by David Drake
The third man in the boat was a Sea Guard with a strung bow and three arrows stuck through his sash. He watched with a morose expression as theDefender sloshed past.
Now that Ilna had recognized the dots in the high heaven as winged men circling, it was she who noticed when their motion shifted. "Something's changed!" she said. "The Rua are diving, or…"
The Rua dipped, then rose instead of plunging down on the fishing fleet. They'd modified their ceaseless circling, but that didn't mean they were attacking.
"They're dropping something!" Chalcus cried. "They've each one let something go as they dived!"
Rincip shouted angry orders; the flutist blowing time for the rowers in the stern swung into a faster tempo. Both helmsmen leaned into their tillers; with only one bank of oars manned, theDefender didn't accelerate quickly enough to heel the outside-starboard-steering oar out of the water even in a sharp turn.
"They drop chunks of volcanic glass," Lusius explained grimly. "Big chunks, some as long as your forearm, and the edges sharper'n knifeblades. From that height, they can stave in the decking when they hit."
"But can they hit?" Ilna said, frowning. "Surely the Rua can't really aim from that far up?"
"Can't they?" said Lusius. "They'll split your eyeball if you're fool enough to stand watching it come at you!"
With a curl of his lip he said to Chalcus, "Tell me, captain-will you fill our demons up there with arrow fletching?"
"That I cannot," Chalcus admitted easily. "And do your Rua reach down long nets and snare the shell from your boats, now?"
The crew-the two fisherman and the archer as well- off the stern of a boat that'd drifted to the northern fringe of the fleet. The Sea Guard swam in a noisy crawl, keeping his head above water till he reached the skiff. The fishermen couldn't swim, so they pulled themselves hand over hand along the painter.
Four Rua dived like stooping hawks. TheDefender continued to wallow forward, but Ilna could see that the Rua would reach the boat long before the patrol vessel came within bowshot.
The chunks of glass smashed into the vessel with the sharp crack of lightning bolts. Shards flew in all directions, catching the sun. A broken plank lifted and spun over the side. Ilna nodded, now understanding why the crew had abandoned the vessel before the missiles struck. Flying pieces would've badly gashed anybody on deck, and she was quite sure that each missile hit within a handsbreadth of where a man had been standing.
There was a stir behind her. The Sea Guards were lifting wicker shields like siege mantlets out of the hull. Ilna eyed them critically. The woven willow-splits would stop missiles like the ones the Rua were dropping and cushion the impacts besides, but she didn't see how the men on the narrow deck expected to fight with all this defensive truck in the way.
Well, that was probably the answer: the Sea Guardsdidn't expect to fight, any more than the archer aboard the boat that'd been attacked did. Lusius and his men were putting on a show-for the fishermen as well as for her and Chalcus, the spies who Prince Garric had sent. The last thing Lusius really wanted was to defeat the winged men; they alone justified his continued power as Commander of the Strait.
The Rua came out of their dive by arching their chests as if they'd plunged into water, not air; their wings spread only after their bodies had started to curl upward. Quicksilver sunlight danced over the vanes which stiffened the wings' thin membranes.
"Beware to starboard!" Chalcus shouted toward the stern. Because the vessel being attacked was a little off the port bow, Ilna hadn't been paying attention to what was happening on the right side of the ship. Neither had theDefender 's officers, apparently, because the fishing boat a stone's throw ahead of them couldn't possibly get clear despite the desperate efforts of the two fishermen on their oars and the Sea Guard who screamed and waved his arms toward the patrol vessel.
Rincip was gabbling something Ilna couldn't understand-she doubted anybody else could, either-and Lusius bellowed, "Sister eat your livers, you fools!" to the fishermen. The men clogging theDefender 's deck raised their own racket, trying to see what was happening or just trying to learn from somebody else. None of that was going to help.
"Back port oars!" Chalcus called in a voice that could've doubled for a rock drill.
