Serpent's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 3)

by D J Salisbury

  “The road I wanted to take yesterday.” Viper glared at Lorel until she looked away. The silly sandcrab. “From now on we stay on the road.”

  Lorel shrugged and sauntered upstream to collect their abandoned gear.

  Continuing to stroke the Kyridon’s limp back, he turned to watch the flooding river. Could the water be going down? Didn’t matter, he wasn’t about to take the chance it would rise again. No way would Lorel talk him into walking back up that canyon. He was wet, miserable, and bruised all over.

  But they were all alive. They were all more or less mobile, even if he had only one crutch left. He was content with that.

  Chapter 5.

  They straggled into Leiya two days later. If she’d been by herself, Lorel could have gotten there in half a day. Even Tsai’dona, with her short little legs, could have walked those thirty miles in less than a day.

  The poor kid, on one crutch and one foot, only made it in two because he pushed himself too hard and passed out cold. She’d carried him the last ten miles. Between his baby-but-dead weight and all their gear thumping against her back, she was starting to get tired.

  Once he woke up, he made her put him down and tossed dirty looks at her fit to tie knots in the Weaver’s chapel’s bell-tower chain. She was still waiting for him to yell at her.

  But she knew how to fix that. “Ain’t that a bookstore, kid?”

  He perked right up, but slumped over onto his crutch again. “We need to get supplies, first.”

  Tsai’dona patted his shoulder. “We’ll scout out the town while you find something new to read.”

  Lorel fought down a snicker. Tsai knew the kid like a brother already. Of course, he’d whined enough before he got tired. She’d known he was wiped out when he quit moaning about books.

  Dark bruises swelled under his eyes. He’d gotten too skinny again. His honey-gold hair was a tangled mess. He looked like a starved, drowned, Verizi-spaniel puppy. She hoped she didn’t look that bad.

  At least the Kyri-thing agreed to wait outside of town. With that huge lump on its head, it wasn’t moving none too fast. Maybe the kid would liven up if the slithering toad wasn’t whispering into his ears.

  The kid swallowed and tried not to stare at the bookstore. He looked like he needed a hot meal and a warm bed lots more than he needed a book. But right now she needed to distract him.

  Lorel dug into her pack, wiggled her fingers into the kid’s purse, and pulled out a silver coin. She’d aimed for one of the bronze ones, but silver would do.

  She handed the coin to him. “We’ll meet you at noon at that tavern.” She pointed down the street at what looked like an old-ladies’ teashop. Should be a safe place to leave the kid. “That enough for a book and lunch?”

  He looked blankly at the silver in his hand. “One renani is enough for three books and lunch for all three of us.”

  “One book, kid.” Picking just one should keep him out of trouble for a while. She escorted him to the bookshop’s doorway and peered inside. No customers, no bully boys. It looked harmless enough. “If you’re not here or at the tavern at noon, I’m gonna tear this town apart.”

  He glared up at her. “I hear you, sandcrab.”

  That was better. Him acting all soggy worried her.

  He limped into the bookstore and paused to yak with the old man at the counter. The old man grinned like he’d found his long lost grandson.

  Yup, the kid would be fine.

  She turned to Tsai’dona. “He ain’t gonna be able to walk to whatever hole the slithering toad’s been chattering about. We gotta find horses.”

  Tsai nodded, but looked at her kinda sideways. “How much do you know about horses?”

  She knew how to clean stalls. She knew what to feed them. She knew how to clean their feet. She knew how to clean their tack, how to treat leather, how to polish brass. She more or less knew how to saddle a horse. She’d even ridden one a few times, on the sly. “Not as much as I want to.”

  Tsai looked up into her face and smiled slowly. “You’re telling me you don’t know crap.”

  Blood rushed into her cheeks. The girl knew her too well. “So we get quiet old nags.”

  “Likely that’s all we can afford.” Tsai led the way down the street. “I don’t know crap about horses either. They get sick too fast in the swamp. I hope you can talk like you know them. We probably should’ve brought Viper, though.”

  “Shuttle and Loom, no way. He’d want itty bitty ponies.”

