Liavek 2

by Will Shetterly

  Elmutt decided to keep to himself that his offer of fifty coppers was for the entire performance. He had carefully counted his coins that morning. He had three hundred and two coppers, which included the nine that he had stolen from Ghaster.

  Hidat leaned forward and gestured with his hand. "I can see no less than five hundred coppers apiece. Any less than that and I would lose my clients." Hidat studied Elmutt for a moment. "How much do you have? The truth, now."

  "Three hundred and two." The words shamed him.

  "You are wasting your time. Elmutt. But the worse, you waste my time." Again Hidat studied Elmutt. "What is this about? Speak."

  "This evening I will attempt investiture."

  Hidat's eyebrows climbed. "So?" He frowned. "What ritual do you plan to use?"

  "From the White priests. I will use the White ritual."

  Hidat smiled. "Then let me put your mind to rest, Elmutt. The Whites are a solemn lot. Their investiture ritual needs no performers. Even if you needed performers, my clients do not play rituals. I represent only entertainers."

  Elmutt sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "I suppose there is little point in continuing." He lowered his hand. "But I need entertainers. I must have all of my concentration at my disposal during the ritual. All of it. And, I..." Elmutt shook his head. It is not a problem, he reminded himself, that can be understood without experience.

  Hidat placed the tips of his fingers together. "And you, my poor Elmutt, are heavy with troll. You need entertainment to distract the creature while you make your attempt. Speak I the truth?"

  "Yes. How..."

  The man nodded around the room. "Where is it now?"

  "It is a he. Tavi by name." Elmutt blushed. "As soon as we entered, Tavi jumped off my shoulder and ran through that door. I think he is trying for a peek at one of your dancers."

  Hidat laughed until his eyes watered. "Ah, yes, Elmutt." He nodded and held out his hand as high-pitched screaming audible to both of them came from the back room. The screaming prompted another burst of laughter. "Here, give me your money. I have a dancer and a musician for you for three hundred and two coppers."

  "I do not understand."

  "I once had a troll, and the screaming you now hear is for a punishment administered upon your creature's posterior by Zayieri, my wife." Hidat grinned. "She is a Bhandaf. Are you familiar with the Bhandafs?"

  Elmutt shook his head.

  "An ancient tribe from far beyond the Silverspine. In the mountains they learn different ways of seeing. Trolls cannot make themselves invisible to a Bhandaf. Nor can the creatures escape from a Bhandaf. That is why I wed my Zayieri, to put my own troll out of the house. Take my advice, Elmutt. If you have a troll, marry a Bhandaf."

  There were soft footsteps, and Elmutt saw Tavi coming into the room, his mouth down at the corners, his lumpy face black with anger, his hands gently holding his rear end. Behind him, wrapped in a dressing towel, was the tallest, most voluptuous woman that Elmutt had ever seen. Her hair was jet black and she had the eyes of a cat, deep and green.

  She smiled and held her hand out toward Tavi. "This must be yours, strange sir. I caught the little beast while I was bathing."

  Hidat rose and bowed toward his wife. "My love, this is Elmutt of Dung Alley. He comes seeking entertainment for his troll during the time of his attempt to invest his luck this evening." He faced Elmutt and held his hand out toward his wife. "I present Zayieri."

  Elmutt stood and nodded, speechless. When he did find his tongue, he still had a question. "About the price, Hidat. For only three hundred and two coppers—"

  "For that kingly sum, Elmutt, you shall have the most seductive dancer in all Liavek, my own Zayieri. And for a musician," he placed his hands against his breast and fluttered his eyelids, "well, modesty forbids."

  "But—"

  Zayieri walked to Elmutt's side and smiled down at him. Her eyes with their lens-shaped pupils were hypnotic. "If you are successful at investing your luck, you will remember us with kindness. The world can always use another magician who owes us a favor."

  "And if I am not? If I die?"

  Hidat stood next to him and clasped a strong brotherly hand upon Elmutt's shoulder. "We risk only a favor. You risk your life." His eyebrows went up as his face assumed a sly look. "But in case you lose your life and we lose the favor, we will keep your troll."

  Elmutt laughed as Tavi hid behind his leg. "By the deep green waters, Hidat, you can have the creature now, and good riddance."

  Zayieri shook her head, "It cannot be done. You must die before one can assume full power over your creature." Again she smiled. "Let Bhanda shine his face upon you in your quest. We would rather have the favor than the troll."

