‘The iron mage’s spell broke three of her ribs. There is some internal bleeding, though I cannot yet determine how severe. Should her internal organs be damaged … No, let us make no maps of lands yet unseen. If she recovers consciousness by morning, there will be reason for hope. Now, the fire?’
I ran over and put the rest of the wood onto the glowing embers, then laid a few bits of tinder on top. When it didn’t light right away, I peppered it with a bit of the black powder, then sprinkled some of the red on top, causing it to ignite. Within seconds the flames began to rise.
‘Good,’ the woman said, setting Ferius down next to the campfire. ‘Now, if you could do me one further service?’
‘What?’ I asked.
She gestured over my shoulder. ‘Kindly ask your … business partner to stop whatever strange ritual it is that he’s performing upon my prisoner?’
I turned to see Reichis sitting on top of the silk mage’s chest, one paw reaching out to push up the old man’s eyelid, the other curving to scoop out his eyeball. ‘Come on … come on …’
‘Reichis, stop that!’
The squirrel cat turned and gave me a warning growl. ‘Are you kidding me? These Jan’Tep skinbags nearly killed us all. No way am I waiting for them to wake up so they can try again. Also, I’m hungry.’
‘What does he say?’ the Argosi asked.
‘He’s … reminding me that two mages, unconscious or not, will soon become a serious problem.’
‘The animal has a point.’ She sighed and rose to her feet. ‘Keep watch over the Path of … forgive me. She is Ferius to you, is she not?’
‘Who is she to you?’
‘I know her as the Path of the Wild Daisy.’
‘Stupid name,’ Reichis grumbled, still eyeing the silk mage.
The Argosi walked over to the squirrel cat, then got down on her knees and propped herself up on her elbows until her head was at the same height as his. ‘Leave the men to me, warrior of the treetops. I will do what must be done.’
Reichis snarled and thrust his muzzle forward before sniffing at her again. I’m not sure what he was looking for, but the little monster is a sucker for compliments. ‘Warrior of the treetops. I like that.’ He hopped off the silk mage’s chest and headed into the darkness. ‘I’m going to go murder a rabbit or two,’ he informed me. ‘It’s what we treetop warriors do.’
After he was gone, the Argosi reached into the folds of her garments. I figured she was going to pull a knife and almost considered objecting. Ferius did whatever she had to in a fight, but I’d never seen her kill someone who couldn’t fight back. Then again, I wasn’t entirely sure I agreed with that position. Ancestors, now the squirrel cat’s got me acting bloodthirsty.
It turned out that the Argosi woman wasn’t drawing a knife, but a tight bundle wrapped in cloth. She unwound the fabric to reveal a small mortar and pestle along with several jars. Two of these she opened, and began mixing some of the contents together.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
‘The iron mage’s burns aren’t fatal, but they will be if I leave them untended.’
‘Wait … that’s your plan? You’re going to treat the wounds of the men who tried to kill us?’
‘I find it’s rarely productive to negotiate with a corpse.’
‘Negotiate? Are you serious? These men are hextrackers. Bounty hunters. Jan’Tep mages who only get paid if they bring back a body. Now you want to heal their wounds and try to talk them out of it?’
The Argosi’s eyes narrowed even as she continued preparing her mixture. ‘You travel with my sister and yet she has not taught you the Way of Water? It is not our custom to end the journey of another without first offering them a different path.’
I tried and failed to come up with an appropriate response to this lunacy and eventually gave up, instead keeping watch on Ferius and making sure my fingers stayed warm and my hands limber for when I’d inevitably need them. Seneira, swinging her stick a little wildly in front of her, came and joined me by the fire. ‘So, I guess your life is about to become as stupid as mine.’
‘Good evening,’ the Argosi said to the two men as their eyes blinked open. She spoke in the casual tones you might use upon encountering fellow travellers on an empty road, rather than when facing mortal enemies who’d tried to kill you only hours before.
