by Bell, Hilari
“I can sell you a potion for that hangover, baron,” said Riev's grandmother. Firelight glowed on silver hair and deepened the wrinkles on her face. The top of her head barely reached the young drunk's collar bone.
He reached out to push her aside and found a glass bottle pressed into his hand. He looked up from the bottle, snarling, and froze solid. Riev grinned.
Grandma Sabina swore there was no magic in her gaze, but Riev had been caught out in childish pranks by those startling blue eyes. She knew exactly why a drunken aristo, more than twice the old woman's size, had stopped in his tracks.
He blinked and looked again at the square bottle in his hand. That shape held a concoction Riev’s grandmother ordinarily sold only when someone insisted on buying a love potion, or something else that might do harm. Blessed by the mischievous spirits of air, it sent a tingling flash of well-being through the flesh of the person who drank it—and thereafter did nothing at all. Her grandmother had decided that these aristos should pay the full penalty of over-indulgence.
“I don't have a hangover,” the chief lout protested.
“Maybe not yet, but you surely will tomorrow,” said Sabina. “Even my potion, blessed by all the spirits and imbued with the power of my ancient ancestor's magic, can't completely alleviate the effects. But it will help a great deal. At four silver countas it comes cheap, very cheap.”
The moment Grandma Sabina appeared Marnya had stopped dancing. Their quarry's stillness, and the conversation going on beside them, had distracted the other drunks' attention. Now Marnya sank down and rolled under the wagon, and Odelka crawled out and stood up smoothly in her place. Odelka was a kindly woman and a gifted animal trainer. She was also the ugliest woman in Stag Camp.
“I don' want your potion,” said the drunk, struggling against the compelling power of that bright blue gaze. “Meddling, Chandi bitch.”
He shoved Sabina away, hard enough to make her stumble, and Riev felt a flash of pure hate.
Her grandmother only sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, young master. Very well, five countas.”
The drunk frowned. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn't quite think what it was.
One of his companions looked at Odelka, who smiled, exposing crooked brown teeth. He yelped, recoiling so violently he fell on his rump.
Dani's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter and Riev's hands tightened in warning. It was funny, but laughter from the shadows might give the delicate, dangerous game away.
“Get a dozen bottles of fool-juice,” Riev whispered. “We might see profit from them yet.”
Dani hurried away.
“I don't want this,” the drunk insisted, pushing the bottle toward Sabina. He looked over his shoulder for Marnya and Odelka smiled at him. His jaw dropped.
“If you insist.” Sabina took the bottle from his slack grip. “I think you're right. To a strong young man like you, a hangover is nothing. Save your silver. Unless you want me to read your future in the stars?”
That phrase was the signal that Grandma Sabina thought the situation safe enough for others to intervene. Riev suppressed a grin as the camp’s older women and young boys emerged from among the wagons, and began the tricky process of sending stubborn young drunks on their way. Boys like her.
Riev chose the drunk who'd been trying, however ineffectively, to protest his friends’ conduct. All soffers were worthless, as far as she was concerned, but this one seemed harmless. And he was now near enough to her grandmother, that if something went wrong Riev could go to her aid.
But Sabina was managing fine. “I really admire a man who can stand up to pain,” she said.
The big drunk, still staring at Odelka, frowned foolishly. “Pain?”
Riev suppressed a smile and turned to her own mark. “Can I help you to your horse, baron? The hour is late. It's time to be going.”
He was taller than the others, but bony-thin, in the way of boys who’ve grown too fast. Which was just as well, because it looked like Riev might have to support him. His face was thin too, with angular cheekbones, thin lips and a big beaky nose. His fair, short-cropped hair was rumpled; they had all lost their hats. Some might return and claim them before the camp moved on, but if they didn't, the used clothing shops and the Chandi would both be the better for it. Serve them right for getting so drunk, and pestering honest folk!
Riev’s mark was staring at her grandmother now. “I hate pain,” he announced, to no one in particular.
“Then I pity you the hangover you're going to have tomorrow.” Riev pulled him toward the horse lines. “Terrible pain you'll be in. Sick as a dog.”
Served him right, too.
The young man stopped, gazing at her in astonishment. “You know... You know...”