  •

  Tavi, still nursing his abused dignity, was mercifully silent during the entire walk through the rain back to the Skull. As Elmutt descended the cellar steps, Tavi hopped off his shoulder, climbed to the top of its mountain of salvaged bricks, and sulked.

  Dim light from the alley filled the basement, and Elmutt noticed two small boys rummaging through Ghaster's wooden box of "valuables." Ghaster was still motionless on his cushions. Elmutt looked away from his master, anger contorting both his features and his words. "You boys!" The pair spied Elmutt and froze. "You boys, I am going to kill you!"

  They split, going in opposite directions, Elmutt hard after the one who fled to his right, behind Elmutt's pallet. The boy's neck almost within his grasp, Elmutt's crippled leg collapsed, sending him headlong into a pile of bottles. By the time he had extricated himself from the broken glass, the boys were gone.

  The picker painfully limped to Ghaster's side. "You irresponsible pig! Do I cull the filth of this city so that you might give it away to any thief who wanders in here?" Although it cost him dearly, Elmutt reared up upon his crippled leg and delivered a swift kick to Ghaster's thigh. Again his leg collapsed, sending him to the earthen floor.

  "You pig! You miserable, stinking, filthy, louse-ridden, drunken, worthless—" From his place on the floor, Elmutt saw that Ghaster still did not move. On his knees, he crawled to the old man's side.

  "Ghaster?"

  He reached out a hand and shook the old man's shoulder. Then he touched the icy coldness of Ghaster's hand. Elmutt released the hand and sat back on his ankles.

  With only the sounds of the storm for company, he stared at his master for a long time, saying to him at last, "You are dead."

  Tavi appeared behind Ghaster, sitting upon a cushion. The creature studied the old man. "There are no wounds. The Dragonpiss got him, it did." Tavi turned to look at Elmutt, the creature's face assuming a frown. "You have wished him dead a thousand times, Elmutt. Why do you cry, why?"

  The young picker raised a hand and touched the tears on his cheek. "I am crying." He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand and sat surprised as they were replaced with fresh ones. "I don't know why." The beatings, the humiliations, the scathing words. Life with Ghaster had been an endless trial, and now the trial was over. Why was he crying?

  Elmutt looked at the troll. "It should have been more. Ghaster and I. What we had should have been more. Now it can never be made right."

  Tavi vanished and reappeared standing on Ghaster's belly, his head cocked in mock despair. "Poor Elmutt. You have spent all of your coppers upon the dancer and have nothing left to pay for your master's planting. Poor Ghaster. It is the city oven for him." The troll smacked his lips. "As fat as he is, Ghaster will baste himself, he will."

  Elmutt pushed himself to his feet and dragged himself to his pallet where he began readying his things for the ritual. Tavi reappeared sitting atop the wicker basket. "I will stop your investiture, Elmutt."

  "You cannot."

  "I must. I won't be claimed by a Bhandaf, which is what happens to me if you die. And if I don't stop you, you will die."

  Elmutt leveled his gaze upon the creature. "I may die, Tavi. But nothing will prevent me from trying; not you, not Ghaster's death, not the weather,
not the Levar, not all of the wizards in Liavek, not all of the assembled ghosts of darkness, nor the host of demons from hell. Nothing can stop me!"

  As a clap of thunder shook the dank cellar, Tavi scampered to the top of his mountain of bricks, frightened. He looked down at Elmutt beginning to polish Yolik's great copper staff. The young picker didn't pay the thunder any attention. He didn't even seem to hear it.

  •

  Just off the Street of Trees, high atop the grassy peak of Mystery Hill, lie the ruins of an ancient temple constructed by some long forgotten race. This ancient people built with great rough slabs of stone, the smallest of which weighed many tons. Legend had it that the builders of the temple were magic giants.

  In the dark and rain, shaking at the cold and the roll of the thunder, Elmutt stood clad in his mail cap and brass belt, holding Yolik's copper staff. He could see lights in the distance marking the top of Temple Hill. Between the two hills was the Two-Copper Bazaar, at this hour nearly deserted. Looking toward the east, he could see the bright lights of Rat's Alley reflected from the remains of the old city wall. Backlighted by Rat's Alley's glow was the silhouette of Narkaan's Skull rising from the malevolent shadows of Dung Alley, the building's spires making it look like some sort of horned monstrosity reaching up from hell. Lightning illuminated the city for an instant, plunging it into darkness the next.