After she’d worked on their wounds, the woman who called herself the Path of Thorns and Roses had sat the two men up, back to back, resting against each other. I’d assumed she was going to tie them up that way, and had been about to point out that unless she was carrying spelled copper or silver wire with her, there were still a number of spells they could use against us. But she didn’t bind them. Instead she withdrew a tiny jar barely bigger than her thumb from inside the folds of her garments and popped the cork from the top. ‘You and Seneira kindly wait over there,’ she said, nodding to a spot several yards away from the fire that was shrouded in darkness.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘These men have reason to kill you, do they not? Let us not add to the temptation.’
Once Seneira and I had done as instructed, the Argosi tapped a pinch of white powder from the jar onto her fingertip and then gently placed a few grains beneath each man’s nose before replacing the cork and sitting back to watch. A few seconds later, both men had coughed into wakefulness.
The silk mage’s first act was to bring his hand up, fingers forming a somatic shape I didn’t recognise but which I doubted would be good for any of us. I started reaching for my powders but the Argosi shot me a warning glance. Since there was no way she could see me where I stood in the darkness, she must have anticipated my reaction. ‘You are in no danger,’ she said.
The silk mage smiled, making the wrinkled skin of his face twist along the lines of his mouth. ‘You are.’
The Argosi nodded. ‘Always. It is a dangerous world we live in.’
‘Perhaps, but considerably less dangerous for mages of our power than for wandering philosophers who meddle in the affairs of others.’
Had I been part of the conversation, I might have been tempted to point out that neither of these men had sparked more than a single band, which made them just about the least powerful kind of mage my people produce. Next to me, of course.
The Argosi made no such comment. Instead her expression was thoughtful, as though she were giving careful consideration to the silk mage’s words. ‘I believe you are right. The world is more dangerous for wandering philosophers, as you say.’
The iron mage, a man with thin red hair, perhaps ten years younger than his comrade, gave a hoarse laugh. ‘See how quickly the famed Argosi back down? The woman wishes to bargain for her own life.’
She shook her head. ‘Forgive me, but you are incorrect. I wish to negotiate for your life.’
The silk mage’s fingers began to twitch. ‘You would threaten a Jan’Tep mage? Lie upon your belly, woman, and kiss my feet before I draw you inside a spell that will tear your mind apart. Your soul will be shredded into a thousand pieces as your empty spirit watches, helpless and screaming until the heart within your chest sheds its last wasted beat.’
Not bad, I thought. My people aren’t big on poetry but we appreciate a well-composed death threat. The Argosi, however, returned a soft, almost musical laugh. ‘I do not think you want me in your head, master mage. I’m told I have an unpleasant disposition.’
The look in the man’s eyes told me she’d gone too far. Before I could do anything to help, the silk mage locked his gaze on her. With the whisper of a single word the air between them began to shimmer. He was pulling her into a silk spell – not an especially powerful one, if I understood it correctly, but one that would soon destroy her mind regardless. I was just about to ignore the Argosi’s demand that I do nothing when the silk mage shouted into the night sky. ‘Stop! Let me go!’ The air between them became still as the spell broke. His breathing was shallow as he slowly recovered his composure. ‘How is this
possible?’ he asked.
The Argosi shrugged apologetically. ‘We are travellers. It is in our nature to accept each journey for what it is, without fear, without judgement.’
The man glanced over at the fire and Ferius’s unconscious form. ‘But she …’
‘You took my sister unawares. I do not suggest you attempt it once she wakens.’ The Argosi leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Many find her disposition even more disagreeable than my own.’ She reached out a finger and tapped the mage’s forehead. ‘Fill your mind with brighter thoughts, master mage. It is unwise to carry so much ugliness inside you.’
The iron mage growled at his comrade, ‘Stop letting her distract you with her words. Cast another spell and destroy her!’
The silk mage shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘I will not touch her thoughts a second time.’
‘Fine, then I’ll deal with her.’
The iron mage raised his right hand, forming the sign of the gut sword he’d used to attack us before. The Argosi held up a finger. ‘That too would be unwise.’