Riev sighed. “If only my grandmother could be persuaded to sell you a bottle of her elixir of health. Works wonders on hangovers. It can't cure them entirely, but the headache, the sickness, are much lessened. Alas, the elixir is a closely held secret of our camp. She almost never sells it to sof— outsiders.”
Dani was already hawking the square bottles among the drunks who'd stayed seated, making several sales. Riev hoped he'd have a few left over.
“You know,” said the young man, “you're right! I'm going to have a horrible hangover. Must have some elixir. Must.”
“But it costs five countas,” said Riev, her eyes widening in well-simulated distress. “Surely even a rich man like you can't afford it.”
Her grandmother usually sold fool-juice for two countas, though it sounded like she was working the lout up to seven. Her real headache cure, which was blessed by the spirits of water and willow and worked very well on hangovers, she sold for a handful of tin commons.
“Not rich.” The young man’s mouth drooped in sudden distress. Riev eyed his silk vest and tailored trousers cynically. “Not rich. But having a hangover won't help.”
“Then I'll get you a bottle of elixir.”
He was too unsteady to stand on his own, so Riev pulled him out of the circle and propped him against the gilded stag and oak leaves that adorned the wagon's porch rail.
“Stay here,” she said, using the firm tone she’d have used to one of Odelka's dogs. Though in Riev's opinion, the dogs were smarter.
She went over to Dani and picked four bottles out of the basket—almost the last of them. With the ease of practice she passed a bottle to each of the women who were dealing with the other drunks, handing it off behind their backs without exchanging so much as a glance. This would enable them to produce the bottles as if they’d been summoned out of the air. The trick was too simple to work on a sober man, but with the inebriated it sometimes raised the price by several barrones. Her mark knew she'd gone to get the elixir, so she couldn't create a mystery for him. On the other hand, a straight sale would let her get rid of him faster.
“Here you are, baron.” Riev held the bottle away from the wagon's shadow so firelight gleamed through it. “Ease for all the body's pains, just five countas.”
“Good.” He opened his purse, dug out the coins, and offered them to Riev.
Usually, for the sighted, visions came when they first touched a person—sometimes when they first set eyes on them. Riev wasn't sighted and she’d already dragged him through half the camp, so the vision that swamped her as the silver poured into her hand took her wholly by surprise.
Her eyes were open but she no longer saw the wagon’s shadowy carving—the young drunk was still there, though, in all pictures that flashed through her mind. He was drunk in the first vision too, watching a roulette wheel spin, the tiny ball clicking as it bounced. The crowd roared and his face fell. He was sober, seated in a shabby office, quiet and pale, dealing with a man with a genial smile and hard eyes. Riev saw neither coin or bills, but she knew money was changing hands. Then she saw the young soffer on horseback, in a narrow lane or alley with trees overhanging the high brick walls. Rain gleamed in the cracks between the cobbles. Riev could feel cool m
oisture in the air, smell the wet brick and leaves, and the scent of his horse. The moneylender was there too. His face, no longer genial, matched his eyes, and he held the horse's reins just above the bit.
“You’re in arrears with your payments, Master Jeppersen.” The horse jerked as the young man pulled on the reins, but the moneylender didn't let go. “In fact, you've made no payments at all. In the spirit of peace I'll give you till the first day of the negotiations to come up with the money you owe. But if I haven't seen cash by the end of that day, you will deeply regret...regret... regret...”
The word echoed in Riev's ears as the dark alley blurred, and the familiar bright paint of the Chandi wagon took its place. The young drunk held her shoulders, supporting her.
“Boy, are you all—”
Riev wrenched herself out of his grasp. She was panting, her heart pounded, her knees shook. Five silver countas lay scattered in the grass, along with his purse.
“You'd better pay your gambling debts, soffer. I think he meant it.”
“Who...? How do you...? Say, I didn't ask to have my fortune told! What business is it of yours, peaking into my future?”
“Sorry, sorry. The visions come when the Lady sends them.” That was what all the seers said, usually to excuse their failure. But Riev wasn't sighted! She'd never shown even a trace of the gift. Besides, the Lady sent visions of the future, hopefully of good things that people would pay to hear—not visions of awkward problems. Worse than awkward, if that loan shark meant what Riev thought. And Riev hadn't seen the future; the Peace Settlement’s negotiations had started two days ago. Why was she seeing the past? Could this young idiot have been drinking to celebrate paying his debts?
