They kissed.
"But then you turned back into a horse."
"I couldn't help it. You were standing over me so powerful, so perfect."
"And you started to eat the rosebush."
Isaac chuckled. "Indeed."
Rivka grinned back, understanding his double meaning.
"Harder..."
Chapter 14: Good Cop
The doctor told Rivka and Isaac that when Caleb had woken up in the middle of the night to urinate, he was medically out of the woods and fit to question. Since the two of them were still asleep themselves, Caleb's guards simply tied him back up and waited until morning, and let the delinquent return to sleep.
Now it was morning, a bright, clear one, and the pair entered Caleb's cell. They stood against the wall, watching him sleep. Rivka was powerful and in control; anger still flowed through her, but it served her rather than controlling her. She also felt happy and sexually satiated.
"You were perfect last night," she said to Isaac in their native language, since there was nothing to do until Caleb woke up. The two of them had discussed it and thought it would be psychologically intimidating for him to wake up to their presence naturally.
"Of course I was," said Isaac smugly. "It's what you deserve."
"You were everything I needed you to be."
"Shapeshifter!" He smiled wickedly.
"You know that's not what I mean." Then Rivka remembered some details. "Well, maybe a little bit."
"I thought you liked that."
"I like everything. I like you."
A noise nobody but two trained warriors would have heard came from the far side of the room. Caleb had swallowed. Rivka heard the clenching of his jaw and could tell he was awake. She met Isaac's eyes with her own and then turned back toward the prisoner.
"Wake up, you dog. That is your name, isn't it? Caleb?" Her words were a percussive sneer.
Caleb just groaned.
Rivka stalked to the bedside in a single step and towered over him. "You're new in Home City. I don't like it when people bring trouble to my town. Have you heard of me?"
"Mmmhmm," Caleb whimpered.
"What?" Rivka kicked the bed.
"Yes, sir."
"Who am I?"
"You're Captain Riv... sir."
"And what's my job?"
"You—guard..."
"I protect the queen." Rivka gripped the bed with both hands and jostled it up violently, tipping Caleb toward the wall. "Do you hear? I. Protect. The. Queen. You really thought to mess with me was a good idea?"
"I wasn't going to—"
"I don't care! And who says I believe you, anyway?" She jerked the bed again, and only Caleb's restraints kept him from being smashed into the wall on the other side of the bed.
She knew they were protecting him, of course.
"It was only a joke."
"Am I laughing?" shouted Riv.
"No—"
"Do I look like I'm laughing? Isaac, he thinks he's a comedian. I don't see anything funny here. Where did you get those powers?"
Caleb said nothing. Rivka's warrior instincts told her he'd suddenly thought of someone else to fear—the name he was protecting.
"My turn," Isaac murmured in their native tongue.
As Rivka withdrew, she watched Isaac approach the bed with warmth on his face. Maybe he could win the schmendrick's trust and convince him to confess his supplier that way.
"I'm Isaac," said the wizard to the prisoner. "You seem like you'd be a fine young man if you weren't trying to steal from us."
Caleb's eyes widened and he strained against his bonds. He didn't say anything.
"Now, you've met Riv—you've heard of Riv, and you know what he can do. I don't think you want that. I think you'd rather talk to me, because I'm not as angry as he is. I can be nice to you. All we need to know is the name of the one who sold you the magic you used last night."
"I don't remember," Caleb murmured nervously. Naomi would have been able to tell he was lying. Rivka eyed him critically; he was almost vibrating with fear.
"Maybe we can protect you from whoever you're scared of. If, you know, you can help us." Isaac sat down on the edge of the bed and Caleb yelped.
"Dafna! Dafna with the soap. Don't touch me."
***
"That was quick," said Shulamit, who was waiting for them in the courtyard just outside the detention area. Someone had brought her a chair, and she was nursing Naomi under a dragon tree. At her feet was a pile of parchments; she was taking a break from reading about several of the proposed solutions to an outbreak of tiny white insects that were currently threatening the papaya crop in the western half of the country.
