The wind died. Unfortunately, the rain didn’t.
Tsai’dona’s little mare skittered sideways.
The evil gelding bucked.
Bess squeaked and covered her mouth with both hands.
The team halted. He couldn’t see either horse past the pine branch on his legs.
Hemlock bucked again. Lorel clung to her saddle and slapped the beast’s neck. The horse shook all over like a songbird settling its feathers and ambled forward.
The sweet scent of pine surrounded him. Rain-diluted pitch dripped onto his sodden trousers, onto the wet blanket he wore as a cloak.
Tsai’dona guided her mare back to the wagon. She squinted up at him, but instantly her eyes widened. “How badly are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” Lorel looked back and reined her horse to a halt. “I don’t believe it. Kid, you got the weirdest luck.”
“Off.” Bess pushed feebly at a needle-coated branch. “I want it off of me.”
Good idea. He shoved against the sticky bark.
Nothing moved.
He braced his foot on the driver’s platform and heaved, straining against the wood until he couldn’t breathe.
It didn’t even shift.
Lorel dismounted and tied her horse to the middle of the wagon. “How’d you manage to get a whole tree on you?”
Tsai’dona swung off her mare and strolled beside her. “How will we get it off them?”
Bess slammed her fist against the tree trunk. “Off, you cretin.”
“Hey, the old lady’s got some spark left.” Lorel reached up and grabbed Bess around the ribs. “This way.” She tugged the older woman under the dripping branches, across the wet bench, and eased her to the ground.
“Thank you.” Bess pulled her trousers up and her wool tunic down. “Can you slide this way, pet?”
His thighs were pinned to the bench, but he sensed the shield protecting him. “Hold a minute.” He attempted to widen his shield.
His power flickered. The tree groaned. Weight pressed on his legs.
He concentrated harder. Wiggled to one side. But he was still trapped.
Rain splatted off the wagon’s roof and dribbled onto his head. The lightning-blasted weather was out to get him today.
Abruptly he was free. He scooted to the edge of the driver’s bench.
Lorel lowered the trunk and snatched him off the seat. “Did you magic that thing?”
“Did you wake up this morning? Put me down, noodle brain.”
“Ain’t been to bed yet, so I guess not.” Dawn glimmered onto her wet face as she grinned at him. At long last, the turybird set his foot on the ground.
“Bahtdor bait.” He brushed sticky pine needles off his clothes. “I can’t hold it up forever.”
“Got it.” Lorel strolled to the rear of the wagon, pulled their largest hatchet out of the middle trunk, and marched back to the platform. “I’ll chop off the ends.”
Tsai’dona walked up with the other hatchet. “You chop that side, I’ll work on the skinny end.”
He pushed his wet hair out of his face. “Cut off the branches and it’ll be easier to lift off.” At least he was good for advice, even if he couldn’t help. He made a mental note to buy a third hatchet, or even a woodcutter’s axe.
While they battled the tree, he unharnessed the team, unsaddled the riding horses – the evil gelding tried to eat him before Lorel dropped her hatchet and rescued him – and led the horses to a meadow near a creek.
All four animals looked exhausted.
Blast. He was slimier than a slug lost in an abuelo snake’s deepest, stinkiest den. He knew better than to work horses so hard. Had he had a choice? Not in the middle of the storm.
The horses perked up after he freed them inside the meadow. They tore at the wet grass as if they were starving.
His turybird would be starving once she finished chopping wood. That he could fix. He set several coney snares at the edge of the meadow.
Holding the shield and wandering around was hard work, but he assumed it counted as magical practice.
Kyri didn’t confirm or deny the thought. Was it still out hunting? Or was it lost in the forest? Blast, could it have been washed away?
He nudged the serpent mentally with his concerns.
It sent back an image of entertaining the serdil cub. Of telling it a story? That couldn’t be right.
How had it gotten inside in the middle of a hurricane?
He glanced at the wagon’s shutters, but stopped and stared at the vehicle. Could there really be more starfish than before? Maybe around the bottom, where salt water had touched it. But even the ones he knew had popped off during their journey were back.
