“Fear magic?”
“No. No magic there. It is natural to fear Zerika.”
I nodded.
“Copper Thoughts steals souls,” I said quietly.
She stared at me.
“Copper Thoughts is very mighty now, he does mighty magics. How much magic would it take to bend horses to Humans? Or to defeat Vampires? Or to set a handful of Horsemen atop the Human kingdom?”
“What is this about?” she asked.
“You know Mermaids?” I asked.
“I’ve never seen one.” She nodded though. “But I’ve heard of them. Holy children to the Selk. There is great magic in them, and no evil, unlike...”
Unlike the Arukh. No magic to us, but great evil. She didn’t have to finish it.
“Someone killed a Mermaid,” I told her.
Her eyes widened.
“This should not be done,” I said intensely. “Perhaps it was Arukh, perhaps it was not. But I will find the one.”
“If it is Copper Thoughts, then he will be mighty past reckoning,” she whispered. “All the magic of a Mermaid, added to his own.”
I nodded.
“You cannot kill him.”
I shrugged, and looked out the door.
“I cannot help you,” she said pushing back the coin to me, “even if I wanted to.”
“Would you want to?”
“If I could, perhaps.”
“But you cannot,” I said. I grinned humourlessly showing her my fangs. “Do you fear Copper Thoughts?”
“Yes.”
“More than me?”
She nodded.
I chuckled and pushed the coin back.
“Keep the gold. If he is as powerful as you say, I’ll have no use for it.”
She stared at the coin and licked her lips.
“Are we done?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“What sort of magic do you do?”
She shrugged. “Healing magics, mostly Goblin and Human, a bit of Vampire, little bits of others. Herbal magics, potions. Sex magic of course.”
Changeling.
“Of course.”
Raised among Goblins.
“Are changelings barren?” I asked.
“I have six children alive.”
“You are a mother,” I bowed my head. “That is very potent.”
“Two human, four Hobgoblin.”
“Arukh are barren,” I said. “They are born, they die. There is nothing else.”
“Yes,” she nodded gravely. “It is good.”
Unspoken words hung between us.
“Ahh,” I said finally, “Arrah, it was just a thought.”
I rolled her words over in my mind, as I left her behind. Was this magic at work? Death magic? Fear magic? The Mermaids were holy creatures. What was their magic? Perhaps I needed to return.
“What does Arukh mean?”
I sat on the dock again. The Mermaids were gathered in the water around me. I wasn’t sure which of them had asked.
“It is a word of the goblins. It means abomination. Abomination in the eyes of God.”
“Which God?”
“All of them.”
“The Elders call you Arash Is that the same thing?”
“We are the same in every tongue, to every race that knows us. For the Vampires, Rughk; for the Dwarves, Hagrik; for the humans, Orc.”
I listened to them trying each pronunciation.
“Where do Orc come from?” the Mermaid asked, carefully enunciating the trade speech accents.
I thought about it.
“From Vampires and Goblins.”
“But where?”
“Arrah,” I said. “There are many stories. I have heard from Humans, that Arukh are hatched from eggs buried in cattle dung.”
“Really?” they asked, eyes wide. “What sort of eggs?”
“Of this I do not know.”
“Did you come from an egg in cattle dung?”
“I remember cattle dung, but no egg. Perhaps it is so long ago that I have forgotten.”
Their eyes sparkled. I continued.
“There are other stories. Vampires say that Arukh are tumours from inside the body that swell up and eventually drop away. For this reason, they say we are not truly born, but rather shed,” I told them.
“Once,” one of them said excitedly, “a Goblin came and told us stories. She told us a story about Ara, the mother of Orcs.”
“Would you like to hear it?” another asked.
“I’ve heard Goblin stories,” I replied curtly. In the markets, you could hear the stories of any race for pieces of copper.
“Yes,” another said excitedly, “tell the Goblin’s story.”
Suddenly there was a chorus of voices calling for the Goblin’s story, like eager children.
A Mermaid swam forward, into the centre of them, cleared his throat and began to speak.
“The Goblins say that the first being to exist was the Mother.
“For a long time, there was the Mother and nothing else. Finally, the Mother crouched and shit and shit and shit, and the land came forth, soft lands and hard lands, mountains and valleys. The land spread out around the mother. Then she pissed, and from her pee came the rivers and seas. She breathed out and made the sky, and farted, and made stars. From her spit came rain.
“She sat in her dark silent world and was happy. Then she felt a burning in her chest. It went on and on and finally she coughed and burped and out came the sun. She set it high in the sky where it would do no harm. Later, she burped again, and out came the moon. She felt much better.
“The light from the sun and the moon let the mother see the world she had made. She saw it was beautiful, but it was empty. After a time, she grew lonely.
“So she squatted down again, and from her loins came the plants and animals of all sorts. Came trees and grasses, came insects and flowers, fishes, and things that flew and crawl and ran.
“And for a time, she was happy again, as the things she had called from her womb spread across the world. Everything was thickest and most beautiful where she was, but life spread and spread, until it covered everything.”