  "When you start your chant, I will confuse you, I will." Tavi's voice was serious.

  Elmutt turned in the direction of the Street of Trees. Two figures clad in oilskins were climbing toward them through the darkness. "That will be Hidat and Zayieri."

  Tavi jumped up and down on Elmutt's shoulder and yanked his collar. "Do you think your hired dancer will stop me from stopping you, Elmutt? Do you?"

  Elmutt looked into the troll's face. "Listen, you corrupt little wart. Come power or death, this is the night I try. Unless you want to cry out the remainder of your existence under the power of a Bhandaf, you had better pray for my success."

  Tavi clasped his hands together and knelt upon Elmutt's shoulder. "Please! Please, Elmutt. I know I haven't been as good to you as I should, and I can mend my ways, and I will! I will be good to you and mind my mouth. No more tricks, may I be gored by Narkaan's horns if I lie! I promise! Please don't try! Please! Ple—"

  "Silence, troll." The voice was Zayieri's.

  Elmutt turned and faced the pair. "There is a place against the west wall of the ruin where there is an alcove. You can keep dry there."

  Hidat nodded. The musician's robe bulged with the things he carried beneath it. "Good." He gestured with his head at the night sky. "This is a good night to invest your luck, Elmutt. There are many spirits in the air."

  Tavi began to protest, but as he saw Zayieri's left eyebrow go up, the troll clamped his lips together. Zayieri smiled, nodded her approval and looked toward the west wall of the ruin. "Where is the alcove you spoke of, Elmutt?"

  "Follow me." Elmutt walked across the darkness of the weedy court, Hidat and Zayieri close behind. As he reached the alcove, he faced Tavi. The creature's eyes were bugged to the point where one might reasonably fear an explosion. Tavi closed his eyes and again knelt, his hands clasped together, his lips silently forming the word "Please."

  Elmutt watched as Hidat placed his belongings on the floor of the alcove and lit the wick of a lamp, warming the interior with a yellow glow. As Zayieri removed her oilskin cape and hood, revealing her flowing costume, Hidat sat on the floor behind the lamp and placed a combination drum and timberbell instrument between his knees.

  "You are too fat!" Tavi screamed at the dancer. She simply smiled as Tavi continued. "You cannot tempt me, Bhandaf! You are fat and ugly! I will not watch! No I won't!"

  Hidat's skilled fingers began tapping out a seductive rhythm. Elmutt watched as Tavi clamped his hands over his ears to keep out the sound of the drum. Just when it looked as though the troll would resist the efforts to distract it, he opened his right eye slightly to take a peek at the dancer. In seconds it was as though Tavi had been hypnotized. The troll swayed on Elmutt's shoulder, his arms limp, his eyes unblinking.

  Elmutt turned to nod his thanks to Zayieri. In less than a second it was as though Elmutt, too, had been hypnotized. The dancer had removed her gown and was dancing in her imagination. Elmutt knew that there was something that he should be doing, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was. His vision, his mind, was filled with the image of the dancer as she performed moves that made snakes look awkward.

  "Ritual," gasped Elmutt, forcing himself to look away. "The ritual." He tried to concentrate, thinking that it would be just his luck to have Zayieri's performance break his concentration instead of Tavi's. Leaning the copper staff against his shoulder, he held his palms to his ears, blocking out most of Hidat's drumming. To drive the image of Zayieri out of his mind, he stared at the spires of Narkaan's Skull and thought of Almantia. Then he thought of Ghaster and Dung Alley. He thought of the life his luck had driven him through. Pain. Despair. Emptiness.

  As his mind cleared, he felt a tremble in his spine and a chill sweeping over his body. This must be the beginning, he thought. The beginning of the labor that birthed me. Until that labor ends, I can change my luck.

  There was a strange, exhilarating aroma upon the night air. He gripped the copper staff, moistened his lips, and began to speak the words he had learned from the White priests.

  "Nathaan-ra ee, Eeatra. Nathaan-ra ee, Doe. Leave me, my fate, my chance, my future. Withdraw from my being and rest in this." He held up the copper staff to the night sky. "By the laws of Sarrow, by the pain of Rujo, by the lust of Yane, by the anger of Narkaan! Rest here! Rest here! Rest here! Nathaan-ra ee, Eeatra! Nathaan-ra ee, Doe!"