One small starfish waggled two armtips at him.
He shuddered. More starfish hadn’t appeared after they’d been swept off Shi’s seawall. Or after the many storms while they’d traveled along the coast to Noran. Surely it was his imagination. He’d worry about it another day.
He and Bess gathered greens and firewood, and he lit the rain-soaked green wood with a word. The fire smoked as bad as a volcano, but with any luck there was no one close by to see it.
Blast. The house the girls had tried to reach. If he’d been granted more luck than he usually had, whoever lit the lamp went to bed as soon as the wind died.
No point in fretting about it.
The chores of setting up camp kept him busy while the girls whaled on the tree. Chop, chop, chop chop. Drip, drip, drip. They’d all drown before they could take shelter from the rain.
Finally, finally, the clouds stopped peeing on them.
It took well over an hour, but by full daylight they got the pine cut into firewood.
Lorel brushed shredded bark out of her hair, scrambled into the wagon, carried her blasted monster out, and flopped beside the fire still hugging the beast. “Any chance of breakfast?”
“Fried greens in a minute.” Bess climbed down from the driver’s platform with a basket full of cooking gear.
Still picking pine needles off her clothes, Tsai’dona collapsed beside the fire. “Sounds good.”
Lorel wrinkled her nose.
The little monster licked her face enthusiastically.
He could do better than slobber on her. “Hold on while I check the snares.”
Lorel grinned and saluted him.
Kyri pushed its snout under the door. “This one recommends the hatching eschew future exertions toward pluviculture.”
Sandblast it. It wasn’t as if he’d planned to make it rain. He turned away and tramped around the edge of the meadow, collecting Lorel’s breakfast. His snares held six coneys.
Praise the Thunderer he’d caught so many. His turybird fed one directly to the sandblasted serdil.
Chapter 18.
At daylight, his scouts discovered they’d camped on a rutted path amply wide for the wagon. Unfortunately, it headed east instead of south.
Not a problem. He didn’t want to pay Na’s taxes, anyway. Rather than backtrack and hunt for a southern road, he’d go east and travel straight into Setoya, where the wielder of the broadsword must live. If they didn’t find someone there, they could head south to Kerov. As Lorel’s ancestry proved, some Kerovis were almost as tall as Setoyans.
But when he announced his plans, Lorel looked at him as if he’d spoken in Old Tongue again. “We’re headed to Zedista. Ain’t we?”
“We’ll get there eventually.” It didn’t matter where they went, as long as they found the last two quest companions and a wizard to bind the weapons to the four of them.
Tsai’dona punched his turybird in the ribs. Soggy-cloth-covered chainmail jangled, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. “Are you anxious to tell your parents you’re on a quest to destroy a Mindbender?”
Lorel’s mouth hung open, but words couldn’t worm their way out.
Bess hid a grin and turned away to finish breaking camp.
Viper snickered and strode away to harness the team. After searching
for twenty minutes, he hauled the harness straps out of the top trunk at the rear of the wagon. How had they gotten up there? He swore he’d stowed them in the bottom trunk. Lorel must be playing tricks on him again. Things wound up in the strangest places every time he didn’t pay attention.
∞∞∞
Nine days of traveling through marvelously gentle mountains (compared to the Dragon’s Eye Range, anyway) brought them to a town a passing farmer called Melad.
His bodyguards had disappeared – again – but unless a tavern was willing to extend credit to Lorel, they should be safe.
Bess sat beside him on the driver’s bench, placidly admiring the scenery.
Viper started to pull the team to a halt at the town’s western gate, but the Nashidran guards waved him through. No inspections? No taxes?
Bess contemplated the guards, and shrugged after the wagon had passed them all. “I’d heard more remote settlements are fortified less than the cities, but I’ve never seen a Nashidran town as relaxed as this one.”
It was a relief to hear he wasn’t imagining things.
The weather was cooler here than on the coast, but spring was in full bloom. Brilliant flowers blossomed in yards and window boxes. Rows of green sprouts promised vegetables later in the year.