Only about half the rowers obeyed, and even those didn't all react at the same time. Nonetheless dragging blades and fouled oars pulled theDefender enough to the left that she didn't smash straight into the fishing boat. A bow oar struck the boat's stern; the shaft broke just above the blade, and from the scream under Ilna's feet the loom must've slammed into the oarsman's chest hard enough to break ribs. That was a cheap alternative to a crash that could've sunk both vessels.
A splinter of ash from the oar shaft spun into the air. Chalcus reached up without seeming to look and caught the piece. It was the length of a pick handle and sharp as a spear on either end. Lusius grunted in surprise. Chalcus grinned at him and tossed the splinter overboard.
"Well, captain," Lusius said. "Maybe I should hire you in Rincip's place, do you think? You saved us a bad knock when those fools got in the way."
"Ah, I'm a terrible man when the drink's in me, Commander," Chalcus said with a light laugh. "I'd not wish a scapegrace like me on so nice a fellow as yourself."
Ilna wasn't sure which way the conversation might have gone then-she began knotting a pattern in case it went the wrong way-but the unexpected happened on the far side of the fishing fleet. TheDefender was only just getting under way again and couldn't possibly reach the attacked vessel in time to take a hand, but several of the other boats were quite close to it. As the Rua flared to land like giant pigeons, the Sea Guard on a nearby boat drew his bow.
The crew of the attacked vessel had gotten aboard the skiff and cast off the painter. One of them-Ilna thought it was the soldier-screamed a horrified warning. The archer loosed nevertheless. Accuracy with a bow takes more training than the Sea Guards probably got, but it was a decent shot aided by the fact that the Rua's wings spread like blankets. The arrow snipped through one of them and thudded into the boat's far gunnel, leaving a neat hole in the wing membrane.
The fishermen on the second vessel immediately jumped over the side. The one who could swim thrashed toward the trailing skiff. The other couldn't and bobbed under the clear water. He got his foot on a coral head and jumped from it in the direction of the skiff as well.
The four Rua launched themselves from the boat on which they'd just landed. The one the arrow struck showed no sign of distress, flapping in a shallow curve that skimmed the calm water. The archer nocked a second arrow, then turned in panic without loosing it; the winged men swooped on him from four directions, arriving simultaneously.
Their wings folded as they hacked at the Sea Guard, flinging bits of flesh into the sea. He continued to scream for a surprisingly long time.
"They've got glass knives," Lusius muttered as he watched the business with a look of disgust. "Sister take them!"
The sea spouted around the fishermen in the water: missiles dropped from the cloudless sky had struck the men squarely. Their mangled bodies sank in spreading clouds of blood. One man's arm had separated.
TheDefender 's flutist leaned over the railing, staring in amazement at the slaughter. Rincip didn't order him back to his post even though the oarsmen were losing the stroke. Wood clattered as the shafts fouled one another and the patrol vessel began to wallow. The rest of the fishing fleet pulled eastward at the best rate the crews could manage on their oars.
The seawolf drove in purposefully, snapping up body parts and raising its triangular head from the water to swallow. "Our Brother," one of the Sea Guards muttered.
"Eh?" said Chalcus.
Lusius glowered and said, "Just a name."
The skiff tied to the stern of the second boat was sinking: a block of glass had struck it squarely and smashed the bottom out. Ilna was no longer sure the wicker mantlets would stop the missiles-and the Sea Guards were obviously doubtful as well.
>
"Well, you see," Lusius said in a subdued voice to Chalcus. "It's not so straight and simple as maybe you thought it was."
"Aye," Chalcus said, "there's much thinking to be done on the matter. Much thinking indeed."
The Sea Guards were nervously uncomfortable, and the faces of surviving fishermen showed blank-eyed terror as they rowed past theDefender on their way back to port and safety. Ilna supposed the scene she'd just watched was uncommon. Usually the human players would know to flee without the resistance that would lead, as surely as sunrise, to this sort of massacre.
Rua transferred belemites from the cages on the boats they'd attacked into mesh bags like the one Ilna had examined back in Carcosa. They took off with difficulty, beating their wings hard and staying low above the water until they'd gotten their speed up to that of a running man. Finally they rose and curved away toward the northwest, clutching their loot.
