by John Daulton
“It doesn’t seem reasonable that anyone would steal copper anyway,” Jasper said. “Why would anyone risk, well, us, sent by the Queen, for what little profit there is to be had? It doesn’t make economic sense, even for a criminal, not this far from anywhere.”
Ilbei nodded. “I expect you’re more right than wrong with that, but weren’t no way to tell. Whoever done these fellers weren’t after it, that’s sure. Makin this a feedin opportunity.”
“How many do you think there were?” Meggins asked, stooping near the fire and looking at the tracks as Ilbei had done before him. “I’m thinking there were maybe three.”
“I’d guess the same,” Ilbei said. “Makin that feller downstream spot on.”
“So what do we do now, Sarge?” Kaige asked. “Jasper already said he don’t have nothing for harpy disease.”
“We’ll check the rest of the miners up the creek to the source, if’n there are any, then head back and see what Major says. Hopefully it will be somethin what makes sense.”
Kaige grimaced. “But what about the craze? I don’t want no craze.”
“You’ve had it since birth,” Meggins said, attempting levity. It failed. Even he didn’t laugh.
“You won’t contract anything from them straight away,” Jasper said. “It’s not a magical affliction, you know. There’s no instant onset of symptoms. You simply run the risk of exposure to all the standard diseases expected around unwashed bodies, offal, human excrement, decaying flesh and those sorts of ailments that perpetuate themselves in brothels, particularly in those found along the Decline in Murdoc Bay, Blanks Quarter in Leekant and some of the darker parts of Crown City where especially nasty varieties abound.”
“Well, I feel much better about it now,” Meggins said, making no attempt to disguise the sarcasm in his voice. “Don’t you, Kaige? Sarge?”
Ilbei ignored it, studying Jasper for a moment instead. The young magician looked back at him steadily, with such open innocence, such unaffected surety, that Ilbei decided the lad likely knew what he was talking about. Ilbei had never heard anything about harpies using magic either, though the truth was, he’d never had reason to ask. Harpies, like yetis, ettins and giant scorpions, were known to exist in mountainous regions and high foothills. They were seen often enough, killed often enough or found dead often enough to keep their existence from becoming myth, but just often enough and not one bit more. They were more the stuff of campfire stories to frighten city folks and small children than realities for grown men to worry over much. Much.
However, Ilbei was not the sort to throw caution into the campfire based on long odds, and given what they’d found, it didn’t seem the odds were so long as he’d thought they were only a few hours before. It was only with the assurance of the young mage, who seemed so well read on the nature of the threat, that he decided to keep his people moving upstream. Onward they went, though this time with grim hearts and a quiet sobriety uncharacteristic of the first part of the day—excepting Jasper, who, having been somewhat pouty earlier, now seemed to appreciate being taken seriously for once. He, in the absence of that dark mood, once again began to pronounce the names of certain flora as they came across them, extolling the various properties therein: what made this weed useful as a reagent, this bit of moss perfect for a poultice and a healing salve, or this little leaf ground up in a recipe for bitter or for sweet.
Over the course of the next two hours, they found five more small camps, all of them abandoned. Given the skeletal condition of the last miners they’d found, the vacancies were either a blessing or just more bad news. There were no more harpy tracks, however, nor were there bodies to be found, so there was some hope that the miners had simply grown weary of such a dismal, scarce existence and moved on.
Another half hour beyond the last of the individual camps, the climb had begun to grow steeper, and the flanking slopes that shaped the path of the creek began to become pinched and steep themselves, carving out a long, wide gully. At this point, the grass and scrub oaks that had been growing along the edges of the high-water line for most of the trip gave way to scraggly pines that seemed to cling to the gravelly soil in desperation. More than a few thrust out from nearly vertical inclines, and in places nothing grew at all. The creek was much louder there.
They found the source of the creek, just as the miner had told them it would be, or nearly so, as he’d failed to mention it originated from an opening some twenty feet up a nearly sheer incline, spewing out of a hole that looked as if someone had come along and tried to tap the ridgeline halfway up like an ale keg. Judging from the loose shale that banked and heaped itself along the lower parts, where the scrappy pines took on a horizontal growing strategy, ascent would be a nightmare of shifting rock with edges that would cut like dull, nasty razors. And that was only to get started going up.