“This is not how the Elders tell us the world was made,” a different Mermaid burst out to inform us.
“No,” they agreed bravely, “the Elders stories are different.”
“Which story is true, do you think?” the Mermaid asked me.
I thought about it and shrugged finally.
“There are many stories. Perhaps they are all true. It’s a big world,” I replied.
“What stories do Arash tell?”
“We have no stories.”
“No stories?” a Mermaid asked incredulously.
“None.”
They absorbed this.
“That’s very sad. What do you do without stories?”
“We don’t need them,” I told her.
“Oh,” she said, “I see.”
But the way she said it meant she didn’t understand at all.
It seemed to disturb them.
“We listen to Goblin stories,” I said finally.
“Goblins tell good stories,” one said. The one who’d been telling the Goblin tale cleared his throat loudly, slapping the water with his hands for attention.
They quieted and faced him.
“Then the Mother grew lonely again,” he continued. “She thought upon her loneliness.”
“I will make beings like myself, she thought to herself, to amuse me. And so she squatted again, and made the little Mother. She drew from her womb Clever Girl, and Burrowing Male, and Serving Male and Hunter Male. Finally she expelled from her womb Totzakl, the first hobgoblin.
“It was the end of the even
ing, and dawn rose as she birthed Totzakl. A fragment of the sun struck her eye, burning her, and so she made Totzakl badly, so that he was born with three testicles.
“For a time, there was peace. The Mother and her children lived happily in the world.
“The children went out, and discovered the many things in the world, and because they had a part of the Mother’s fecundity in them, they laid with what they found, and made more life.
“Burrowing Male made a woman of snow, and cast his seed into it. The heat of the seed melted the snow even as it gave it life, and Dwarves were made.
“Serving Male found a birch tree with a knothole in it. He put his seed in there, and the giants were born.
“Hunter Male found his way onto the grasslands. He found a great beast there, and entranced by its size and power, he put his seed in it. From its womb came a she-child who suckled at the beast, and when it’s milk gave out, she suckled its blood. This was Suckling Child, who was the most beautiful of all the children.
“So were all the different beasts and peoples created.
“Now, days upon nights passed, and it came to be that the Totzakl was expelled from the Mother’s nest one day, for farting the four winds. He wandered far until he came to the Suckling Child. He had never seen anything so beautiful, and so he laid with her.
“From the suckling child’s womb came the Ara.
“’Ara,’ the infant said, ‘I am new born. Who will care for me?’
“The suckling child, though full grown, was but a child, and so she ran from it. For children cannot care for children.
“Ara, the infant, said to the great beast which was the Suckling Child’s mother: ‘Who will care for me?’
“’I have room only for one child at my teat,’ the great beast said.
“The infant wandered through the world, seeking one who would care for it. It came upon the Totzakl, who had killed for the first time and was eating meat.
“’Will you care for me?’ the infant cried.
“Totzakl said no. But the infant cried and cried. To distract it, Totzakl threw it some meat, and ran away with his prize. Although he did later overcome his selfishness and share it with his brothers and sisters and their mother, and so they had the feast of sharing.
“The infant ate the meat of spite, and wandered, knowing no other lesson than the eating of whatever beast she came across. No one had shown the Ara to eat plants or the many good things that the Mother had birthed.
“The Ara wandered in the darkness, and finally, the Ara came upon the Hunter Male.
“’What are you?’ The Hunter Male asked.
“’Ara’ the infant, that was no longer an infant said, ‘I am hungry!’
“And she fell upon the hunter male.
“The Hunter Male called loudly for his brothers and sisters and together they drove the Ara off. Hurting it. But the Hunter Male was sore wounded by the Ara and the wounds would not heal.
“The Ara was wounded herself, she bled and howled and made much mischief all around. Where her blood fell, the earth was poisoned. She destroyed where she went, and her cries hurt all who listened.
“Finally, the Mother called her children and said, this must be ended. She looked at the things made by her children and she found it was not good.
“This world, once so empty, was now too crowded. Beings of every sort walked and fought with each other, and made more beings of every sort.
“’An end to it,’ the Mother said, ‘from this day forth, each being could only produce beings like itself.’
“All obeyed the Mother, except Totzakl and the Ara who laid together and made monsters of all sorts. From the union came common monsters, the long eared cats, the wolves and lions, the taloned birds. And special monsters, like the hungry fish that ate the sun.
“Finally, the Clever Girl said, ‘If the Ara will not obey the Mother and cleave to its own self, then it shall issue forth no more.’
“The Clever Girl went to the Ara as it slept, and the Clever Girl took a sharp stick and smeared it with excrement, and pierced the Ara’s womb.
“The Ara screamed and woke. But Clever Girl had already hidden, and watched from concealment.
“’Who has done this thing?’ the Ara cried, bleeding from between its legs.
“All the great monsters that it had made came and gathered around it. The smelled the blood between it’s legs, and they gave forth a wailing, for the womb of the Ara was poisoned, and no more progeny would issue forth.