Two boatloads of shell were scarcely a tithe of the fishermen's haul, though. It was a cheap price for Lusius to pay, particularly since the attacks confirmed him as Commander of the Strait. But what had this to do with the merchantmen which were being plundered?
"Put about!" Lusius called to Rincip in the stern. "We may as well go back to Terness. This lot-"
He gestured dismissively toward the fishermen.
"-are done for the day." In a quieter, sneering tone he added to Chalcus, "We'll have trouble enough getting them to go out in the morning. Mark my words!"
Chalcus didn't reply; he was watching the crew of the first boat paddling back to it. The second bobbed empty, apparently abandoned for good. The archer's blood was a red splotch on the near side.
There was colorful movement on the reef. The belemites clustered around the two corpses and the bits of the third, scavenging a bounteous meal. The sun flared in gorgeous beauty from their shells.
***
Cashel blinked at the toad. It'd spoken to him, no doubt about that. "I, ah…," he said. "Sir, I don't know who the King of Kish is. I've never heard of Kish. Before."
A shooting star streaked across the sky. Its trail was gold, not silvery, and partway into its course it split into two tracks which spat down together. Cashel wondered if that had something to do with the Visitor, then decided that it didn't matter to him either way.
"'Sir?'" the toad repeated in shrill mockery. "Sir! How would you like it if I called you 'Mistress,' boy?"
Cashel pondered the question. "I don't know that I'd care much, ah, ma'am," he said. "How would you like me to call you?"
"Well, you might try Evne, since that's my name!" the toad said. "Though as my master, you're free to insult me any way you choose. I have no right to take offense; no, no, not me!"
Cashel set the two pieces of coal on the ground in front of him, the top beside the bottom in which Evne still sat. His staff leaned against the rock behind him. He took it in his hands, letting his fingers caress the polished wood. He'd felt a tingling as the block separated; the touch of the hickory erased it.
"Evne…," he said.
The toad turned her head so that she looked straight back at him, disturbing to see. Of course he was talking to a toad, which was pretty disturbing too when he stopped to think about it.
"I never meant to insult you," Cashel said. "And I'm nobody's master, ma'am. Not that I'd insult you if I was."
"You mean you're not the wizard who freed me from my confinement?" the toad said, her head twisting one way, then the other. Her bulging eyes probably saw most everything around her whichever way her face was pointed. "Who did, then?"
"Well, I broke the block open, ah, Evne," Cashel said. "I'm not a wizard, though. The fellow who gave me the coal, Lord Bossian, he's a wizard. Maybe it's him you're looking for?"
He was starting to smile at her antics. The toad chirped about like a banty rooster, all prickles and fear of insult. With little men who acted that way, you had to watch that they didn't get too much ale in them and start swinging at the biggest man around-which was always Cashel. Evne wasn't going to do that, so her fuss was just funny.
The toad turned in the hollow so she faced Cashel squarely. She moved with the deliberation of a brood sow rising from the muck, positioning each leg carefully before shifting her body above it.
"You say you're not a wizard," she said, "but you opened my prison?"
"Yes, ma'am," Cashel agreed. "I squeezed till the halves broke."
"And you really don't know who the King of Kish is?" the toad said.
"No, ma'am."
The toad scratched the back of her head with her webbed right foot, continuing to stare at Cashel. "I suppose you expect me to think you're too dumb to lie, is that it?" she said.
"Ma'am," Cashel said, "I don't lie."
He wondered what he ought to do next. Find a place to sleep, he supposed. He'd been looking forward to proper bedding instead of a second night in the open, but he'd survive.
"Well," he said, rising to his feet. "Unless there's something more you need from me, I'll be on my way."
The sky over the peaks behind him brightened with sheets of azure wizardlight. Lord Bossian was at work on something, likely enough. For lack of a better direction to go, Cashel decided he'd head the other way-west, judging from the course of the stars.
"Wait!" Evne said. "Do youreally not need me? Didn't you free me because there was a question no one else could solve, so you had to come to me?"
