Rin could not contain her nerves. Her skin twitched and her eyes darted to follow the thraiks’ movements.
“I cannot bear this,” she said. “If they do not go soon, I will kill them!”
“No, don’t,” Serafina said. “I swear they will go. I swear it. Trust me.”
“We are outnumbered,” Magpie said.
“Don’t touch your swords,” Serafina said. She spoke soothingly, as if the thraiks could understand her words. “We are harmless. We do not have what they want. How often have you heard of them attacking anyone who has not touched a fragment or a copy of the book?”
Tildi saw Lakanta’s face stricken by fleeting grief. “Never,” the trader said stoutly. “Hold on, my friend,” she told Rin. “They’re nothing but big butterflies.”
Rin’s face twisted, but she held firm for the sake of her friend. “Ugly ones.”
“It will not be for long,” Serafina promised. “Hold steady, Princess. It begins.”
Slowly, Serafina’s spell took effect. Tildi watched as the thraiks seemed to forget what they were doing. They broke formation and sailed around beyond the surface of the bubble. A couple of the larger ones sniffed the area thoroughly, then began to squabble between themselves. The smaller ones kept their distance from the shrieking and growling, as though waiting for orders. The biggest thraik hissed fiercely at his rival, for the other could be nothing else, as if bringing the argument to a halt. He clapped his wings hard against his side. The movement propelled him high above the herd. The sky gashed open, making the stars behind it wink out, and the thraik sailed into it. The others looked at the rival. It seemed to shrug, and followed the first. The group disappeared into the blackness one by one. The company watched the stars reappear. No one seemed to breathe for a moment. Serafina broke the silence.
“I apologize to you all,” she said. “We should have set down before.”
“It’s all right,” Lakanta said, pounding her chest with the flat of her hand. “I needed to reassure myself that my heart would beat that fast.”
“That was an elegant solution, my lady,” Magpie said, his voice heavy with relief.
Serafina pursed her lips in a smile as she turned her mare to lead the way down to the nearest clearing. Tildi followed, but not without a final glimpse at the face of the moon. No thraik, and the new warding was intact. She intended that it would remain around them until they were safely in Olen’s hands. Still, she was glad Serafina had chosen to show mercy to the thraiks, a thought that was as strange as it was right in her mind.
Chapter Eighteen
n the third day galloping through the skies, Tildi saw the Arown’s rune shimmering in the distance long before they came upon the river itself. It was as she had seen it months before, broad and shining, visible through the runes of cloud, tree, and headland that were between her and it. She consulted the map for the town they sought, Lenacru. In the book it appeared as a cluster of the symbols for ship, with the words for house and shop repeated often but in tinier letters, as though they were far less important to the townsfolk than the vessels that provided them with a livelihood.
“How close?” Serafina called to her.
“An hour or a little more,” Tildi said, measuring the map with her fingertips.
“Not long,” Rin said. “I can smell the water.”
“The last bit is always the longest,” Lakanta said. “I can’t wait to get there! I know a good inn in town where we can get a decent meal and superior beer.”
“We have to find Olen,” Tildi said. “He is waiting for us.”
“He’ll find us,” Lakanta assured her. “He knows we’re coming, doesn’t he? Well, then, he’ll have worked out where we will be.”
By the time they met the Arown, the town of Lenacru was in view, occupying a semicircular recess in the cliff walls on the west bank of the river that faced a corresponding bend in the river that passed on either side of a long spit of land. Lenacru was thereby protected from the strongest current, providing a natural harbor. Nearest to the water were broad, gray-roofed buildings of immense size.
“Warehouses,” Lakanta pointed out. “The traders and fishermen live behind them.”
She pointed. Tildi squinted at the gray-walled, wooden houses in rows on narrow streets. As they came closer, she began to see that the streets themselves were crowded with carts and beasts laden with bales. Sounds began to reach them: the cry of gulls, the murmur of voices, and the creak of axles. How different from the bearkin’s lodge, full of song and the trill of birds.
