“It stinks like shit in here,” Puk whispered conspiratorially.
“It’s the general smell of sick combined with all the blood and pus and whatever else everyone is leaking, myself included.”
“No, I think someone actually shit themselves. Look at that guy movin’ around in his seat a bunch over there.” He pointed at a particularly uncomfortable-looking rocyan whose torso had been wrapped in bandages while he waited for an available mage. “I think he shit himself.”
Kali snorted, trying not to draw attention to herself, and said, “Or—and this is just a theory—or his side just hurts and he’s uncomfortable. It looks like he got stabbed or shot.”
“Nah, he’s got a shitty diaper.”
They both laughed at this and continued to wait. Puk told Kali about his coin ploy against Thom, which elicited barking laughter from her that made her head ache even more. He then went on to describe how he’d acted mournful to lull Thom into a false sense of security, and she was admittedly impressed. Only a little, though.
Several patients were seen to before her, including the rocyan that Puk had declared a pants-shitter, and she was finally called back nearly an hour after first checking in.
The white mage tending to her was a young jeornish man who had to be only a few years out of the academy. Kali couldn’t help but wonder what unfortunate circumstances landed him here in Myrisih rather than a prestigious, legitimate clinic in one of the major cities.
Kali sat across from him while Puk hunkered down in a rickety chair set up in the corner. The mage introduced himself as Dahvi and promptly got to work examining the cut on her head, graciously given to her by the grotto’s stone steps.
“An easy fix,” he promised her with a charming smile. “The bleeding already stopped on its own, so that’s good. Are you feeling light-headed at all?” His voice was smooth and surprisingly deep.
“No, but this headache is going to kill me,” she replied.
Dahvi chuckled. “That’s to be expected. A headache isn’t great, but it doesn’t appear you have a concussion, especially if you were passed out earlier. I think this injury looks worse than it actually was.”
In his corner, Puk sighed with relief. It warmed Kali’s heart a little to know that the qarm was so concerned about her, despite having thrown her limp body to the side to stab their attacker. Though that image nearly made her laugh in Dahvi’s face.
“Let me just clear away the blood and patch you up, then you’ll be good to go.”
Dahvi set to gesturing with his hands, casting a spell to seal the minor wound in her head. Ancient Ustrel symbols sketched themselves into the tops of his hands as he cast his magic, signs that would slowly fade away over the course of a few hours. Ustrel symbols that were associated with other spells were still faintly visible on parts of his hands and forearms, acting as a physical record of the spells he’d used to treat patients that day which would dissipate in a few hours’ time.
As the fresh symbols began glowing, the cut in Kali’s head grew itchier. In her youth, she had gotten into some scuffles and landed herself in a mage’s clinic a number of times, so she knew the wound was stitching itself back together at an accelerated pace. It didn’t hurt, necessarily, but it wasn’t a wholly pleasant feeling.
It was a relief when the itching finally stopped and Dahvi lowered his hands. The symbols no longer shone.
With the wound successfully healed, Dahvi wet a cloth and wiped away the blood that already dried to a crust against her scalp and in her hair. He made a lighthearted comment about how difficult it was to find the bits of dried blood camouflaged amongst her crimson-red locks.
They thanked Dahvi, and on their way out of the office Puk asked him, “Hey, did that rocyan earlier shit himself?”
Dahvi, to his credit, remained stone-faced. “Doctor-patient confidentiality,” was his only response.
“Bastard,” Puk muttered sourly as they paid for the mage’s services back out in the lobby. They marched past the sordid souls awaiting treatment and Kali grumbled about the unexpected expense.
She still had roughly three hundred crescents in her bank savings, but that was back in Seroo’s Eye. And that was not a considerable amount of money by anyone’s measure. They had spent half the money she’d withdrawn on this voyage, a bit more than she had estimated, and they were now down to about one hundred and fifty crescents.
They weren’t in any trouble quite yet, but now more than ever she needed those five thousand crescents from tracking down Kleus Saix and his much-wanted book.
They hastily scampered back to the inn. Kali’s headache probably wouldn’t recede for the rest of the day, but aside from that she felt fine. She was exhausted, though, in spite of it only being early afternoon.
Relaxing in their separate beds, Kali gingerly laid her head down on the pillow. It wasn’t as soft as the ones her father sprung for, but it was comfier than it had any right to be. The puke-green paint coating the walls would’ve made her mother shudder.
She said to Puk, “We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“Agreed,” Puk nodded, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets. “I want that money.”
“It’s not just that,” she said, though it was a hefty motivator. “Haratti said they already sent someone out looking for the book. They haven’t come back yet, but it’s possible they found it or are close, so we need to beat them to the punch. And not to mention fucking Thom.”
“Thom sucks.”
“Yes, I agree with that. That’s my point: whoever Thom’s working for is obviously well-connected here in town, just like Haratti’s boss. And they’re all dangerous. We need to get out of here before Thom’s boss sends another crony after us. I know you’re feeling cocky after dealing with him, but really we just got lucky.”