Cashel looked down in surprise, then squatted again with his staff balanced across his thighs. "Well, ma'am," he said. "I'm trying to get back to my friends, that's true. But I don't have any notion where they are. Any more-"
He grinned. She was such a funny little thing!
"-than I know about the King of Kish."
"Ah!" said the toad. "Now we come to it! You shouldn't be ashamed to state your problems openly, young man. Who knows what would've happened if you hadn't finally admitted the truth?"
Cashel frowned. "You mean you can help me get back, Evne?" he said. It didn't seem likely, but it wasn't likely he'd be sitting here in a rocky valley talking to a toad either.
"Of course, of course!" the toad said. "There had to be something!"
Cashel didn't know Evne well enough to be sure, but it seemed to him that she was relieved. There were plenty of people who talked about how put upon they were with everybody wanting their help, but who got really huffy if youdidn't need something. Apparently toads were built the same as people in that way.
"We'll need a mirror," the toad said, looking around again. If she thought she was going to find a mirror in this landscape, she was more at sea than Cashel was. "Quite a large mirror, big enough to reflect your whole body, my man. And it should be as nearly perfect as possible."
"I don't know where there'd be a mirror, Evne," Cashel said. He thought for a moment. "I guess Lord Bossian has one, but he wouldn't be pleased to see me come back."
He looked over his shoulder, up the slope of shadowed crags and cedars. The blue glare had sunk to occasional flickers, but as Cashel watched a great bolt shot up into the sky. Clouds absorbed it, shimmering as bright as a huge blue sun for a moment.
"Besides," Cashel said. "His palace wouldn't be a good place to be tonight."
"Well, what could I expect from you?" the toad said. She didn't sound put out, not really. "I shouldn't have expected any better. We'll use water, then. A good-sized pool, perfectly still."
Scratching her head with the other leg the toad added, "There's often insects around a pond." She looked up sharply and went on, as fiercely as a funny little thing like her could be, "Not that I'm putting my convenience before the duty I owe you for freeing me! I would never do that."
"I'm sure you wouldn't, Evne," Cashel said, having difficulty in keeping the smile from his lips. He found it hard to believe that the toad could really help him return to his own world, but she must know something. She'd lived for ever so long in a block of coal, after all.
He cleared his throat. "Ah…," he said, r
eaching into his wallet and feeling for the remaining jewels. "I'm a stranger here so I'm not sure about where water is, but I've got a jewel, sort of, that'll tell us."
Cashel knew it was going to sound like he'd been lying when he said he wasn't a wizard. It shouldn't matter to him what a toad thought, but it did.
"A fellow gave them to me. A demon did."
Evne made a shrill sound, the sort of call ordinary toads give on summer nights. She didn't speak further.
Grimacing, Cashel rose to his feet. He didn't need to be standing when he did this, but he felt better if he was. The sparks were parts of Kakoral, and Cashel wouldn't have wanted to be squatting down whenthat one came for him.
He threw the ruby against the rock, pretty much the same place that the previous one had hit. He couldn't be sure of that, because when the jewels burst all the bits vanished like dew in the sunlight.
"Ah!" cried the manikin this time. "You didn't need me, that was what you thought, wasn't it? That's what you said, at least!"
Cashel wondered if there was one sparkling little creature or if each ruby freed a different one. They sure didn't act the same; but neither do people, depending on when you catch them and what their day's been like so far.
"I still don't need you," Cashel said quietly, "but I'd appreciate your help if you'll give it. We're looking for a pool of water we can use for a mirror. Can you direct us, sir?"
"Can I?" said the little man. "CanI? Of course I can! But can you face the truth about the woman you protected, master?"
"Yes," said Cashel, holding his staff upright at his side. There was no point in saying more when a simple word would do.
The manikin snapped its fingers. A lightning-bright spark flashed into images in place of the solid rock.
When he watched the demon's earlier pictures, Cashel thought he was looking at a scene from the past. This time Cashel watched events that must've taken hours, but he felt no passage of time himself.