by Vic Broquard
“Well, Mage Jarka, you have a sharp mind. Yes, I do see your point. I will agree to a one time only trade of blue spit for something of vital importance to us blues.”
“Oh thank you, sir, thank you. What can we give to you in return?” Relief swelled through her body. Gems, she thought, would be his reply. Never in a million years did she expect what she heard next.
“We want Baron Goro to give us the island known as Orochi. Bring me the Baron Goro’s document ceding that island to the blues and I will provide you with a jar of spit,” Bolivar stated. He guessed that she would be unable to procure the island and thus he would be seen as offering to help with the cure while not actually doing so. He was still mulling over whether there would be any significant differences between an armless Archmage and one with arms. It seemed to him that lacking arms would make the Archmage vastly more vulnerable. If he lacked his wings or his legs, he knew that he would be extraordinarily handicapped.
“Oh! An island? Oh my. What on earth do you want an island for? I thought that the Blue Dragons were a sea faring creature,” Jarka replied. Her mind staggered from the seemingly off-the-wall bargaining request, one she could not hope to obtain. Why did he need an island?
“Orochi has many ideal caves in and around it, perfect breeding grounds for we blues. Bring me that document and we will trade. I must be off now.” He bowed to her and dove into the water, morphing into his huge serpent-like form just as he hit the waters. He went under and, though she watched, he didn’t surface again.
Honani walked back to her. “Well, how did it go?”
“Good and bad. Good, in that we now know of at least one substance which neutralizes the toxin. Bad in that Bolivar wants me to get Goro to give the dragons one of his islands, Orochi. What am I going to do now?”
“Any chance of faking Goro’s signature on such a document?” Honani asked.
Jarka smiled, “Well, if I must, I must. First, I suppose that we should talk to Goro about it.”
“You want me to give the Blue Dragons our island, Orochi?” Baron Goro exclaimed. Jarka had Messaged him and then teleported to his fortress. Honani sat back on the yacht and enjoyed the warm sea breezes along with the captain. She’d explained that his saliva neutralized the neurotoxin that was used in the women’s arms.
“Yes, they seem to need its caverns for their breeding grounds, it seems.”
“You don’t know about this southern island do you?”
“No.”
“It is one of our secret pearl sites. We obtain a fair number of pearls from the oyster beds around there. That is a most expensive piece of real estate on Asami, Jarka.”
“But I can tell all of the other barons that their women regained their arms solely and only because you gave up a valuable island to obtain a cure for their women,” Jarka began to play politics. “The other barons would be deeply in your debt, Goro.”
“Yes, I can see that, but we have a colony of mermaids there.”
“I know all about your mermaids, Goro — how you Duska impregnate women and then when the girl children reach the age of around ten, you use metal rings to clamp their legs together so they cannot move them or ever walk again and then force their legs into a mermaid tail. You use them to procure your oysters, using them until they die. If that isn’t totally inhumane, I don’t know what is. I could let the other barons know about that little dicey thing.” Jarka played the last card that she had.
“You wouldn’t! Zoran wouldn’t let you.”
“I would. I am not Zoran.”
“This is blackmail.”
“No, this is helping a hundred women avoid living a life without arms. You are giving these women their lives back, not to mention gaining great favor from all the other barons in the process,” Jarka put the emphasis back to where it ought to have been.
Goro squirmed. He could ill afford to have his mermaid scheme widely known. The only off-worlder who knew about the mermaids of Asami was Zoran and Jarka, and of course their spouses, unless they already told others. He doubted that, since no one else ever mentioned it. This was a steep price to pay for the goodwill of the barons.
Jarka had another thought, “Look, Goro, if the blues ever begin attacking your people, we will have the antidote to their paralyzing breath and I give you my solemn oath such will be readily available to you. The reds went against Rehor and Dietmar. The blacks turned against all the worlds they inhabited. What’s to prevent the blues from one day going after you and taking over all the islands they desire?”