Ilbei glanced around again, suspecting that the area had once been the bottom of a large pool. Looking up to where the incline pinched into the mountain itself, a cliff face marking the easternmost portion of the lowest of several steppes, it seemed likely that once, long ago, there would have been a good fifty-span waterfall. Harpy Creek was all that remained of a once significant waterway.
“It smells like vinegar,” he said, upon assessing the area. He tilted his head back and looked up into the hole from which the water spat. “But I damn sure don’t smell anythin like vulture filth blowin out of there.”
Meggins and Kaige took the comment in stride, having been told back in Hast of Ilbei’s olfactory gifts. But Jasper turned a querulous look upon the gray-bearded sergeant with a tilt of his head. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Smellin is my sort of magic, son.”
“So what do you suppose the vinegar is, Sarge?” Meggins made a point of sniffing carefully at the air, which Kaige emulated right after.
“I don’t know. We’ll get up there and have a look right quick.” He swiveled his head and saw Jasper staring up at the hole, sniffing the air as Meggins and Kaige were. “Jasper, since you’re the skinniest of the lot, see if’n ya can get up there and have a look inside. Careful now, that shale will slide on ya and slice ya up like a heap of dragon’s teeth.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. It’d be the work of half a day to open that wide enough fer me or Kaige to get through, and we might even have to grease Meggins up to make him fit, even if’n there was one of them potameides inside, flirtin and makin sweet promises. That means it’s you what goes. So get along now.”
“Get along and what?” Jasper gasped.
“Get on up there and see what’s in there makin that smell.”
“But I don’t smell anything. And frankly, I think your assessment of the diameter of that opening is rather stingy. Granted, it’s difficult to gauge from down here, but by the volume of water issuing from it, I’d sa—”
Ilbei grabbed Jasper by his arms and turned him physically around, facing him toward the hole. “Ya done heard me already, lad, so up ya go.”
“That’s right, lad,” Meggins echoed, doing a fair impression of Ilbei’s voice. “Up ya go.” Both he and Kaige were snorting and making sounds that bordered on giggling.
Jasper started to protest again, but the firm hand of Sergeant Spadebreaker on his back was enough to set him in motion. He looked up toward the opening and sighed, withering in the heat. “Fine,” he said. “But if I die, let it be on your conscience.”
“I can live with that,” Ilbei said. “Now get to it.”
Chapter 9
Just as it had appeared it would be, climbing the slope under his own power was impossible. Though not vertical, the slope was so steep that, try as he might, Jasper could not get more than three or four spans up it before the loose rocks slipped and slid beneath his feet, his balance gave way and down he’d come, sliding amongst a small, sharp-edged avalanche. Needless to say, the first few times quite amused Meggins and Kaige, but on the fourth attempt, Kaige stopped laughing when Jasper slid to the bottom ag
ain, this time protesting and showing several cuts on his hands and along his shins where the slate had sliced him. The long red lines of blood that ran freely into the slender wizard’s shoes apparently touched the big man’s sensibilities. Kaige turned to Ilbei at that point and shook his head. “He is sort of scrawny for it, Sarge. Maybe I should go and set him up a rope.”
Ilbei had just been thinking the same thing and nodded, despite Meggins protesting, “Now where’s the fun in that?”
Kaige helped Jasper up, the young magician’s hand vanishing in the great mitt of Kaige’s giant one, and then the burly warrior set himself to the task. If it could be said that Meggins was amused by Jasper’s failed attempts moments before, well, the sight of mighty Kaige rolling back down the slope put him into seizures. Kaige took a second run at it, his long legs speeding him up the slope, and he managed nearly half the distance before his feet slipped out yet again. Down he came, this time tumbling all the way down and bowling into Meggins, the two of them rolling into a tangled heap. Meggins was in tears, he laughed so hard, and even Ilbei was grinning some, but only until Kaige unwound himself, drew the bastard sword off his back and strode up the slope again, this time plunging the weapon into the hillside to use as an anchor. At that point, Ilbei had to call him off.
