Want her? Probably not. Need her? Definitely. “I can’t leave her there. She’s my friend.”
“How this friend get on island?”
“The–” there was no word in Duremen-Lor for turybird, unfortunately. “The turtle turd wanted to teach the swordsman a lesson. She challenged him to a duel, but instead of fighting with her, he abandoned her out there.”
Olgi’naifu laughed. “Silly girl is lucky. Your friend needs lesson about teaching lessons. Know who she challenged?”
If he’d known, he might have been able to stop her.
“Royal messenger.” Olgi’naifu shook her head. “Temple-blessed swordsman. Is always in hurry. He could hurt your cross-eyed friend. Badly.”
“That’s what I thought, too. Can I hire you to–?”
“You talk too much.” She heaved Lorel’s pack into the skiff and held out a hand to him. “Get in.”
With her help, he managed to get himself, his crutches, and the rest of their gear into the boat without falling into the river. He settled on a bench near the front of the boat. The wood looked scrupulously clean, but the stench of fish guts suffocated him.
Olgi’naifu untied the ropes, pulled oars from beneath her bench and used them to push the boat away from the dock. Mist rose from the water as she rowed. Green slime slid from the oars each time the paddle showed above the muddy river.
Viper wished he could do something to help her. Maybe he could distract her a little. And distract himself from the reek of dead fish. “What’s the name of your village?”
She laughed so hard she stopped rowing. “Village? Long time since it called village. City named Moyara-Dur.”
He looked back and studied the collection of bamboo and leaf huts. If this was the city, his plans for trade were ruined.
Olgi’naifu laughed again. “You see edge only. Much bigger buildings far from river, where they not washed out in monsoon.” She pulled on the oars, and the boat slipped across the water. “Where you go from here?”
His stomach growled. “To find supper.” He slapped his hand over his mouth. Could he be any ruder?
She just chuckled. “I point you to good inn when we get back. Not long now.”
The muddy island rose out of the river like a mound of chocolate ice cream melting in a puddle of hot caramel.
His stomach growled again. He needed to stop thinking about food. He needed to be ready to help Lorel get off the blasted island. He pulled a crutch closer to his chest. Too bad there was nowhere to run once he got her.
He felt eyes glaring at him. He didn’t see Lorel, but it had to be her. Olgi’naifu’s back was to him, so it couldn’t be her staring at him. No one else was in sight.
It didn’t matter who was watching them. He pushed the thought of spying eyes away. Just another fisherman, out in the reeds somewhere.
A fish splashed out of the water, nipped at a fly, and fell back in.
Why couldn’t he see Lorel? The island wasn’t that big. If he were a little taller, he’d be able to see the whole thing. He pulled one crutch closer and tried to stand up.
“Sit, man-child.” Olgi’naifu glanced over her shoulder. “Tip my boat, I won’t fish you out. How good you swim?”
He sighed and settled onto the bench. Why was he so blasted anxious to get Lorel back? She’d just scold him for leaving him.
Water erupted into the air. A fish launched itself out of the river. A blasted long fish.
Olgi’naifu gasped, turned, and swung an oar at it. She missed.
That wasn’t a fish, it was a long flat snake. And it was aimed right at his throat.
Viper swung his crutch like a club and smacked the snake out of the air. It splashed into the river and sank.
Olgi’naifu eased back onto her bench, and scanned the river warily. “That doesn’t happen often. Might be hunter below. You watch.” Her muscles bulged as she rowed, moving far faster than before.
Watch what? Watch for what? More snakes? He inspected the river’s surface carefully. The water was too muddy to see more than an inch down. How would he know if one was about to jump?
The boat’s hull grazed the muddy island. “Girl, come,” Olgi’naifu called. Her voice seemed shriller.
Water bubbled and popped next to the boat. “Lorel, hurry up!” His voice was shrill, too. How embarrassing. He didn’t even know why he was scared. What were the chances that a second snake would leap at him? Even as undergrown and skinny as he was, he was too big for the blasted thing to swallow him.
Sweat slithered down his face, along his neck, down his chest and back. It soaked his Zedisti-made shirt, but didn’t cool his body. Moisture soaked through Olgi’naifu’s lavender wrap and dripped down her ribs.