“I think you’re underestimating us,” said Puk.
“I literally didn’t even do anything in the fight. I got knocked down the stairs immediately and blacked out.”
“Okay, well, then you’re underestimating me,” the qarm grinned.
Kali sneered. “Be that as it may, it’s in our best interests to get out of Myrisih as soon as we can, and ideally undetected. I can’t imagine Thom’s crew knows where we’re staying, but they’re surely still looking for us. And I can promise you Thom is pissed after how you tore up his leg.”
“The Mighty Puk strikes again.”
“Mighty indeed. The ports open up again tonight, right?” Puk affirmed, and she went on. “Then let’s find Zenib and get out of here as soon as they’re open. Agreed?”
“Sure,” said Puk. “Won’t be for a few hours, though. We’ll need some dinner beforehand. My tum’s feelin’ a bit glum, now that I think about it.”
“I don’t need anything,” Kali said. She would eat something when they got to Weynard in a few days. She hoped the village had some high quality bakeries.
“Alright, you can stay here and get some rest. I’ll go grab grub and Zenib. Hey, and he’s kinda like a grub. Is that funny?” Kali confirmed that it was trite. Puk said, “Okay, well, we’ll come get you when it’s closer to the ports opening.”
They agreed on the plan, but Kali said, “Be sure to keep a low profile, and be on the lookout for Thom. Not sure if he’s the only one who knows what we look like, but he might’ve told others. Just…be careful.”
“I will,” said Puk, and then he disappeared out the door and onto the city streets.
It felt like her brain was slamming its fist against her skull as she lay in bed, but thankfully, the pain was not as unbearable as it had been before Dahvi’s spell.
Puk’s words about her underestimating them echoed in her head. It was true that she was incapacitated pretty quickly, but she proved her formidability when faced with Jeth’s botched robbery at the travelers’ outpost. And now Puk had shown that, while his methods were incredibly unorthodox, he could hold his own in a scrap as well.
Kali’s doubt brought Lissia to mind again
, and the self-imposed question of why she always compared her own accomplishments—or lack thereof—to her sister’s. She had spent her entire life underestimating herself. Caught in a loop.
Maybe it was high time to break the cycle.
CHAPTER XIV
JUICE FIRST
Zenib had more than a few associates around the city who assisted the duo in making sure they reached the port undetected by Thom or anyone else from his crew. When Kali and Puk described the man who attacked them, Zenib immediately recognized who they were talking about and the people he ran with.
“Nasty group,” he told them. “Their boss is a woman called Brinn Natalja. You ever heard of Frederick Feiri?”
Kali shook her head, but Puk nodded and said, “The Flame.”
The centript confirmed. “Well, the story goes that Brinn was sold to him as a young girl, and he was planning to sell her to some old Gillusian pervert or something, I don’t remember. Point is, before it ever got to that, she murdered him. One of the most notorious gangsters on the continent, and some eleven-year-old girl cut off his prick and stabbed him in the neck. She’s only gotten more ferocious with time.”
Puk let out a low whistle.
“So long story short is that she’s dangerous,” said Kali.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
An hour later, they were loaded up onto the Fiery Lass with no trouble while Zenib talked to the portmaster. Puk was at the head of the ship, watching calm waves rock the tiny boat, while Kali stuffed her bag down by her feet. Soon Zenib scuttled into the vessel, sighing contentedly.
“Ready to push off?” he asked them. They nodded.
Kali noticed the centript wince as he used ones of the oars to push the boat away from the dock and began rowing. “Are you alright?” she asked him.
He shrugged it off. “Just the mold,” he said, as if it were nothing to worry about at all. As if he hadn’t already lost multiple pieces of his carapace and three arms. It seemed a fourth would be soon to follow.
She hesitated at first, but decided to ask, “What does it feel like when it starts to…” She searched for the right verb, something not overly inappropriate, but came up short. The affliction was so foreign to her, she couldn’t comprehend the right words to describe it.
They slowly coursed through the canal, heading out to the sea. Their boat was one of perhaps half a dozen that had already disembarked. Everyone else was content to wait and leave in the morning.
Zenib answered, “It’s an odd sensation. Not totally unpleasant at first. It’s like…maybe the closest comparison is feeling your muscles relax. It’s soothing. But then it turns into a light tingle, and then that turns into a burning sensation, which don’t really stop. That’s where I’m at right now, here.” He pointed his head toward the body segment his rowing arms jutted out from. “It was only the tingle when we got here. The process seems to be speeding up.”
Doesn’t that worry you? she almost asked, but held her tongue. She didn’t want to pry further or cause him to freak out.
“Near the end, it’s like a pulsing. Basically the opposite of the muscle relaxing part. Your body part starts to feel like it’s getting bigger and smaller and bigger and smaller like it’s your heartbeat or somethin’, until it finally just pops. Literally. Pus oozing out, the shell falling off, everything’s discolored. It’s a damn mess.”
