at her.
Lorel patted Baby’s butt. “I’m glad you’re having fun. But right now I gotta work.”
She looked for tinder while she collected deadwood, but Tsai was right, there wasn’t much dry stuff. There wasn’t nothing in her snares, neither. What was she gonna feed Baby?
Tsai met her back at the fire pit. “Baybid’ba’ir looks pretty silly, hanging out of your shirt like that.” She dumped her load of firewood beside their camp. “Everything’s wet. You figured out a way to start a fire without dry tinder?”
That was a stupid question. Lorel didn’t bother to answer.
“Did you ever ask Kyri if it knows a better way to start a fire?”
“I ain’t that desperate yet.” Lorel dumped her own armload on the ground, patted Baby’s butt again, and turned to scan the forest. “How about you ask it?”
“Not me.” Tsai held up her hands and backed away, nearly tripping over Izzy. “I’ll go collect some greens. We can eat those raw.”
“Baby can’t eat no green crap!”
“I’ll try to catch a fish, too.” Tsai wiggled her fingers at Baby’s cheerful face. “Baybid’ba’ir can eat fish raw. Serdil eat everything raw.”
That was probably true, but she didn’t have to like it. “You’re gonna turn her into a barbarian.”
“Not possible. She’s an animal.” Tsai grabbed a leather bag out of the middle trunk and hiked across the meadow. “There’s a creek over the next hill. Why didn’t you camp there?”
“We’d already had enough water for one day. Go away. I gotta hunt me up a bunny. And some dry tinder.”
Tsai laughed and walked into the forest.
Lorel chose the driest-looking sticks from their pile of firewood and arranged them in the pinecone shape the kid favored. Now all she needed was a spark. And something dry enough to catch on fire.
What was she gonna use as tinder? Maybe one of the kid’s books? Or just one page from a miswoven book, if she was careful.
The kid would notice if she burned up his writing, though. There gotta be a blank page in there somewhere. But he’d still fray all over her when he found out. And Kyri would squeal on her.
The toad wasn’t here to see, so it couldn’t rat on her. If she hurried she’d find what she needed quick. Some of them old books had loads of empty pages at the back.
Holding Baby Bear tight, she jumped up to the driver’s platform.
A huge boom knocked her against the wagon’s door. Thunder echoed from the mountains around her. Hot air roared across the meadow.
“Meeeoo!” Baby’s piercing scream like to broke her eardrums.
The roans galloped past the wagon, herding Sumach between them. All three dashed into the forest.
Rocks thudded to the ground. Steam hissed and rose from the grass. Fire leapt up from the pile of deadwood.
“Meeeoo!” Baby squirmed and wiggled against Lorel’s belly.
“I heard you the first time.” She held Baby tight, hoping to shelter her from any falling rock. Blood-woven volcano. It had no business scaring her baby.
After a couple of minutes, she was sure the worst was over. No more hot rock, no melted rock at all.
Baby Bear calmed down and stopped trying to dig her way inside Lorel’s belly. Good thing them little claws were still short. She expected she was scratched up, but she didn’t feel no blood.
Now she needed to hurry and grab that blank paper before the toad got back.
Smoke drifted into her face. She slapped her forehead. Who needs paper when the volcano set a fire for her?
Blood in the Weave. What if a rock landed on the wagon’s roof? The whole thing would burn up.
She’d be free of the miswoven wheelbarrow. She wouldn’t need to wait for it no more. All she needed to do was go fuss with her fire, and ‘forget’ to check the roof.
But the kid would lose all his books. And his money was all tied up in Crayl steel and gemstones. And the toad would have to wiggle the rest of the way. Or talk the roans into letting it ride one. She wouldn’t put that past the legless lizard.
Baby Bear would lose a safe home.
Bitter blood. She better check the roof.
She ducked into the wagon and tucked Baby into her nest of quilts. No damage in here, sing to the Weaver.
She squeezed back under the door, stood on the driver’s seat, and, careful to avoid the starfishes’ yellow spines, pulled herself up onto the curved roof.
A glowing rock the size of the kid’s fist sat cradled in a pile of starfish near the back of the wagon. Two starfish right under blood-woven rock were gray and cracked.
The rest of the fraying starfish wiggled their arms weakly. Like they was begging for help.
That was too weird. But magicked things did lots of strange stuff.
Somehow she had to get clear to the far side of the miswoven roof. “I ain’t about to crawl over you guys. I got enough splinters in me the last time I climbed up there.”
Every blue starfish on the roof curled up into a ball, like flowers closing up their petals for the night. All of their spines vanished inside the balls.
That was beyond weird. But she better do something quick. The dead-looking gray stars were starting to smoke and smolder.
Trying not to step on any of the starfish buds, Lorel tiptoed across the roof until she could stare straight down at the overheated rock.
Why hadn’t she grabbed the shovel before she came up here? Now she had the choice of broiling her battered boot or singeing her sword sheath.
She needed that boot. Her spare pair had died ages ago. Not to mention cooking her foot would slow her down too much.
But she hated to ruin either of her sword sheaths. Who was she kidding? They’d both been soaked and scraped and worn half through. Still, she couldn’t wander around with her sword in her hand.
So what could she do? Climb down and start over?
Noodle brain. The kid dedicated her swords with fire. A little hot rock wouldn’t hurt them none. If she was quick and careful.
She drew her short sword, eased its tip under the fraying rock, and flicked it up.
The blood-woven rock flew maybe a foot and landed between the starfish, right on the wooden roof.
&n
bsp; Steam hissed. Wood blackened.
Bitter blood! She whacked the rock with the tip of her sword.
The stupid rock landed on a starfish at the edge of the roof.
She smacked it again before the star had time to scorch.
Finally the rock tumbled over the side. She better find it quick before it set a wheel on fire.
First she had to make sure the roof wouldn’t burn. She stepped on the charred wood and ground her sole against it.
The fraying starfish around her foot opened up and spread out their arms. She jerked her foot out of the way.
The stars squirted out little jets of water.
The blackened wood sizzled. A puff of steam floated away.
That was it. She’d had enough weird for one day. She sheathed her sword and jumped off the roof.
The rock she’d knocked down was far enough from the wheel. No fire likely there. She walked all the way around the wagon just to make sure no blood-woven rocks had landed too close. Everything looked good to her.
The fire in the woodpile was still going strong. She grabbed the shovel and chucked the whole thing into the fire pit. Now all she needed was more wood to sit around the edges to dry out. And this time she’d keep more little branches for kindling and twigs to feed the thread-snipping fire pot.
“Meeeoo!”
Weaver drowned in tears. How could she forget Baby Bear?
How could she hear that baby clear out here? Her little girl had one Loom-blessed voice on her.
“Meeeoo!”
“I’m coming, already! I can’t move no faster.” She dropped the shovel, hurtled up to the driver’s platform, and slid under the door.
Baby Bear struggled to sit up, but those little legs were just too unsteady. “Mau?”
“I hear you.” Lorel scooped her baby up and carried her outside. “I don’t understand you yet, but I hear you.”
“Sentakai! Too Tall!” Tsai charged back into the meadow and sprinted up to the wagon. “Are you hurt?”
“We’re all fine. Horses took off though.” Lorel hugged Baby Bear tighter against her chest. “I got a fire going. You find anything to eat?”
Dragon's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 4) Page 22