Too bad they’d be stuck buying last fall’s dried fruit and withered turnips for journey fare. He added preserved food to his mental shopping list. He could sell empty jars to the tribes, along with the bolts of fabric and bottles of spices he’d bought in Shi. Maybe it was a good thing he was rather short: his bed was so crowded with trade items, Kyri had to sleep with half of its coils on top of the piles of broadcloth and linen.
Lorel and Tsai’dona cantered down the main road, heading toward them. They turned their horses and rode beside the driver’s seat, where they could speak more privately.
Those sandcrabs should have waited for him at the gate. No, they were supposed to ride back and escort him in. “Where have you been?”
Tsai’dona rolled her eyes and looked away.
Lorel shrugged. “We told them guards you was just a magician, and they promised to let you through.”
“She also promised you’d do a magic show for them.” Tsai’dona frowned at his tall turybird. “But she made you sound like the worst magician ever.”
“Praise the Thunderer.” It might help his nerves if his audience had low expectations. “When?”
“At dusk, near the main fountain.” Lorel grinned and thumped the evil gelding’s shoulder affectionately. “So we had to find the fountain. You’ll love this place, kid. It’s got bunches of little fountains and a big stream running right down the center of town.”
“Nearer the eastern gate than the center.” Tsai’dona gestured vaguely. “There’s several inns near the biggest fountain. I think it’s the city square.”
Bess leaned forward. “Did you see any other lodging? The places on the main square will be the most expensive.”
And have the liveliest taverns. He’d be hard put to keep Lorel out of trouble.
“Three blocks east I saw one that looked less fancy.” Tsai’dona glared at Lorel. “And it didn’t have a row of beer mugs in the window.”
His turybird shrugged and grinned. “Bet they have beer, anyhow. We found City Hall, kid, and they say you don’t need no permits for a magic show.”
How amazing, his turybird had planned ahead. Wait. No permits and no taxes? It couldn’t be right.
Bess laughed. “It means they’re desperate for entertainment.”
If they were desperate, they shouldn’t be too picky. And he could use magic here. It wouldn’t be too bad.
“Yeah, we oughta pull in big crowds.” Lorel rubbed her palms briskly. The evil gelding sidestepped until she patted its neck.
Blast. He wasn’t up to a huge audience. But he’d bought hundreds of little toys during their wanders in Shi, and collected hundreds of copper beggars to use as favors. As long as he could perform near the wagon, he could bribe the children into good behavior.
Tsai’dona led them to a respectable-looking inn on a quiet street.
The innkeeper strolled into the stableyard and offered decent terms. Regrettably, he wasn’t willing to haggle. It stole all the fun from the transaction.
Viper sighed and paid for two meals and a single night’s stay, plus two chickens for Lorel’s monster. “Don’t let the tall one drink all your beer.”
The innkeeper winked at him. “Beer and wine are extra.”
Lorel groaned. She dismounted and scowled at Viper. “You’re no fun.”
Bess and Tsai’dona laughed.
Viper shrugged and turned back to the innkeeper. “We’ll need the team and the wagon at dusk.” He frowned at his turybird. “Someone committed me to a performance at the main fountain tonight.”
The innkeeper grinned and tucked the coins into his pocket. “I’ll tell my grandchildren. My youngest son will take care of your horses. They look like they need a good feeding.”
A young man hardly older than Tsai’dona led the team and wagon into the stable. He came back and took the little mare’s reins, but the gelding backed away from him and pawed the ground. “Oh, one of those.” He glanced at Lorel. “Battle trained?”
Viper snorted. “No, merely bad tempered.” He’d paid too much for the beast, but not nearly enough for any sort of warhorse.
Lorel wound up grooming her evil gelding, but soon they were free to wander the town. “Hold on while I get Baby.” She hauled herself up to the driver’s bench, opened the door, and frowned. “Hey, kid?”
Blast. Had the wretched cub shredded her bedding again? Kyri had promised to keep a better eye on it. “What now?”
“The flute is on Tsai’s bed.”