Riev considered his fuddled, angry expression. No, he wasn't celebrating.
Well, soffers’ problems were no concern of hers. The Duri take the lot of them.
“It’s late, baron. Let's get you out of here.”
Riev picked up the coins and he retrieved his purse—a toss-up whose hands were more unsteady. Grandma Sabina would make a fair sum tonight. Maybe enough to make the rest of the camp stop grumbling about “worthless strays” for a while.
The soffer was still muttering about privacy when Riev pulled him over to the horse lines. She was reluctant to touch him, but even when he staggered, and would have fallen if she hadn't clutched him, no images came to wash the present away. Where had that sudden vision come from? Was she developing the sight? Most seers were born with it, having visions they couldn't explain from the time they were toddlers. But it sometimes came on later in life. That might be useful.
Neither Riev nor Dani had any skill that brought in money. Before their own camp had dissolved that hadn’t mattered, but when you joined up with a new camp, one you weren’t born to, you were expected to pay your way. Sabina made money with her potions and spirit talking, and Riev and her brother worked hard—but everyone worked. Riev's best talent was for figuring out machines and fixing them, but that only brought in cash when they ran across a motorist with a breakdown. And that didn't happen often enough to provide a steady income, like a good seer could.
But if she was becoming a seer, why hadn't she seen the young fool getting his knees broken in the future? Or whatever would happen, if he didn't come up with the coin.
“None of your business,” the soffer grumbled. “And I'm not paying! Don't care how true you saw.”
“Your loss, baron. Which horse is yours?”
They'd reached the horse line, but Riev didn't see the big bay with white socks he'd been riding in her vision.
“Don't have a horse,” he said. “Came with friends. They've got a motorcar.” His face lit with inebriated enthusiasm. “Brambolt steamer. Beautiful machine. I told them I'd ride home with someone else.”
He looked around, evidently expecting his transportation to materialize.
“Then why didn't you?” Riev demanded. “All the carriages and motorcars are gone. You'd have enough trouble riding, much less riding double. You'll spend the night in a ditch!”
The nights were chilly here, but that wouldn’t kill him. “I'll find out which of your friends is the most sober, and you can ride behind—”
“No, you're right. Well, 'course you're right. Visions, what? I don't want to sleep in a ditch. You take me home.”
“I don't know where your home is,” said Riev. “Besides, Chandi aren't allowed in the city after dark.”
It was a law that made her pride smart. They might pick a few apples without a farmer's permission, or even lift a chicken in passing, but no Chandi would ever rob a man's house. Most wouldn't even take the chicken. Still, almost every city had the same law—no Chandi on the streets after dark. Not that that stopped them.
“I'll show you where my home is,” said the gambler. “Not that drunk. An' there's money in it for you. Another countas.”
This soffer had earned whatever befell him. On the other hand, money was money.
“Make it a dukas. I'd be risking trouble with the law.”
“Five countas.” He tried to wink, but blinked both eyes instead. “Chandi don' care about the law.”
Riev hesitated. What she really wanted to do was see this fool on his way, then talk to her grandmother about her strange vision. But the city outskirts were less than a mile from the camp, and none of the others had even reached the horse lines yet. She could take the soffer home and be back in less than an hour.
“All right,” said Riev. “Seven countas to see you home safe. Wait here.” She propped him against a tree this time, since they’d moved beyond the wagons.
“Where're you going?”
“To get a horse. I'm not going to carry you,” said Riev, walking toward the camp's horse pen. She could stop off at their wagon and change her bright vest for a soffer’s drab coat, and a brimmed cap to shadow her face. Her ragged knee britches could have been worn by any boy, anywhere. Disguise enough.
The Chandi might not care about the law, but that didn't mean the law didn't care about the Chandi.
Author’s note: The Fixer is set in the same universe as the Goblin Trilogy, but it takes place roughly 400 years after the events in Goblin Wood, Goblin Gate, and Goblin War. Barring acts of the publishing gods (a fickle and whimsical bunch of deities, I assure you) it will come out in 2016.