“But they’ve not bothered us yet.”
“Key word: yet.” She punched in that bit of doubt, knowing that Asami had almost no way to protect itself from any dragon attack.
“Does Zoran know about this?” he asked.
“Nope. Should I tell him?”
“No! All right. Let’s keep this between you and me. I will agree if you will put it in writing that you will ensure that all of the recipients of this cure of yours knows that they are getting it because of Asami’s gift to them and that all of the barons are also told that their women are being cured only because I gave up a huge fortune to the blues to obtain the cure on their behalf. We’ll keep the mermaids between us.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Baron Goro. I’ll write it up now and you can look it over and make any changes you wish.” Jarka felt a huge weight lifting. Hastily, she conjured pen and paper and wrote out the declarations. Goro looked it over and suggested a few word changes and she made them. When he finally agreed, she then signed it, with Kimiko acting as their witness.
Once that was done, Goro wrote out another document, ceding Orochi to the Blue Dragons. He needed a couple of days to evacuate his mermaids. She agreed and after thanking him again, returned to the yacht in the far southern quadrant.
“Got it!” Jarka waved the new document in front of Honani.
“How in the world did you manage that? Incredible! He gave up a prize island for spit of a dragon?” Honani replied flabbergasted.
“I am a shrewd negotiator,” Jarka replied with a wry grin. No way was she divulging what she had done, not even to Zoran. She’d merely relate the agreed upon generosity angle of Goro’s.
Having met Bolivar, she was then able to Message him. Sir, I have Baron Goro’s document that you requested.
A few minutes later, Bolivar rose from the ocean once more. He delayed a bit, recovering from his total surprise. He had never really considered that Mage Jarka could possibly obtain such a deal for mere spit! After he regained his composure, he surfaced and morphed into his usual robust human form.
Bolivar looked over the document seeking to find any hidden clauses or exceptions or loop holes. He found none at all. Goro simply turned the island over to the Blue Dragons, but requested they not take possession for two days so he could get his people off the island. When he seemed satisfied, Jarka said, “I need this filled, sir. We don’t know how much we are going to need for the women and will have to do some experimentation. Neither of us wants to repeat this — well maybe you might, just to obtain another island.” She couldn’t help interject a little teasing jest.
For the first time, Bolivar cracked a slight grin. “This will take a while.” An hour later, he had filled her gallon container with spittle. They bowed to each other and Bolivar dove back into the ocean. Honani and Jarka thanked the captain and he Shadow Walked her back to Brn.
Zoran was there to meet them. “Jarka, you went off world on your own! Don’t you realize just how dangerous it is? Honani has a bloodhound Red Dragon that is out there looking for him. You could have gotten both of yourselves killed. Why didn’t you ask me for help?”
“Cause you and everyone else are busy, really busy. We had no trouble at all,” she smiled waiting for the chance to announce her bombshell. He saw her carrying a gallon container.
“What is that?”
“A gallon of Blue Dragon spit, baron. A couple of drops will neutralize the neurotoxin in the women’s arms. Boliva
r demonstrated it for me and it works.”
“What? You found a cure? Incredible, Jarka!” Zoran forgot all about her going off-world without telling her. “Where did you get that much Blue Dragon spit?”
“Bolivar gave it to me. We made a deal. Baron Goro paid a very steep price to the blues to obtain this cure for all of the other barons. It cost Goro a fortune, but now we have a cure for all the women. I do hope that you will let the many barons know that they owe Goro a huge favor and thank you. He gave up a prized oyster island just to get this cure to the afflicted women. Of course, I do believe I have got tons more than we need right now. Just thinking ahead, Zoran. We’ve got enough for future needs as well.”
Zoran picked her up and twirled her around. The relief he felt was tremendous. “If this works, I will make sure that all the barons know how much they owe Goro. Incredible. Go, get this cure going!”