Tsai’dona groaned. “I’m sleeping outside from now on.”
Empty threat. She and Lorel had slept outside on every dry night since they’d left Shi, leaving Bess to sleep on Lorel’s bunk.
The cub squirmed past Lorel and bounded to the ground. The monster shook itself, looked around, and squirted toward sunlight.
Viper and Tsai’dona dashed to the stable door and tried to block that escape route.
Lorel shouted, “Baby, you get back here!”
The not-so-little monster smacked against Viper’s thighs.
Down he went, flat on his back. Blast, that hurt. At least he didn’t land in horse manure this time.
The wicked cub straddled his shoulders and licked his face.
Serdil spit splattered into his eyes and dribbled down his neck. How disgusting. But since he kept his lips tightly sealed he couldn’t even complain about it.
Lorel tossed the flute to Bess, jumped down from the driver’s platform, and dragged the monster off him. “Baby! You know that’s rude.”
The stableman helped Viper up and handed him a horse-scented rag. “That’s the biggest puppy I’ve seen in years.”
How could anyone mistake a serdil for a puppy? It looked too much like a cat. Maybe the confusion was because the lightning-blasted creature was so tall.
Lorel hugged the monster to her chest and grinned.
Holding the huge flute awkwardly in one arm, Bess snatched away the horsy rag and handed him a clean handkerchief.
Praise the Thunderer for someone who understood the important things in life. He wiped spit off his face and wished for a large towel. Better yet, a bathtub. He’d ask the innkeeper about a proper bath later.
Tsai’dona tossed the stableman a silver coin and led the way to the street. She paused once they were out of earshot. “How do we find the flute’s owner?”
“How’d you manage to save up so much silver you can give it away?” Lorel set the drooling cub on its feet and pulled its leash out of her jacket pocket.
“It’s called tipping, turybird, and I should have done it.” And would have, if the slavering monster hadn’t distracted him. He passed a silver patron to Tsai’dona and took the flute from Bess, careful to keep its clawed
ends away from both of them. Blue dragons and white clouds seemed to float across its Hreshith-bone surface. “Any suggestions?”
Tsai’dona shrugged. “Listen for someone playing a flute?”
“Or I could go back for the seahorn and see if playing it attracts someone.” Bess straightened her perfectly-neat tunic. “I haven’t played it nearly enough.”
Lorel snickered and tugged on the cub’s leash. “Just every night.”
“Fingering it silently doesn’t count.” Bess looked down her nose at the twice-as-tall turybird. “I didn’t want to lead robbers to us.”
“That was why?” Lorel smacked her hand against her forehead. “You turtle turd. I was hoping robbers would come after us.”
Tsai’dona giggled, but looked away when both combatants glared at her.
Viper sighed. He’d had less trouble herding bahtdor. Lorel was a hopeless case, but gray-haired Bess ought to act more like a grownup. “The flute. Do we simply parade around town carrying it?”
All three women shrugged.
“It’s a place to start,” Tsai’dona said. “Let’s go look over the main square while we’re at it. You can decide where you want to park the wagon.”
“Good idea.” He slung the flute over his shoulder and marched down the street.
The slobbery cub delighted all of the children they passed. Bess mentioned the magic show to every new group. They’d have a gigantic audience, at this rate.
His stomach spiraled downward faster than a wing-wounded dragon.
He forced his chin up. There was no getting out of it. He may as well go along with the charade. After all, it was their excuse for traveling to places they shouldn’t go. Such as Setoya.
Setoya was going to be challenging. As much as he’d enjoy seeing his mother and sisters again, his father and older brother hated him. Felt he’d shamed them. It wasn’t his fault he was too short!
A redheaded girl squealed and pointed in his direction.
Lorel huffed and stepped in front of him. “Heads up, kid.”
Tsai’dona marched between him and the noisy girl.
A crowd of squealing teenage girls charged them. Black, blonde, and red hair swirled around their faces. Long, bell-shaped skirts tangled around their feet. They all appeared to be Lorel’s age or younger, fifteen at the most.
Alchemy's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 5) Page 25