The sun had passed slightly west of its apex by the time they trotted to a halt on the wooden sidewalk that ran perpendicular to the wharves and piers. Tildi was suddenly struck by the fivefold increase in noise, and the hundredfold increase in smells. A wave of rotten fish odor engulfed her, and she screwed up her face in disgust.
“Ah!” Lakanta said. “Makes me feel quite at home.”
“So it is true that dwarves like their fish stinking,” Rin said. A rheumyeyed carter eyed her as he passed, hunched over the reins, and she returned the scrutiny fearlessly.
“Indeed we do,” the trader said with a grin. “I don’t share my kin’s taste, I must say. I like mine best in a waterside tavern with a side of sea chanteys.”
“And sauced with a brawl or two,” Magpie added eagerly. “The Mermaid’s Tail?”
“The very same,” Lakanta said. “It’s just up the road past the warehouse with the red doors, over there.” She pointed.
“We can’t go,” Tildi said worriedly, hugging the book to her. “What about Master Olen? Where is he?” She swept her eye over the many ships along the riverwalk. Many, tethered to bollards with stout cables, bobbed up and down against bundles of cloth-wrapped wood to protect their sides from the piers, but some rode at anchor out in the strand. On none of the decks did she see a man with long white hair and beard and curling black eyebrows, nor could she distinguish his rune among the crowds of people who streamed past them on both sides. If she had not been on Rin’s tall back she would have been lost among their knees. The onrush of runes dazzled her.
“Trust the bearkin and Master Olen,” Serafina said. She still did not have her confidence back. “If they received word that he will be here, then he will be here. Come, let’s find a vantage point to watch the harbor. No one will pay us heed if we stay out of the way. I don’t want to draw attention to the book.”
“I beg your indulgence, Mistress Serafina,” Magpie said with a laugh, “but a man with tricolored hair on a tricolored horse, riding escort upon a dwarf woman upon a shaggy pony, a slender, elegant, dark-haired woman in a green cloak and wizard’s robes, two soldiers, somewhat the worse for the road, and in their midst, the object of their protection, a tiny, wide-eyed smallfolk girl wearing boys’ clothes and with hair cut shockingly to her shoulders, sitting on the back of a glorious, ebony-skinned centaur with snapping green eyes and a black-and-white-striped pelt and tail and a scarlet silk blouse, is going to excite comment. A small thing like a book bobbing on the air by itself will attract little attention by comparison.”
Lakanta laughed but Serafina blushed. “You are right, of course, highness. I . . . have not been out in the world that much,” the young wizardess said.
Magpie put his hand on hers where it rested on the saddlebow. “I am sorry. I don’t mean to tease.”
“I say we leave this spot and go for beer,” Lakanta insisted. “I am eager to hear the news since we were last in a town. Master Olen’s a powerful wizard. He’ll find us. He’d probably appreciate a draught himself.”
“Go if you wish,” the wizardess said, her eyes scanning the waterfront as Tildi’s had done. “I will wait here with Tildi.” She put out a hand to the smallfolk. “You may sit behind me on the saddle, if you wish. It would be cleaner than standing on those bollards.” Tildi was grateful that her master understood her anxiety.
“What?” Rin asked, her dark green eyes snapping with amusement. She twisted her flexible
torso to confront Serafina directly. “Do you think I will abandon my friend for the sake of a glass of brewed grains? I will remain here with her.”
“Thank you,” Tildi said. She felt safer between the centaur and her teacher than she would have with only one protector.
“I will stay, too,” Magpie said. “It would be unwise to divide the party if Olen scoops you up and wants to depart at once. I wish to see the end of this enterprise, come what may.”
“Oh, very well,” Lakanta said reluctantly. “I see when I am outnumbered. But the bearkin aren’t wizards. Who is to know if they got the message garbled or not? We don’t know how long we must wait. And how are you going to explain that to these folk?”
She pointed at the runes that decorated everyone and everything within sight. Tildi realized suddenly that people had noticed the golden letters and were exclaiming over them. She was horrified.
“We have to warn them not to . . . not to . . .” In her mind, the humans began to mutate into monsters, wailing that it was evil sorcery, and it was all her fault. “We have to leave at once, master.”