  He frowned as the cold rain trickled down his arm into his sleeve. Nibbling at his lower lip, he wondered if the Fourteenth of Flowers was in truth his birthdate. He muttered beneath his breath, "Not only will I look the fool, but what shall I tell Hidat and Zayieri?"

  If he remained alive, they could not claim the troll. But he would have no powers with which to grant their favor. Did that mean Hidat would press for full payment for the performance?

  "It would be just my luck to walk away from this with nothing more than the price of a bill I can never pay."

  Tavi. Tavi would wallow in Elmutt's failure, Elmutt's foolishness. He could almost hear the troll's wicked laughter. He looked to his shoulder, but the creature was gone. Turning further around, he saw Tavi before the alcove swaying to the beat of Hidat's drum. He closed his eyes and turned his face back toward Dung Alley and the Skull.

  "By Narkaan's beard, no!" he swore. "This is the night! Now is the time!"

  He straightened the arm holding the staff, pushing it higher into the sky.

  "Nathaan-ra ee, Eeatra. Nathaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—"

  In the same instant, Elmutt realized that lightning had reached down and touched Yolik's copper staff, and that he was dead. The roof of hell opened beneath his feet as blackness covered the universe.

  •

  Without sound, without color, strange faces passed before him. The faces had no bodies, no expression, but were alive. They passed as though he did not exist. He opened his mouth to call them, to scream, but silence was his voice.

  A face he recognized, Ghaster, passed by him, followed by the image of Soldire, the White priest whose abuse Elmutt had withstood for the years it had taken him to piece together the White ritual of investiture. Tavi's face followed. Hidat's, Zayieri's, Almantia's, Cankera's and all the faces of Dung Alley.

  There was a cellar deeper and darker than Ghaster's. It was piled with an infinite number of trash mountains. Ghaster sat there cleaning a bottle. His master looked at him and smiled. "Welcome home, Elmutt." Ghaster held out a dirty hand toward a straw pallet. "I have saved you a place."

  Elmutt screamed, "No, nooooo! No—"

  •

  "No!"

  There was a hissing in his ears. He felt the rain upo
n his face, the hard ground against his back. The rain was cold; the ground very warm. He opened his eyes. The gleaming wet stones of the Giant's Temple stared down at him. "I am alive."

  Elmutt gingerly flexed a muscle or two and pushed himself to a sitting position. He trembled as he gave a dazed look around the court. Hidat's lamp still burned in the alcove, but the drummer, the dancer, and the troll were nowhere to be seen. The ground around him was misty with steam. He turned to his right and saw the source of the steam. There was a glowing gold puddle of molten copper. Yolik's staff, or more correctly, the remains of the wizard's vessel. As the rain touched it, it sizzled and cooled, rapidly changing to red, then black.

  He looked at the hand that had been holding the staff. It twitched, but was not burned or scarred. "I am alive!" He swayed to his feet, exultation filling his heart. "It worked! I am alive! I have invested my luck!"

  He paused in midcavort. "Where...where is my luck?" The copper staff could not be the vessel. It had been destroyed. He placed his hands upon his head to feel for Soldire's mail cap, but it was gone. When he again looked at his hands in the glow from the alcove, he saw that they were covered with rust. He reached for Miena's brass belt, but it too was gone. Looking down, he could see the glint of the belt's pieces next to his feet.

  "Elmutt?"

  He looked around to find the source of the voice. "Yes? Who is there?"

  A face peeked out from behind one of the temple's vertical stone slabs. It was Zayieri. "Elmutt, you are alive."

  "Evidently." He began patting his pockets, wondering where he had invested his luck. The dancer rushed to the alcove, donned her oilskins, and approached the garbage picker.

  "You were struck by a great bolt of lightning. I was certain you must be dead." She turned and called into the darkness. "Hidat! Come out, my husband! Elmutt lives!" She turned back to Elmutt. "What are your powers? They must be magnificent! What can you do?"

  Elmutt shook his head as Hidat emerged from behind another stone slab. "I don't know. I can't even be certain what finally became my vessel. The staff is nothing but a lump, my cap has turned to powder, and you can see what remains of the brass belt." He kicked at the pieces with his toe.