"He was too scared of her threats at first to admit it," said Rivka, "but then Isaac got close to him and he panicked. I can't understand it."
"I was just trying to be the nice one," said Isaac innocently.
Rivka squinted at him in the sunlight.
"So Dafna's at the root of all this?" said the queen.
Rivka nodded. "Yes. Caleb spilled everything, even things we weren't asking. He started by stealing from Zev—he confessed to that—and then, Dafna caught him trying to steal from Gershom. She filled his head full of threats."
"She said she was a witch and she'd make him bleed from his ears and nose instantly if he told anyone about her or tried to steal from Gershom again," said Isaac. "As if that woman ever had a magical idea. In a gefilte fish, I've sensed more magical training than in her." He snorted at the thought.
"She must have stolen whatever she sold him from someone else," said Shulamit. "Or found it, or... bought it."
"When she caught him stealing, she offered to sell him her special potion," Rivka continued. "He paid for it with what he'd already stolen from Zev."
Shulamit nodded, her eyes narrowing. "We need that potion. We need to stop this. Confiscate it, and bring Dafna here. Maybe now we'll finally find out who impersonated Esther and get her violin back."
***
A team of guards led by Isaac approached Dafna's stall. Since the form of her ill-gotten magic was uncertain, Isaac kept her in his sight even before they'd come close enough to speak to her. Fear flashed into her face for a moment, but she quickly wiped it away and covered it with bravado. "So many attractive guards," she quipped when they got closer. "I'm glad I bothered with scented hair barrettes."
"I thought I smelled trouble," Isaac shot back smoothly.
"Well, trouble's all in how you—"
"Dafna, I think you know why we're here," interrupted the wizard. "Let's not waste time."
Dafna shook her head. "As far as I know, you're all here to buy soap, like everyone else."
"That's not all you're selling here." Isaac gestured to her merchandise. "You have something in this stall with magical properties. Surrender it freely, and Her Majesty may be persuaded to let you keep your permission to sell in the market."
"Wha—magic? Me? If I had magic, do you think I'd be standing up here all day? I'd be sitting by the river eating bourekas!" Dafna laughed, but Isaac saw the nervousness in the set of her jaw.
He signaled with his good hand, and two guards stepped forward and railroaded Dafna out in front of her stall. "Wha—Get off me! You have no right!"
"Make sure she doesn't run off," Isaac ordered, and he entered the stall to begin his search.
"You can't do this! I've done nothing wrong." Dafna's voice carried. "You're interfering with my business. I know—he's going to plant something on me. Gershom!"
"Don't let him get away, either," Isaac called over his shoulder as he saw Gershom emerge from the stall next door. Dafna's shop was a hive of drawers, boxes, baskets, and bags, and each one radiated its own fragrance. The resulting confusion left him feeling as if he were drowning in soap, and he paused for a moment to create a spell that surrounded him with a clean atmosphere.
He sensed the presence of something powerful yet dormant nearby, but in the cascade of ointment bottles
and cakes of soap, it was difficult to tell which of so many tiny objects was the key to all the palace's problems of late. A group of intricately carved flasks attracted his attention, but upon poking at them with his own aura, he found them to be nothing more than artwork.
"My husband will appeal to the queen on my behalf, and she'll have you all shoveling horse dung!" Dafna's voice rang loudly from the street. Isaac also heard Gershom's voice, audible but indistinct, muttering at the guards.
"You speak in horse dung," Isaac grumbled. He was carefully, painstakingly, running one finger over every single cake of soap. He was pursuing an idea.
"—foreigner, come in here and—"
Rose, jasmine, litchi... each cake of soap looking just like the rest. Pear, fig—wait. There it was.
He passed his right palm over the cake of soap, drawing magic from the unassuming cream-colored block. A vibration rocked his hand, and the soap glowed slightly. When he turned his hand over, he saw that for about three seconds, his scar receded and melted away into his skin, as if it had healed properly. As he watched, the scar returned.