Lorel stood, crossed her arms, and glared down at him.
What was wrong with her? He’d come back for her, hadn’t he? “Hurry up or you can swim to shore.” Water splashed into the boat. “And there’s snakes in the river.”
“You and your snakes.” She tromped down the side of the island and stepped into the skiff. “Why’d you leave me?”
“I didn’t push you off the ferry, turybird. Sit down and help me watch.”
Olgi’naifu pushed away from the island before Lorel was completely settled.
“Mean old lady. Watch for what, kid?”
She wasn’t mean or old, but she did look worried. She dug the oars into the river like she was digging a grave. The boat sped across the water.
“Watch for what, kid?”
Olgi’naifu screamed and dropped to the bottom of the boat.
Lorel stood and drew her long sword.
Viper ducked.
Water exploded and thrust the boat to the side. Horny gray scales as long as his arm broke the river’s surface. Dripping fangs in a table-sized snout snapped at one oar.
Olgi’naifu shrieked and yanked both oars high out of the water.
Twenty feet away, a spiked whip slashed at the water. That couldn’t be the monster’s tail, could it?
Lorel dove forward and stabbed at the creature’s open mouth. Blood splurted from its slashed tongue.
The monster roared. Its jaws snapped closed over the sword, but the bahtdor-bone blade sliced between its teeth. Blood squirted over its chin. It wrenched its mouth open again.
Lorel continued to fall forward. Her sword cut through the creature’s lower jaw without touching the bone.
If the turybird kept going, she’d fall into the monster’s mouth.
Viper swung one crutch and whopped her across the belly. Olgi’naifu grabbed the foot of his crutch, and between them they dragged Lorel back into the boat.
Agony burned from his wounded foot to his hip, up his spine, and out the top of his skull. He shook his head, forcing the pain away. He couldn’t pass out in the middle of a battle. He refused to pass out at all.
Lorel yanked her sword free of the monster’s maw and stabbed at its eye. She missed by a hand’s width.
The creature wiggled backward. Blood stained the water around its mouth. Its slit pupils shifted from Lorel to Viper and back again. Blood sprayed over the boat as it hissed at them.
“Hunter not like becoming hunted,” Olgi’naifu whispered. “Watch. Bigger hunters come soon. Taste blood.”
“What’d she say, kid?”
He translated the words into Zedisti.
“Say ‘hunter’ for me again.”
What was the turybird up to? “Hantaa.”
“Come on, you hantaa thing.” Lorel waggled the tip of her long sword. “Let’s get this over with.”
The monster’s eyes focused on the bloody tip of her sword. Its spiked tail thrashed across the water. It rushed forward, opened its mouth, and roared again.
Its putrid breath nearly knocked him out of the skiff.
Lorel leaned over the side of the boat and swung. Her sword sliced off the end of the creature’s snout. Her shoulders plunged forward and her blade skimmed the river’s muddy surface.
Did the tu
rybird really want to go swimming with snakes and snaky monsters? Viper grabbed her shirttail and dragged her back into the skiff.
The hantaa bellowed. Blood gushed from its mutilated nose. It tried to swim backward, but momentum carried it closer to the boat.
She swung again. Her blade bounced off the creature’s skull. “Miswoven sword.”
“I never promised it would cut through everything.” Viper held his crutch up higher, but lowered it again. Who was he kidding? If Lorel’s sword didn’t stop the monster, what could he do?
She snorted, but grinned at him while keeping an eye on the hantaa. “Cuts through fraying near everything. I ain’t complaining.”
The hantaa thrashed, splashing, sinking, rising. Bloody water churned all around the boat.
The roiling river overbalanced Lorel, and she dropped down onto a bench. “Fraying monster. Come closer so I can smack you again.”
Jaws twice as big as the hantaa’s closed around the creature’s middle and drew it under the water.
“Don’t move, don’t talk,” Olgi’naifu whispered into the silence.
Viper translated under his breath.
Lorel rolled her eyes at him.
Throbbing pain sniveled up his leg. Fire burned in his foot. How long could he sit here without screaming?