  “He bargains better than both of us put together.”

  That was probably true. “We’ll just look for now, and bring him back to dicker the price down later. After we pick out the ones we want.”

  Tsai snorted.

  “He don’t know nothing about horses, either.”

  “Then we’re in deep trouble.”

  If it got her a horse of her own, she’d take on all the trouble this little half-penny town could give them.

  She sighed. If all she could get was a pony to haul the kid around, she’d take it and try not to complain.

  They strolled through town, asked a few questions, and ended up in front of a corral filled with eight horses.

  A pair of blue roans the size of Nashidran war horses waggled their ears at her. She’d sell all the kid’s books to own just one of them. She’d sell all her own gear, too, but she didn’t have nothing but her swords and an old battered harp. No way would she sell her swords, and the harp wasn’t worth giving away.

  Tsai poked her in the ribs. “They’re too big.”

  The girl knew her way too well. Lorel grinned and turned to the other horses. The prettiest was a young, long-legged black stallion who’d be exciting to ride, but a nuisance around the mares. A dangerous nuisance. Even she knew that much about stallions.

  The other five horses were short-legged, jug-faced mares. Old, ugly, and, she hoped, used to green riders. Those five were the ones they had to choose from.

  A grizzled, chubby old man walked between the horses, patting them as he went by, and leaned on the fence. “You get tired of walking, ladies? I got what you need, here.”

  “What you gonna charge for three quiet mares?”

  A single crutch tapped on the road behind her. “I’m not riding one of those monsters, turybird.”

  Blood in the Weave. He couldn’t’ve picked out a book that quick. She’d counted on having a done deal before she told him.

  Tsai grinned at the kid, and turned to face the old man. “Do you have a cart horse and a little wagon?”

  The merchant lit up like a child on New Year’s Day. “I have the perfect wagon for you.” He climbed over the corral railing and led them into the next yard over. “Here’s all the vehicles for sale in the whole town.”

  Two fraying vehicles. One was a delicate, two-wheeled lady’s gig that didn’t look like it would hold together on a cobblestone street, much less out in rough terrain.

  The other was an enormous, brightly-painted gypsy wagon. Weaver’s chamberpot, the thing was ugly. Red and gold bars marched across pukey-green siding. Red and white flowers on wooden scallops stuck out from the upper corners like baby-picture frames. The roof was as round as a magician’s slouch hat, and a crooked pipe poked out of one side.

  The kid stared at the gaudy wagon with his mouth hanging open, but she could tell he was trying to keep his face blank. Did he really like the horrid thing?

  It wouldn’t last long in the wilderness the kid had described. She prayed she could talk him out of buying it.

  “It’s thread-fraying ugly.” She paced around the wagon, measuring it. “And it’s huge. It’ll take a team of six to pull it.”

  “No, no, beautiful lady,” the Leiyan merchant cooed. All three of them looked at him sideways, and he continued hurriedly. “It’s only twelve by seven, it just looks bigger. Two horses can draw it easily. Look how sound it is.” He pounded on the puke-green siding and was rewarded by a series of dead thuds. “Solid teak. This wagon will last for
hundreds of years.”

  “It can’t possibly be teak,” the kid muttered.

  “Weaver’s fraying threads, I hope not. It don’t need to last more’n a couple of years. Show us a cheaper one.” Please let him have smaller cart hidden away. Otherwise she was stuck with this monstrosity.

  The chubby old man deflated, but his eyes fastened on her swords. “Wood like this could stop a siege of bandits.”

  Tsai’dona rolled her eyes.

  Lorel turned to examine the wagon more closely. Would they be lucky enough to run into bandits? Maybe she could stash the kid inside and have a real battle.

  The kid looked up at her with panic on his face. He flicked his fingers at the thread-fraying wagon. “We don’t need this one. Any solid wood will stop a sword.”

  Lorel nodded thoughtfully. Not many wagons could hold out during a siege, though. But it was still too big.

  The old man looked down his nose at the kid, and his voice got cool. “I believe I was bargaining with the lady, child.”