She smiled. “Need to do all sorts of tests and such. We have to find ways to inject it at just the right spots. I have no idea whether it will be of any use on those with matchsticks for arms though. We’ll see.” She skipped out of the room and off to her small lab, summoning Izabela on the way.
After some discussion, the two potion makers agreed. Injecting dragon spit into a woman’s arm could well cause all manner of other unpredictable things to occur, infections being the least of them. The two decided to do some experiments first. Izabela pointed out that spit contained a lot of water. Perhaps they could distill some of it down and concentrate it while also killing any infectious things that might be in the dragon’s spit. They did so and tried putting a drop on a drop of the bluish gooey substance. Once more, it worked and the chemical reaction neutralized the toxin. That took a day.
Another day was spent fabricating a delivery system, using a hollow needle and syringe system the two conjured up, based on the needle that she’d seen the red use to insert the blue toxin. Now came the real problem: how to know where to inject it and how deep it had to be?
Adrianna became their first test subject, primarily because the pin pricks in her shoulders were still barely visible. Using that as a guide and a rough estimate of the depth, Jarka inserted a couple of drops of the extract into each of her shoulders. They waited.
“I feel a burning sensation in my shoulders,” Adrianna said. “Something is happening.”
“You bet it is! Look, her fingers just moved!” Izabela pointed out.
Within minutes, Adrianna had partial sensation and mobility in both arms, but it was far from complete. Instead of making a second injection, one of the physicians suggested massaging the injection site; perhaps that would spread the extract around some. They did so and more and more feeling returned to her arms and hands. An hour later, Adrianna had fully recovered and began to cry. She was that relieved. So was Jarka, for that matter. Adrianna returned to her magic class waving her arms about — stopping the whole class. Zdenka beamed, this was the most welcome interruption ever!
“We’d best get this cure to the most needy first,” Jarka declared, and then began planning how she and Izabela would handle the remaining ninety-five women. That meant the matchstick cases, whose arms looked almost dead.
Physician Bedrich shook his head. “Here, look at these samples that we’ve saved. He and I have been doing some further studies on the remaining arms of the original seventeen women.” They’d cleared away most of the flesh around an elbow and then the wrist. “You see, one of the reasons the women were breaking their arms so easily after they gave birth is that their arms were like this is — the joints were extremely stiff and didn’t bend much. Since we could not figure out any cure, we decided to see if we could see why that was happening. See for yourselves. The bones have begun to fuse together.” Jarka and Izabela looked at the grizzly sight. He was right.
“So you think that even if we inject the cure, the women’s arms may be beyond the recovery stage?” she asked.
“Yes, we thought that we ought to point this out to you. We could be wrong. Maybe the process can be reversed, but maybe it is too late. We just don’t know, but you need to know this before you begin,” Physician Bedrich explained.
“You sent for me?” the timid voice of Anezka got their attention. She had been summoned from Kate’s class to the infirmary. She was one of the worst cases, having gone weeks beyond giving birth. Her arms were extremely thin and brittle. She’d broken her arms three times now in the last two weeks.
“We have finally found a cure, Anezka. It worked on Adrianna. Now we are going to give it a try on you,” Jarka explained. They tested her arms and hands first. As the physicians anticipated, her elbows barely moved. Her wrist was almost immobile. Her fingers didn’t move at all. Jarka looked for the injection site, but could not find it. Physician Bedrich held up one of the preserved arms, pointing out where they’d uncovered the bluish toxin. Jarka used that as a pattern and performed the two injections. Now they waited. “It shouldn’t take long to see if this works on you.” She kept her fingers crossed.
“I can feel them! It’s working!” exclaimed the young woman. However, not long after that, Anezka began crying. “God! It hurts! My arms, they hurt really badly!” Soon, she was shrieking in pain and agony. While they had restored all feeling in her arms, now the poor woman was enduring the terrible consequences! “Make it stop! I can’t stand it!”