“The Ara went to the great pool from which all streams flowed at that time, crying in pain, and waded in, so that the cold waters of the pool would sooth her injured part. The blood from her wound entered the pool, filling it.
“All the great monsters who had come to the pool with the Ara and drank from it were thus rendered sterile. Only the lesser monsters, afraid to come near, remained fecund.
“The monsters caught the Clever Girl, they brought her to the Ara.
“’You have done this to me?’ the Ara cried, seizing her and holding her high to rend her limb from limb.
“But the Clever Girl wriggled from the Ara’s grasp and fell into the pool. The Ara and the monsters tried to catch her again, but she was so slick with the blood of the Ara that was in the pool, that they could not lay a hand on her. She slipped past them and fled down a stream.
“But, because the Clever Girl had been bathed in the tainted blood of the Ara, she could no longer bear children. This is true to this day.
“The tainted blood of the Ara flowed down the stream with the clever girl, poisoning it. Every female that drank from the stream was thus poisoned, but the poison was so thinned by its travel in the stream that females would only bleed from time to time.
“This is why women bleed with the turning of the moon.
“The Ara came to the nest, its steps like thunder.
“Coming upon hunter male, the Ara attacked him, wounding him sore and unto death. The cries of the hunter male brought the other children of the mother, who pulled him from the clutches of the Ara.
“It came before the nest and shouted out to all who could hear, ‘I am come to eat you up, each one of you.’
“Totzakl on hearing this became afraid and fled to the bottom of the nest.
“The other children gathered around the mother and asked ‘What shall we do? What shall we do? Even now, the Ara digs at the nest.’
“Above them, they could hear the sounds of the Ara digging. They could hear its howls and threats.”
“No,” I whispered softly, but they did not hear. The story went on.
“Finally, the Mother spoke. ‘The Ara knows no peace. The Ara brings ruin wherever it goes. We must put an end to the Ara, or the world shall be brought to ruin.’
“And with that, she sent the children out to fight the Ara. She sent Clever Girl and Nurse Girl, Burrowing Male, and Trapper Male, Fisher Male, even Hunter Male, wounded as he was, went. All the children of the Mother but one went forth to battle the Ara.
“Only the Totzakl remained behind, cowering in the bottom of the nest.
“The fight raged for a day and a night, and at the end of it, the Ara was unbowed. She called her surviving monsters to her to destroy the family.
“Hearing the Ara’s call, the Mother called forth her lesser children and grandchildren to fight the Ara and her monsters.
“Giliohga, the progenitor of Humans came and fought the Ara. The Suckling Child and the beasts came from the meadows, but the child only watched as the beasts trampled the monsters, the fish and the Selk came from the sea to drown the monsters, the birds came from the trees and the sky, carrying the Gnomes on their backs, and harassed and blinded the monsters.
“Two more days did the battle go on, back and forth. Many times were the children injured by monsters, but always the Mother made them who
le, to battle the Ara again. The earth shook under the Ara’s fury, and the sun fell from the sky and set the earth to burning, but still the children fought on.
“Finally, the Ara was defeated. The children cut the body of the Ara to pieces, and scattered each piece, so that the Ara might never be again.
“The Ara was destroyed, but the Mother was very angry with Totzakl who had made the Ara and refused to care for it, and with the Suckling Child who had born it.
“She said to the Suckling Child, ‘You shall be a child all your life, and no matter how old or how great, your beauty is gone and you shall suckle forever at your mother.’
“And that is how the Vampires came to be.
“To the Totzakl, she said, ‘You have made much mischief and I am displeased. You made the Ara, but took no responsibility for it. You laid with the Ara against my wishes, and made monsters with it that troubled the land. Finally, when the Ara came, you hid and let others fight in your place.’
“’The Ara and the monsters are the fault of your recklessness and willfulness. You shall bring forth no more children.’
“With that she ordered her children to bind Totzakl. She drew forth a knife and cut his balls away, so that he would bring no more monsters.
“One ball, she gave to the Hunter Male, to heal him forever from the poisonous wounds of the Ara. It did that, but it made him lustful too.
“One ball she gave to Giliohga, the progenitor of Humans, as a reward for his help. In this way, Humans came to share the seed of Totzakl with Goblins, so that when humans and goblins lay together, Totzakl’s children, the Hobgoblins, come forth.
“The third ball of Totzakl, she threw into a pile of dung. Suckling Child saw where it was thrown, and hungry for her lover’s juices, she stole it away, where she sucked all its juices out.
“Because the juices of Totzakl are in the Vampires, when they lay with Goblins, the Arash, wild children of Ara, child of Totzakl and the Suckling Child come forth.”
They waited, watching me. I flushed, glancing from one to the other. What did they want me to say?
“It is a good story,” I said, “you have told it well.”
They’d told it very well. Startlingly well, by the cadences and pauses, the rhythm, you could almost identify the storyteller who’d told it to them. I could almost hear the sound of Goblin rasps reciting, behind their smooth voices.
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