  “You thought wrong, then.” The kid stood up straight and as stiff as newly-starched linen. “I’m not a child. You’re bargaining with all three of us, but I want a wagon more than they do. If you can’t convince us all, we’ll go on to the next town.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir. No offense meant.” The old man bowed slightly.

  The kid’s face flushed bright red, but he didn’t say anything.

  Lorel sighed and shook her head. Now she knew exactly how much he wanted the thread-snipping wagon. The kid usually frayed all over people who insulted him like that.

  The merchant turned away and strolled toward the front wheels. “Let me show you its finer points.”

  No finer points needed to sell the kid on this overgrown wheelbarrow. But the old rat was in for a fierce bargaining session. She ain’t never seen the kid that pissed before. At least, not since they left the swamp.

  “Note the shuttered windows, barred from the inside. Three large trunks attached to the rear for proper storage of supplies that either don’t need the security of the inside, or are more convenient when kept in easy reach.”

  Lorel nodded agreeably. The black trunks were the only dignified part of the whole clownish setup.

  The kid elbowed her hip and glared up at her. “You’ll never learn how to bargain properly,” he growled.

  Like she cared. She always got whatever she wanted in the end.

  “The rounded roof will prevent snow buildup, and allows for more headroom.” The Leiyan glanced up at her.

  She needed all the headroom she could get. But the miswoven cart was just too big to be useful.

  “The only door is behind the driver’s bench. Let me hop in and open the windows to let in some light.” The merchant climbed nimbly up to the high bench, lifted up the door – it took up most of the front of the wagon – and propped it up with chains so it acted like a sunshade. He clambered inside the wagon.

  “That vulture’s spawn isn’t as old as he looks,” the kid whispered. “He plans to milk us for everything we own. Try and remember two things, will you?”

  “What’s that, kid?”

  “First, our money won’t last forever. We only have so much to spend on any wagon.” The windows swung open, and he hissed, “Second, it’s ugly.”

  She laughed and tousled his hair, snarling the honey-colored mop over his face. “I hear you, kid.”

  The kid pushed the hair out of his eyes and glared at her.

  “Come in, dear friends,” the old man called.

  Tsai snorted. “If we’re dear friends, I’d hate to meet his relatives.”

  Lorel snickered. “Think they all got two heads?”

  The kid sighed. “You are so rude.”

  Kid had no sense of humor. She shrugged at him, grabbed him around the waist, and lifted him up to the driver’s bench. “We’ll have to get steps built if we buy this one,” she said loudly, and winked at him.

  He sorta smiled at her, but his face was sour. “I really can get up here by myself, you know.”

  On one foot and one short little leg? But she shouldn’t make short jokes, not even to get a better price. She promised she wouldn’t on the day they met.

  The kid wriggled across the bench and poked his head through the wide doorway. “Thunder and lightning.” He crawled all the way inside.

  She swung in behind him. “Weaver’s chamberpot.” She tried to stand upright and promptly bumped her head on the ceiling. “This ain’t a wagon, it’s a fraying mansion.”

  Warm mahogany and gleaming brass glowed just like the musical instruments her family was famous for making. Soft leather and calm blue silks covered all the other surfaces. Somebody had put a lot of time and care into the place.

  Tsai crawled in behind them, and sat on the bench with her mouth hanging open. “This is fancier than the dean’s office back at school.”

  The Leiyan rolled his eyes in exaggerated despair.

  A pair of bunks filled the back wall, one above the other. Shelves lined the walls on either side of the beds. In center of the left wall was a potbellied stove. The cold-blooded kid would enjoy that.

  A second padded trunk doubled as a chair and even had a padded backrest with a hidden cupboard behind it. Cabinets and empty hooks lined the rest of the walls.

  “The Kyridon will love this wagon,” the kid muttered. “It’s certainly as weary of walking as I am.”

  “Slithering,” Tsai said. “Since it doesn’t have feet.”

  The Leiyan looked like he wanted to ask a question, but bit his tongue instead.