He picked up the soap with his left hand and inspected it. A tiny crack even smaller than a hair showed the place where it had been sliced in half and then sealed shut again with water.
"Bring me water," he called to one of the guards as he stepped out into the street.
When Dafna saw what he had in his hand, she shot Gershom a frightened look. "He's stealing my merchandise!"
A small crowd had gathered from all of her hollering, including Aviva, watching intently with her arms full of carrots, and Micah, whom Isaac noticed hiding in the crawlspace between Dafna's stall and the side she didn't share with Gershom. Likely summoned at the word stealing, one of the marketplace officials stalked up to the center of the action and demanded to know what was going on.
"We're here on orders of the queen," Isaac explained calmly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was law enforcement," said the official. "She was screaming as if she were being knocked over by hooligans."
"They are hooligans! Power-hungry—" Dafna fell into invective.
"This is probably just a misunderstand—" Gershom was still trying to weasel out of it.
"Water," said one of the guards, handing Isaac a jug.
Placing the cake of fig-scented soap in his right hand, and careful to stand over the street where he wouldn't damage anything, Isaac poured the water onto the soap. It splashed freely onto the stones as it dripped off his hand.
"What's he doing?" someone in the crowd wanted to know.
"He's crazy."
"No, I think I get it."
Isaac set the jug down on Dafna's table. Then, with his good hand, he pressed against the soap firmly. Drawing on the hidden magic as he had before, he borrowed its power briefly so that he could use his right hand as leverage in the opposite direction.
The two halves of the soap slid apart, and he opened them.
With a half of the soap in each hand, he turned to face Dafna. "Where did you get this stone?"
There was a murmur in the crowd when they saw the black-purple gem that lay inside the hollow of one of the halves.
"It's rightfully mine!" Dafna shot back. Gershom looked uncomfortable.
Aviva stepped closer to peer at it. "It's beautiful. What is it?"
"It's for transformation," Isaac explained quietly. "It merges with the body of the one who swallows it, and changes that person into the self they should be."
"A ripening crystal," Aviva commented.
"You could look at it that way, yes," said Isaac.
"It's the color of ripe figs, anyway."
"That must be why she chose the fig scent to hide it in—so she wouldn't forget where it was." Isaac turned to Dafna. "Where did you get this?"
"It's mine, rightly and legally," Dafna insisted. "Last year I often visited the silk merchant's mother when she was dying of her illness. My scents brought her comfort, and she needed my ointments for her sore body. She gave that stone to me in gratitude for my comforts."
"Well, she would have had no right to do that," Isaac replied. "And I remember her well, and I don't know if I'd be so sure to insist she 'gave' it to you freely."
"After all I did for her—"
"Yes, I bet you think you deserved it. Guards—take her to the palace. There are other layers to this," Isaac reminded them.
"But my wares!" Dafna sent a panicked look flying around her shop.
"The guards will pack them up and take them with us," said Isaac. "It wouldn't hurt to examine them all again in case you chose to reward yourself with more of your friend's property."
Chapter 15: The Crystal
Shulamit studied the crystal, watching the sun play off dozens of facets. The light brought out the rich purple, which shadows reduced to only black. "So this—this—is what's behind it all? Caleb, Gershom, and the violin?"
Isaac nodded. "Very likely all three, although she hasn't confessed everything yet."
"How does it work?"
"It's intended for one-time use," said Isaac, "created for the sole purpose of permanently transforming a person into their true self."
"Then how are all these people using it to play dress-up for a few hours?"
"Dafna didn't know what it was," Isaac explained, "but she found that if she soaked it in spirits, it leached some of its magic into the liquid."
"Oh, so that's what she was selling."
"Exactly."
"How'd she ever figure that out?"
"At one point during her time with it, she'd hidden it in wine," said Isaac, "probably because of the color—and then when she drank the wine later and made a flippant wish about the, er, size of her—"
Shulamit giggled. "That must have been a real surprise!"
"So she's been bottling and selling the spirits as shifting potion ever since."