Teryn nodded to Morag. The two soldiers quietly divided and guided their horses to either end of the party. The captain unobtrusively put her hand under a fold of her cloak and placed it on the hilt of her sword.
“Don’t fear,” Serafina said, suddenly calm. “This is not an unworldly place. Do you see?”
Tildi fidgeted, but she drew her attention to a group of men that Serafina indicated. They saw the runes on their chests. A couple of the younger ones reacted with alarm, but the elders among them shook their heads with confidence. One graybeard held out a wooden disk on a string about his neck. He was hard of hearing, she realized. His voice was pitched so loudly that they could hear him halfway down the boardwalk, but what convinced Tildi was that the symbol for ears in his rune was shrunken abnormally though the ears on his head were of normal size.
“Will that amulet save him from a mishap?” Tildi asked. Serafina glanced at it with an expert eye.
“No. The word upon it tells me it is designed to protect against a deliberate spell. The charm upon it supersedes cast magic, of course, but at least you can see they know enough not to meddle with their runes. A few unwise ones might try, but they will soon discover it’s a bad idea—I hope before they reach the state of that pitiful knight who perished.”
“Shouldn’t we leave this town?” Tildi asked nervously. She had not been around so many big people since she left Olen’s house. She had forgotten how overwhelming crowds could be. The carts barreling down upon them made her jump, though Rin stared down the drivers, making them veer hard to avoid her. “Should we wait elsewhere?”
“We cannot. We do not know from where Olen will come, or if he is here already. We must be patient,” Serafina added, growing impatient. “We shall have to do our best to repair any damage that comes. Stop asking questions! Olen will come when he comes. I do not see the ship of the message. It must not have come yet. We will wait.”
And with that Tildi was forced to content herself.
“Ignore them,” Lakanta said firmly. “You’re a bit of novelty, that’s all. You’ll give them something to talk about while they’re unloading bales of wool. Just think, you’ll be the talk of the town for months to come. His Highness is right: one at a time we might be overlooked, but as a group we’re a circus show. Enjoy it. You can stare at them as much as they stare at you. Pretend you’ve paid a penny to see them.”
Tildi chuckled nervously, but the trader’s advice was good. She studied her surroundings to make herself feel less awkward. Lenacru was very different than the other human towns she had been in. She had never been to any of the fishing villages in the Quarters, so she had no means to compare them. At a distance, though, she could pretend the human fishermen were smallfolk, and therefore not so terrifying.
“There, that’s better,” Serafina said.
A man passing by let out a long, lascivious whistle. Shocked, Serafina turned to look, and he winked meaningfully at her. Her cold expression made him give her a more careful glance. He noticed the staff in her hand, and quickened his pace. When he reached the crowd of men, they laughed at him.
“Winking at wizards!” the oldster cackled in his loud voice.
Rin snorted. “I would kill him for his rudeness, were I you.”
“He appreciates an attractive woman,” Magpie said gallantly. “And he’s paid for his cheek. His friends will give him no peace about flirting with you.”
“What did he think he was doing?”
Magpie was kindly, but his eyes twinkled. “Well, at that moment he saw a girl about twenty years old. That you were bearing a staff he did not notice. Perhaps you can array yourself around with sigils and clouds of light? I would advise it. The men over there are grumbling about the runes, and are looking for someone to blame . . . I suggest you try to look as unapproachable as possible, as quickly as you can.”
“She is a wizard. How much more formidable need she look?” Rin asked.
“It has always amazed me,” Magpie said, “how much credence people put in what they can see, in contrast to what they know to be true.”
Serafina’s cheeks were aglow with shame. Tildi glanced up at her master. For a moment, she felt protective of the young wizardess. To ease her discomfort, she sought to distract her.
“Master, there. I have noticed something.”
“What?”
“There’s a hole in that ship,” she said.
“Where?” Serafina asked.
“In the hull, just above the waterline. There.” She pointed to a spot in the rune, which consisted of many strong lines wound into an egg balanced on its side. At the left edge, the strong lines were interrupted, and the rune for water, with characteristics that met those of the Arown herself, intertwined with it.