Quickly, Jarka cast a Sleep spell on Anezka. The physicians raced to retrieve some pain killers and slipped the liquid into her mouth. “We should keep her sedated and on pain killers a while. Give her arms time to heal, perhaps,” Physician Bedrich suggested. They all agreed.
Instead of doing all the worst cases first, they began doing all of the easy ones, handling two dozen each day. Sometimes, a second injection was needed. All of these women responded well. Sixty-four women regained the use of their arms. True, the last sixteen had very stiff arms and needed a long period of recovery and daily warm massages, but they made it. Sixty-four women were elated, overjoyed that Jarka had found a cure for them. The remaining thirty-one were on hold, waiting to see if Anezka could recover.
During these three days, Anezka was constantly monitored, but the excruciating pains didn’t abate nor did her arms improve. After the sixty-four were handled, Jarka looked the remaining women over. Fifteen were more than three weeks beyond the sixty day point, while another sixteen were about a week beyond their sixty day point from the time of the injections. At last, Jarka decided to experiment on one of the sixty-day plus one week women, Kamila of Adapazan. Her joints were stiff but there was still some flex remaining. Like Anezka, when feeling and sensation returned to her arms and hands, Kamila was in intense pain and also had to be kept on heavy pain killers, a morphine derivative drug.
The final thirty women visited Anezka and Kamila daily, hoping and praying that the horrible pains they were experiencing would begin to subside and their arms would begin to recover. Oh how these women wanted just that. After a week, Anezka said, “Please, Jarka, please, just take them off me. The pain is intolerable and they aren’t getting any better. My arms are just plain dead. Please, I beg you.”
With a sad heart, Jarka relayed her request. As soon as the other fifteen in her group heard of Anezka’s decision, they each asked for theirs to be removed as well. The next day, Anezka was cheerful and ready to resume her magic studies. Jarka’s healing potions worked wonders on her now empty shoulders. Anezka commented, “Look, I have had eighty plus days without them and I am getting used to life without them. Besides, if I work hard at my studies, I will be able to morph just like Danika and the other are doing. It’s for the best, Jarka.” Two more days passed and the rest of her fifteen women were back into their studies, their shoulders properly healed.
Kamila was also monitored during these busy days. Physician Bedrich attempted to wean her off of the pain killers with some small success. Finally after more than a week in recovery, Kamila, Jarka, Izabela, and the two physicians met to make a final decision. “Look, it has wor
ked some. While I am still taking morphine, it’s not as much. I am able to swing my arms around like so. I can sort of bend them a little at my elbow, see?” She bent her lower arms up perhaps ten degrees or so, but that was all. “I can wiggle my fingers.”
Kamila sighed. “Take them off me please. If this is all the recovery I get, it’s pointless. I can’t do anything with them and it is totally delaying my magic studies! At this rate of recovery, it may take a year if they really did ever recover. I am far better off without them and as soon as I can get to the Morph Self spell, I won’t need them anyway. I know you did your best, but I want to get on with my life and I can’t like this.”
To be on the safe side, Jarka asked her fifteen like companions to visit with her and discuss the situation among themselves. After all, the fifteen had been visiting her each day since the experiment began. A half hour later, they all agreed and two days later they were back in their classroom studying away. Their shoulders were nicely healed up, again thanks to Jarka’s healing potions.
“Well, we saved sixty-four of them and only lost thirty-two of them,” Izabela pointed out as Jarka and the physicians picked up their things. Besides that, Archmage Marek really needed Jarka back in his classroom. “We don’t always get what we want, but I think you worked a miracle anyway, Jarka.”
That evening when Jarka walked into the Great Hall for dinner, quite exhausted from all the running around she’d done to help Marek’s group of thirty-one students learning to cast their Clean spells, the room erupted into a huge round of applause and cheers. Jarka had never had such an outpouring of thanks sent her way before. Her own emotions got the better of her and tears trickled down her cheeks. All her work on their behalf was acknowledged by the women themselves.