Shulamit shook her head slowly. "Amazing. And totally—totally—illegal. For exactly this reason." She paused to shift Naomi around so she could nurse on the other breast. "The stone's dangerous. What did you do with it?"
"I have it safe," Isaac said, nonchalantly tapping his pocket.
"As soon as this little girl's finished, I'll go in there and try to persuade her to tell us who else she sold the potion to besides Gershom and Caleb." Shulamit rocked Naomi slightly. "How is Caleb, by the way?"
"He'll be fine," said Isaac. "He's recovered completely from Riv's temper, and as far as his criminal career—he seems sufficiently scared of us that I think we can return him to his aunt. He's still very young."
"Tell his aunt," mused Shulamit, "tell his aunt that as a condition of his release, he must be apprenticed to someone immediately in a very lucrative field. He's not a violent person, but he is greedy. If he could direct his energy toward something where he felt like honest work was financially worth it—"
"I agree," said Isaac. "Hard to see the value of honest work when honest work is to crush fruit with a pestle all day! For someone like him, anyway."
"And promise him that Riv will come looking for him if he strays from an honest path."
"Oh, I will." Isaac winked at her.
***
With the infant princess sleeping strapped to her chest, Shulamit crossed the palace to the room where they were holding Dafna. On the way, she and Rivka had to walk through the area where the guards had piled all of Dafna's confiscated wares, and the mixed-up and disturbed scents filled the air. "Phew!" the queen murmured, careful not to disturb Naomi. "Kind of funny to think about how, in small amounts, this stuff makes you clean, but a lot of it's almost something you have to go and get clean from!"
"Soap doesn't have to have scent," was her bodyguard's response.
When they reached Dafna, she was sitting at the simple table behind a cup of water provided by the guards. From its level, it didn't look as though she'd touched much of it. Shulamit perceived discomfort and agitation in her body language, but Dafna's face was a fair attempt a
t a mask of calm hospitality. Ever the saleswoman, she observed.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," said Dafna in a hushed voice. "Your little one's so cute. I remember when mine were that age. I don't want to think about how long ago that's been!" She smiled, but it was strained. "You know, you remind me of one of my daughters. She's always wearing violet, just like you. Likes pretty clothes. They both do."
Rivka remained standing as Shulamit sat down across the table from her, not distracted by the conversational bait. "Dafna," Shulamit began. "We need to talk about the stone."
"It's neat, isn't it? It's really just a beauty aid. I sell beauty aids. I've got powder that can draw attention to your eyes; creams to smooth your skin, wax for your eyebrows—" Dafna must have realized it was the wrong thing to say from the blast of cold air Shulamit could feel coming out of her face, because she quickly backed off. "Not that you need any—Your Majesty—I'm sure you understand, though. Plenty of women come into my shop every day looking for creams, ointments, anything to make their skin healthier or their hair shiny. Is it all that different to do it with magic? I mean, when you think about it, the stuff we get from plants seems like magic anyway."
"It's very different, Dafna, and you know that," said Shulamit quietly.
"It's hard out there when you have these children, growing up, ordering the finest fabrics from the tailor and needing tutors and trips to the Sugar Coast with their friends..." Dafna sighed. "I can't say no to them."
"That doesn't mean you get to break the law so that your kids can go to the beach. That's not how it works," said Shulamit. "The law is there for a reason."
"It's not really a fair law, though, is it?" Dafna replied. "Why should only people with magical training be allowed to use it?"
"They wouldn't be allowed to do illegal things with it, either," said Shulamit. "But with trained wizards, at least we know who they are. People like Isaac and the Queen of the Clay City—wizards always know other wizards. So if someone is using shapeshifting magic to impersonate someone else and commit crimes, we'd have a very small and finite pool of suspects. The minute something like that, human impersonation, sneaks out into the general population—that's a problem. It's a problem for me because I'm in charge of this nation, and it's a problem for Captain Riv because it's his job to protect it. I don't like it when I have a problem, and nobody likes it when he has a problem. As I'm sure you've heard."
A Harvest of Ripe Figs Page 10