“What of it?”
“Should we tell someone? They’d fix it if they knew.”
“What’s the trouble with it?” Lakanta asked curiously.
“That is the word for decay,” Serafina said. “The boards in that spot have rotted through. They might not notice the leak until those collapse inward. If we knew the ship owner, we could inform him.”
“What a wonder to be able to see through walls. Can’t you simply fix it?” Magpie asked. Tildi looked at him uneasily. “You can see the sound wood around it to use for an example.”
“Could I?” Tildi asked Serafina.
The wizardess studied the bobbing rune, a line between her thin brows.
“Very well. It might be a good exercise. Well spotted. I don’t believe it could cause any harm, no matter what you do. It would be a kindness to the ship’s owner. Go ahead. I will watch to make sure nothing untoward happens. In any case, it will be a very judicious change in a very small part of the rune. If you do not think you can control it, do not proceed. Do you understand me?”
“I do, master.” Tildi steadied herself on Rin’s back and drew her knife. She trusted the sharp point more than her fingertip. She immediately regretted volunteering to try. It wasn’t remaking a man or a road, but any alteration made Tildi nervous.
Magpie’s suggestion had been a good one. She studied the part of the rune that stood for sound wood. There were several different kinds making up the ship: oak, hornbark, ash, pliable willow.
The rune was perfectly clear, but too small to make fine alterations. She closed her eyes and pictured it growing in size until it was as big as the ship itself. She heard exclamations from the men on the quay. She opened her eyes. The defect showed up much more distinctly. Tildi could see that the piece had once been oak, polished and varnished like the rest of the hull, but a gouge in it, perhaps from rubbing against other vessels, had caused it to begin to leak.
“Oak,” she said aloud. “Pine resin. Paint.”
The thin line wavered as she touched it with the knife tip. She could feel the reality of the ship as if she had touched it with her hand. It took but a moment to fix
the rotten place, even to shore it up, until it showed as bold as the other lines of the hull, then sealed it with the proper varnish and even the color of paint of the surrounding hull. The ship rocked suddenly. Tildi jumped back, startled. A man’s face glared at her from between the tines of the rune.
“Here, here, ye’re magicking my ship! Ye wizards, ye! Think’e can meddle with that what doesn’t belong ye! Cursing a man’s livelihood!”
“We weren’t . . .” Tildi protested.
The man spat and shook his finger at her. “Course ye was! Think I cannot read what ye say on yer own lips? And look at all they lines all over here you’re tanglin’ about. I could ignore ’em, until you see fit to sink her under me!”
“There was a hole in it!” Lakanta exclaimed. “She repaired it. If you want her to change the wood back to pulp and termites, just say so. I’m sure she’ll be happy to oblige, you old fool!”
“If you please, good captain,” Magpie said smoothly, pressing in between Tildi and the angry sailor. “This is the great wizardess Serafina’s latest apprentice. I am sure that you understand how much work goes into learning to be a proper magician. One has to practice everywhere and everywhen. Now, you heard her speak the incantation. It may have sounded like normal speech, but I assure you it is ancient language that has taken her years to learn. She has taken the wood of your ship and made it sound.”
“Aye?” the captain asked, beginning to eye Tildi with less hostility. By now, they were surrounded by the crowd of idlers.
“What, just by twiddling about with these fooly words that’s on everything, ye can plug a hole?” the old man asked, his protruberent eyes bulging toward Tildi. “What else can ye do with ’em? Can ye make it so’s I hear proper again? Hey? I’d pay ye for such wizarding. I got money. I’ll bet she don’t gi’ ye much in the way o’ pay. What about it?”
The need he felt suffused his whole being. Tildi almost said yes. The others pressed in, their longing just as poignant. She could help them all. It would take less effort than keeping the quay from changing under their feet. They surrounded her with eager faces, all hoping. Tildi opened her mouth, ready to promise help, then a thought imposed itself upon her with the force of a blow.
A Forthcoming Wizard Page 33