Kali had a basic understanding of the disease, but hearing Zenib describe it first-hand was horrifying. “That sounds so painful,” she said, chilled.
Zenib laughed, a piercing clacking sound. “No shit it’s painful,” he then said.
She began, “How long until…”
“Until I’m a pussed-up mess?”
“I wasn’t gonna put it that way, but yes,” she said, surprised by his frankness. It genuinely did not seem like a big deal to him. Maybe after a few months living with the disease it was now, unfortunately, just an immutable fact of life.
He considered the question a moment, then replied, “Only a few days, I think. Especially if it’s speeding up. Next time you two see me, I’ll be a bit lighter, I suspect.”
“You could stand to lose the weight,” Puk chimed in from the front of the boat, not bothering to turn around. Zenib laughed at the jibe.
She found herself asking after all, “Doesn’t that worry you? That the process is getting faster?”
“It’s not great,” Zenib said, “but I’ll worry when it gets to my head. Until then, I’ve got money to make and money to spend.”
Kali shuddered. Her own head injury from earlier was bad enough; she could scarcely imagine her skull exploding into a wet, grotesque mess.
That effectively ended the conversation. She dipped her hand into the water as they glided through. It was ice cold, but soothed her spirit after a rough twenty-four hours. She was trying to be more confident in herself, in her abilities, in their capability of pulling off Haratti’s job, but she was still shaken by the brawl with Thom.
Never before had she been so close to death, and for what? A few thousand crescents?
Eventually they came to the massive iron gate that blocked Myrisih off from the rest of the world. The guards were still mired in the process of raising it, and all six ships now bobbed in the water, waiting to be granted passage.
She watched the blackened metal rise, cold water dripping from its edges as it disappeared halfway into a thick carved-out slit in the cavern’s ceiling, surrounded by stalactites. Kali was glad to be leaving the mysterious, shadowy city. It had been an exhilarating experience walking its streets and learning more about it, but she could not say that her time there was something she’d fondly revisit in her memories. She wished it wasn’t necessary for them to return once they acquired the book, but alas.
The gate came to a creaking halt, and the first ship in line slowly inched forward, further into the tunnels. There were still a few twists and turns before they would reach the mouth of the cavern and the open seas.
The Fiery Lass followed, and Kali kept her hand trailing through the water while they were still within the safe, calm waters of the Myrisih tunnel system. She would retract it once they emerged into the Loranos Gulf.
A nap also sounded pretty good; she caught a little bit of sleep at the inn while Puk was out eating dinner and finding Zenib, but she was still pretty exhausted.
For now, though, she let the coolness flow from her fingertips up her arm, through her body, allowing her thoughts to get lost in it. Aimlessly swimming. She breathed in deep, cold air, and let it out slowly.
With her headache throbbing, she imagined her skull bursting.
- -
Zenib and Puk awkwardly clambered out of the boat, with Kali already on the shore ahead of them. It was obvious that she did not let herself relax until she had finally set foot on solid ground again. She was on edge for the entirety of their last hours spent in Myrisih, and Puk didn’t want to admit to her that he’d felt the same way.
There were no boats on the horizon, nobody following them. They were safe.
For now.
He felt his muscles relax as he stumbled through the dirt. Zenib singlehandedly tugged the boat onto dry land and hid it away once more in his hiding spot between the shore’s two large red boulders. A little obvious, in Puk’s estimation, but he figured the centript knew how trafficked the beach was better than he did.
The rest of their short stay in Restick was unremarkable.
After they all scrambled over the perimeter wall again, their guide returned to his home in Nyek Hollow to await their triumphant return with Malum in hand. Puk and Kali reluctantly disturbed Eva late at night (they had wanted to stay in an inn, but after the mage clinic costs, decided they should save the money), but she was still awake and welcomed them inside. They chatted a bit—with the woman pressing Kali for details about her “work trip,” questions that she had to dodge—before retiring for bed. The next day, they filled up their waterskins at the house and restocked on travel supplie
s before heading to the stables to fetch Bella.
The ayote was happy to see them both, which Puk had not expected. He’d never been great with animals and always defaulted to thinking they despised him. He giggled when Bella affectionately nuzzled her rat-like snout in between his eyestalks. Her skin was rough, almost scaly, and warmed by the sun. Her ears flicked with delight.
Leaving the city limits was a reminder of how much he hated the desert.
We better find that damned book good and quick.
The sun beat down on the two of them bouncing along on Bella’s back. Despite the loose, thin fabric of his clothing, Puk was already sweating bullets, making his rubbery skin even more moist than usual. He felt disgusting.
When he acquired his money and lugged his ass back to Atlua, the first thing he wanted to do was find a natural spring and a lengthy massage. He was more than ready to exchange the endless expanse of sand for that of forest. Never did he think he would miss greenery so much, but now found himself oddly craving a salad.
They headed south out of Restick, at first following the Ribroad but soon veering off into the sea of sand. Kali appeared confident in where they were going, and he trusted her sense of direction.
Spit and Song (Ustlian Tales Book 2) Page 29