“That’s enough,” he said. “Don’t do that. We’ll find another way.”
“I’ll get it, Sergeant,” Meggins said. “You can’t send a ninny or an oaf to do a man’s job.” And with that, Meggins launched himself up the hill, scrambling on all fours like an ape in leather armor.
He didn’t fare any better than the others had, and when his feet slid out from under him and he rolled back down, not only was Ilbei laughing, even Jasper was. Meggins lay on his back near Kaige’s feet, looking up at his comrades, the dust of his descent still swirling around him, as Ilbei asked, “So which one are ya, oaf or ninny?”
“Both,” he said, grinning.
Jasper took his satchel off his back and began rummaging through it, until eventually he pulled out a scroll with a ring of orange ribbon binding it. A length of ribbon dangled from the knot, which he stretched out so that he might read what was written there. He nodded, confirming something to himself, then held the scroll up for the rest of them to see. “This will work,” he said, “if one of you wants to attach a rope up there.”
“What is it?” Ilbei asked.
“It’s a levitation spell. I can get myself up there, of course, but once I go inside, I’ll have to cancel it. So I’ll have no way down. I am abundantly familiar with knots, of course, but if there is nothing to tie to inside, my bringing a rope with me will still be meaningless. I don’t believe I am physically qualified to safely drive a piton into the rock.” He inclined his head toward Meggins in an indicative sort of way, then stared at Ilbei patiently.
Meggins narrowed his eyes at that, but there was still laughter lingering in them. “You sneaky bastard,” he said. “I should have known you had it set for me all along.”
“It’s only reasonable to send up the person most suited to the task,” Jasper replied. “A few moments ago, when the only obstacle appeared to be an issue of size, I was that candidate in your minds. But now that there is an element of strength required, you, being the next order of leanness from me, are the obvious choice.”
“Enough,” Ilbei said. “Read yer scroll. Meggins, get yer climbin gear. We need to be on with this and head back. We’re already goin to be pushin our time as it is.”
“I still don’t know why we have to hurry back to sit in on a game of ruffs,” Meggins said. “What’s he think, we came out here for the camping and recreating, like we’re on our leave?”
“I ain’t even tried to figure it,” Ilbei said. “Speculatin on such a thing puts me too close to insubordination if’n I speak it, and there’s been often enough in my time where I couldn’t see the landscape fer the spot a’ land I was standin on. If’n he’s got a bigger idea than I can reckon, so be it. If’n he don’t, well, I don’t expect he’s gonna win anythin from me that will set me back much. He may fancy hisself a fine sport at ruffs, but there ain’t a trick I haven’t seen a thousand times.”
“Well, I’m not too proud to admit I can be beaten—or cheated,” Meggins admitted as he hauled out a length of rope, a hammer and a rolled leather packet of steel spikes. “Been both enough times to know it.” He pulled out one of the spikes and threaded the end of the rope through an eye punched in it near its blunt end.
“Well don’t ya go accusin no nobleman of cheatin tonight. Even if he is. Just come in with whatever ya think ya can turn, and if’n ya can’t turn it, make sure it ain’t more than ya can walk away from without hurtin ya none. I’ll try to get it back fer ya, by cards or by protest, if’n ya do. And if’n I can’t, when we get back to Hast, I’ll put in a request fer reimbursement, bein as ya been ordered to play.”
Meggins looked up from his work, watching Ilbei, who looked him straight back in the eye and nodded that it was true. “You will?”
“I will, if’n ya don’t play the fool about it,” Ilbei said. “I ain’t got no say-so over a major, but I know the system well enough to make it right when we come round.”
Meggins smiled, nodded and went back to work. “Then maybe I’ll enjoy the game.”
“Just keep to what I said. I can’t promise to get yer stake back.”
“I understand,” Meggins said. He slipped the coiled rope over his head, around his neck and shoulder, and tucked a few extra pitons and the hammer into his belt. Turning to Jasper, he said, “You ready there, wizard?”
“I am,” Jasper said. “Just tell me up or down, closer or farther, softer or harder.”