  “This stinking midden will fall apart at the first pothole we hit.” Lorel kicked halfheartedly at the trunk, but she was careful not to mar the fancy wood. “Rich man’s crap.”

  The kid chuckled, still staring about the room like he’d finally found home. And the little chunk of Loom lint had the nerve to scold her about giving away their bargaining position.

  The large trunk Tsai was sitting on acted as a step down from the driver’s bench, but it was big enough for her to stretch out and sleep on. That made three beds. They’d actually fit in this thing, if they could get rid of the slithering wiggler.

  The kid sighed loudly and made sad-puppy eyes at the old man. “We couldn’t possibly afford this. Why did you even bother to show it to us?”

  “Successful travelers like yourselves… I’m certain we’ll come to an agreement. You can afford fifty kinseni in Dureme-Lor gold.”

  “No.” She was pretty sure the kid didn’t have fifty gold coins. She wouldn’t let him spend that much if he did. He could ride a horse like a normal person.

  But she was betting they both just wanted the fun of bargaining. The old man would regret that. The kid was crankier than Mom’s cats when her brothers drank all the milk and blew creamy breath at their whiskers.

  She crawled past Tsai, out through the low doorway, and sat on the driver’s bench to watch the show.

  The kid stared at the old man like he was waiting for something.

  “I like you people. I’ll drop the price to forty kinseni.”

  The kid leaned against a shelf and shook his head.

  “Thirty?” The Leiyan moved toward the door like he planned to follow her. Hadn’t he figured out yet who paid the bills?

  Tsai scooted out of the way. Smart girl.

  The kid blocked the doorway with his crutch. “What’s wrong with it?”

  The merchant hesitated, but threw up his hands when both she and Tsai glared a threat. “It’s haunted. Last carnival an old magician drove it into town and that night he died in here. Just didn’t wake up. We don’t even know his name. But his spirit stayed even after we took the body away, and some folk say it talks at night.”

  The kid blinked and rocked back against the wall. His crutch slowly lowered to his side.

  Tsai looked pretty worried, but there ain’t no such thing as ghosts, for all the kid’s wild stories. They were safe from that problem.

&n
bsp; The old man crossed his arms over his chest. “I bought the rights to sell his wagon before we knew it was haunted, and now nobody will buy it.”

  The kid glared at the man like he wanted to strangle him. “I’ll give you fifteen for it.”

  “Twenty five!”

  “Twenty if you throw in the team.”

  The old man shrugged. “Might as well. I haven’t managed to sell them either. Those lava-spewing horses look too much like warhorses, and they act wild, too.”

  Maybe those big roans really were Nashidran warhorses. What a steal!

  “I want them horses! You got a deal. Pay him, kid, and tell me how much I can spend on two more horses.”

  The kid gusted out a sigh. “Hand over my pouch.”

  She dug into her pack for it, and he counted out the coins. Without whining, even. She’d be lucky if she ever pried him out of this donkey cart ever again. Just her luck he’d buy a magician’s wagon all full of empty bookshelves.

  At least she wouldn’t have to carry his books no more.

  ***

  The team proved to be a pair of massive blue-gray creatures, a mare and a gelding. Viper had never seen horses that big in his life. No wonder Lorel coveted them.

  Much to his amazement, she bargained so well she managed to get two horses, a short, elderly, red-spotted gray mare and a tall, young-looking black stallion, plus their riding gear, for three of the four silver coins he had given her. He almost got the feeling the merchant wanted to get rid of her. The old man harnessed the team, saddled the riding horses, and tottered away the moment he was paid.

  Lorel bounced on her toes like a nercat kitten preparing to pounce on a dragonfly. “The colt is green broke, but he’s a sweet-natured lad.”

  He wasn’t sure what ‘green broke’ meant. Partially trained, he thought, but what use was an untrained horse?

  Tsai’dona looked resigned. “The mare should be able to teach all of us everything we need to know.”

  Lorel kicked the girl’s ankle. “Hush up. The team ain’t saddle broke at all. Won’t let nobody ride them. But they don’t fuss over the harness. I figure they’re gentle enough. Even for you.”