The mage ignored her, stabbing his fingers out in a thrusting motion as he spoke the incantation for an iron spell we call the blood hammer. At first nothing happened, but then he doubled over and vomited onto the ground. ‘What have you done to me?’ he groaned.
The Argosi spread her hands wide, revealing empty palms. ‘Nothing, master mage, save to apply a healing salve to your burns. Alas, the mixture requires powdered nightbloom leaves to speed recovery and numb the pain.’
‘Weakweed?’ the iron mage shouted. ‘You poisoned my magic!’
‘Hardly. I assure you the dosage was carefully considered. Within two or three days you’ll be able to work your Jan’Tep spells once again. As your physician, however, I’d advise against it. Give yourself time to heal, and in that healing, perhaps a chance to find new insight.’
The silk mage, seemingly having recovered now, asked, ‘And what insight do you suppose that would be, Argosi?’
‘Only this: that there are things in this world more dangerous than spells, master mages.’ She held each man’s gaze in turn. Even from where I sat, a dozen yards away in the darkness, I found her calm terrifying. Finally she said, ‘I am one of those things.’
For a long time no one spoke. The Argosi seemed to be waiting for something, some hidden acknowledgement in the two men’s eyes that I couldn’t see. She must have found it, however, because when she sat back, she said, ‘Good. Now, shall we begin those negotiations?’
9
The Two Decks
I didn’t think it was possible to feel bored so soon after having nearly died, but the Argosi proved me wrong. I’d assumed her version of ‘negotiations’ would amount to a few carefully worded threats. It turned out to be a verbal contract that must have been almost as long as the final peace treaty that ended the last war between the Daroman empire and the Jan’Tep arcanocracy. By the time the two mages had started making their way back down the road, I was fairly sure they’d forgotten why they’d come here in the first place.
My own legs and back were stiff from sitting silently next to Seneira for the past two hours. She’d dozed off a couple of times, leaning her head against my shoulder. It felt odd to be so close to someone about whom I knew nothing – especially someone who seemed quite convinced I was the local village idiot. For her part, she seemed to have decided that life was already as unpleasant as it could get and she might as well sleep through as much of it as she could.
‘What’d I miss?’ Reichis asked, dropping a partially eaten rabbit carcass on the ground next to where Seneira and I sat.
‘Oh spirits of earth and air, what is that smell?’ she asked, pushing herself up and swinging her stick in wild arcs as she stumbled away, swearing about idiot farmhands and their stupid talking animals. I didn’t bother mentioning that I’d never been to a farm in my life.
Reichis was profoundly offended by her outrage. He picked the rabbit back up in his mouth and muttered, ‘None for her, I guess.’
‘Will you people keep it down?’ came a weary, croaking voice from near the campfire. ‘Can’t a body die in peace?’
I jumped to my feet and ran to Ferius. Her face was pale and her hair lank, but when her eyes found me she gave me a little smirk that loosened the clamps around my chest and let me breathe easier for the first time since the fight. ‘Hey, kid,’ she said, reaching up a hand to put it against my cheek. Her eyes narrowed as she listened to the incessant stream of Seneira’s swearing. ‘Your little friend’s got quite the vocabulary.’
‘Her name’s Seneira,’ I replied. ‘She doesn’t think much of me.’
‘Well, you take some getting used to.’ Ferius passed a hand over her ribs, her fingers stopping at the bandages wrapped around her torso. ‘Did you take up medicine ways while I was napping?’
‘Hello, sister,’ the other Argosi said, coming to stand next to me. She reached behind her neck and unfastened the clasp holding the wide strip of cloth that hid the lower half of her face. I guess I’d assumed she must have some kind of disfigurement, but underneath the covering she looked perfectly ordinary to me. Her skin was darker than Ferius’s, more Berabesq than Daroman, but she could just as easily have been Jan’Tep or one of the borderland folk. Centuries of migrations across the seas had led to a mix of cultures on this continent, bonded more by purpose than by racial origin.
‘Kid?’ Ferius asked.