Meggins frowned. “Softer or harder?”
“Yes. I can adjust it so you are standing on solid ground or something that gives like mud or sand, and even lateral movement as if you are standing on ice.”
“Ah, I got you,” Meggins said. “Okay, well, let’s go, then. And don’t drop me.”
“I won’t.”
Jasper stretched the scroll to its full length and began reading in a language none of them understood. Ilbei watched him, waiting, and eventually wondering how many damned words could possibly be written on a single scroll. And then Meggins was floating in the air.
The wiry warrior rose up smoothly, straight up, until he was standing in the air at chest height to the rest of them, at which point he gave out a whoop. “Holy Hestra and her seven-headed son! Kaige, you seeing me?” He turned, as if fearing somehow he might fall off, and grinned down at everyone.
“I see you, Ferster. I see you.” Kaige looked absolutely delighted, and he turned to the chanting wizard, buoyed by giddiness. “Jasper, Jasper, can I go next?”
“Don’t interrupt him, you fool,” Meggins snapped. “He’ll drop me like a burning rat.”
Kaige looked horrified and apologized.
“All right, get me up there, Jasper,” Meggins said. “Easy now.”
Jasper did not acknowledge the request, but up Meggins went, angling toward the hole midway up the unassailable slope. He flew straight for it as if on a line, and when he got to it, Jasper’s cadence as he read slowed and became a mumbling repetition of a singular set of lines.
Meggins leaned toward the hole where the water spat out, and he peered into the darkness. “I think I can get through,” he called down, “but I’m going to need a light. I should have brought a light. Can you bring me back down for one?”
Just like that, he was descending again, a broad grin on his face. Kaige could hardly contain his jealousy, and he ticked and hawed like an eight-year-old in line for a gryphon ride at the Crown City Royal Faire.
Ilbei lit a torch and handed it to him with two extras, just in case. “Ya can toss em in if’n ya need to.”
“Good idea,” he said. “Okay, up again.”
Once more Jasper’s chant altered a little as he read, and a few moments later, Meggins was peering into the hole with his torch. �
��Not much room in there,” he said. “A crawlspace in the water. I think it opens up a few spans in.”
“Ya smell carrion or shite?” Ilbei called up to him. “Anythin that might be harpy stink?”
“No, Sarge. Don’t smell anything. Not even your vinegar.”
“Can ya get in there far enough to see?”
“Yeah, I think so. Give me a sec.” Meggins shifted the rope on his shoulder and leaned into the hole, bracing against the bottom of the flow with one hand, reaching in deeper with the torch. “Move me up about three hands,” he called back, his voice amplified as it washed out of the hole.
Jasper altered his reading slightly, for the barest few seconds, and Meggins’ feet moved up to where his knees had been.
“That’s good,” Meggins shouted. Then he hunched down and crawled into the hole, his knees as wide apart as the opening would allow, sort of hopping on his one hand while raising the other as high as possible to keep the torch from getting wet. The water splashed all around him, and he spat and swore as the current, disturbed by his blocking it, nearly snuffed the torch anyway.
“Are ya all right in there?” Ilbei shouted up at him.
“Yeah, fine,” Meggins called back. “Just give me a few.”
For a time there was silence as Ilbei and the rest of them craned their necks, watching the hole and waiting for Meggins to reappear. Jasper stopped chanting as soon as Meggins’ boots vanished into the darkness. He blinked a few times, shook his head as if to clear a daze, and began waving the parchment in the air at arm’s length, trying to stay clear of the blue smoke that had begun issuing from it the moment he stopped reading.
Ilbei and Kaige stepped away from the smoke as well, as there was no telling what it might contain, and they watched for a few moments until it finally stopped. Jasper held the parchment taut, and Ilbei saw that it was now blank. All that magic writing was gone. Jasper stretched it and tilted it away from himself, then blew off a dust of purplish ash. Apparently satisfied that it was as he wished, he rolled it back up again, sliding the ring of ribbon around it and adding a small knot at the dangling tip to mark the scroll as spent. Without even glancing to Ilbei or Kaige, he simply resumed watching the hole from which the water came.