‘Yeah?’
‘During the fight, did I get hit on the head real hard?’
‘Not that I saw.’
She sighed. ‘That’s what I figured. Hey, Rosie.’
I turned to the other Argosi. ‘Rosie? That’s your name?’
The woman looked pained. And annoyed. ‘The Path of the Wild Daisy is one that too often takes solace in simple amusements.’
‘Got that right,’ Ferius said. She reached out a hand to me. ‘Help me up, kid. No sense putting this off.’
Something about her expression made me wary. ‘Putting what off?’ I asked.
She struggled just to sit up, wincing from the pain. ‘Gotta kick Rosie’s ass.’
‘Wait – what? You can’t be serious. She helped save us! Besides, you have three broken ribs. You nearly died!’
‘Yeah, well, life is short. Gotta get to the important things while you still can.’
I glanced over to where Seneira was running a brush across the donkey’s coat. Maybe she can tell me what the hell’s going on.
The other Argosi seemed neither concerned nor amused. ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to put off our – what is that word you find so entertaining? “Wrastlin’”?’ She knelt down and reached into the folds of her garments once again, this time pulling out a deck of cards. ‘I have news.’
Ferius pursed her lips, staring at the cards, then reached into her black leather waistcoat and pulled out her own deck. This one I recognised as her true deck – each suit a representation of a people and its ways, the ‘concordances’ as she called them. The deck held other cards too, special cards that Ferius said were unique to each Argosi; the so-called ‘discordances’ that depicted people or events that could change the course of history. ‘Let’s get to it then,’ Ferius said. ‘But next time you and me are goin’ round and round, Rosie.’
The other woman sat opposite her and began laying cards from her deck face down between them. Ferius did the same.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked. ‘A minute ago you were ready to fight and now you’re—’
Ferius looked up at me. ‘What does it look like we’re doing, kid? We’re playing cards.’
The first time I’d met Ferius she’d taught me dozens of card games. I had a good memory for this sort of thing, and I was pretty sure I remembered them all. Whatever game she played with Rosie was something I’d never seen before. It seemed to consist of picking up seven of your opponent’s cards at random, examining them and laying them out in a pattern. The other player would th
en do likewise. The process would repeat itself with new cards and, once they ran out, they would reshuffle the decks, never seeming to arrive at an end point.
Seneira sat next to me. ‘Don’t suppose your Argosi ever told you why they use the cards instead of talking to each other like normal people?’ she asked.
‘I think … I think there’s more in the images on the cards than we might recognise,’ I said, my eyes still glued to the strange game playing out before me. ‘And the patterns they use when they’re arranging the cards … maybe they can convey things that can’t be spoken with words.’
Seneira groaned. ‘Now you sound like one of them. I was really hoping there would be someone sensible I could talk to.’
‘She can talk to me,’ Reichis chittered, sauntering over to sit next to us. ‘I’m the most sensible one here.’
‘Reichis says you can—’
‘Please don’t tell me when your squirrel cat speaks to you,’ Seneira said.
‘Um, okay. Why not?’
‘Because I’m pretty sure squirrel cats don’t actually talk and I was hoping to pretend you weren’t crazy for a little while longer.’
Reichis snorted. ‘She has a point, Kellen. I always thought you were a bit—’
‘Shut up, Reichis.’
The bizarre card game went on for another hour or so. Periodically Ferius would break the silence with some offhand comment like, ‘Well, well, who knew the Gitabrian merchants’ guild would ever sort that mess out,’ or, ‘Figured some Daroman general would get to that old fool eventually.’
The other Argosi – I was still having trouble picturing her as a ‘Rosie’ – seemed to prefer silence, so much so that after Ferius had spoken aloud for the ninth or tenth time she asked, ‘Does it serve some purpose to go on prattling like this?’
‘Serves me just fine. You feelin’ a touch antsy? You could always get on that donkey of yours and ride into town to find us some liquor.’
‘Liquor. Smoking reeds. This silly borderland slang you put on. You lose your way, sister.’
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