After what felt like several days, Olgi’naifu dipped one oar into the water. When nothing bit its end off, she eased the other into the river. “Watch,” she whispered.
Lorel dipped her sword into the water, dried it on her shirttail, and sheathed it.
Pain vanished under this new evidence of her insanity. Viper held his breath. How long would it take for a monster to jump up and devour them?
She crossed her arms. “Ain’t nothing out there. Let’s go.”
The turybird would get him killed yet. He pinched the bridge of his nose, but translated.
Olgi’naifu closed her eyes briefly. “You hurt one little hunter. Many big hunters. All hungry. All smell blood.”
Lorel’s eyes got big when he translated. She drew her sword and peered down into the muddy river. “So let’s go before another one gets here.”
Viper rolled his eyes and translated.
Olgi’naifu shook her head and tried to smile at him. “How you survive so long?” She gingerly pulled on the oars.
A fish jumped out of the water.
Lorel’s sword cut it in half. Blood sprayed, and the fish bits dropped back into the river. “Oops.”
Viper giggled. She poked him in the ribs, but he couldn’t stop laughing. Living with the turybird was one big oops.
Olgi’naifu sank her oars deep into the river and pulled hard. Sweat poured off her skin long before they reached the shore. She scrambled onto the dock and stared down into the boat.
The deck was bloody. The benches were bloody. Their clothes were covered in fine droplets of blood.
The boat itself appeared undamaged.
Lorel sheathed her sword and stood.
Viper looked up at Olgi’naifu. “We’ll help you clean it.”
She laughed. “Is miracle my boat is whole. No clean now. I show off and eat on story for lunars.” She reached down and helped him out of the skiff.
Lorel handed up their gear. Was the turybird sick? Why didn’t she say anything?
Olgi’naifu pointed at a large hut. “Good tavern there. Go eat.” She turned and strutted off in the opposite direction.
“Ain’t you gonna pay her, kid?” Lorel glared down at him. “Don’t tell me you paid her ahead of time.”
“She didn’t want money. I think she can’t wait to get rid of us.” He picked up his pack and mandolin and settled them over his shoulder. “Come on, I’m starving.”
The mandolin case thumped against his hip with every swing of his crutches. Lorel grabbed its strap and yanked him to a stop. “I’ll carry that.”
“No way, bahtdor bait. You’re my bodyguard.” Pain radiated with his every movement, but it slowly retreated to a dull roar. “Try protecting me instead of getting me half-killed.”
She laughed and followed him down the muddy path.
Could this really be Moyara-Dur? All Zedisti streets were paved in stone. Even at its outskirts, the streets of Toranan-Yiet had been paved with crushed shells. Of course, Setoya didn’t have streets at all, so maybe he didn’t have room to complain.
The tavern reeked of fish guts and putrid peppers. Viper hesitated on the doorstep. Why had Olgi’naifu recommended it? Just to get rid of them? Though the place did smell a lot like her boat.
Lorel bumped into his back, but retreated immediately. “Weaver’s chamberpot, what stinks so bad?”
“The food must be better than it smells.”
“Like you believe that.” She turned and plodded down the muddy street. “I don’t like that old woman’s tavern, kid. I gonna find a better one.”
Chances were, all the eateries along the edge of town would smell the same, like the food the locals liked to eat. They’d need to head to the city center.
That suited him fine. He’d have a better chance finding a jeweler’s shop in a main market. He needed to know what kind of gems were sold locally. His new books all said buy from the source, where the goods were cheap, and sell at a distance for a profit. So far, that was the only point he honestly understood.
Lorel found a path covered with shredded, rotted bamboo. Did that mean they were in a better part of town?
Viper glanced over his shoulder and scowled at the filthy street. They must have wandered into the worst section of Moyara-Dur. He didn’t see anyone, not even the locals, but he’d had the feeling they were being followed ever since they’d left Olgi’naifu’s boat.
Lorel trotted ahead and stuck her head into a large wooden building.
He hoped it was an inn, or at least a public place. They’d be in trouble if he had to figure out how to bail her out of prison.
“Kid, listen,” she shouted. “This is a first-rate place. They speak Zedisti in here.”
“It looks pretty broken down to me.” Faded, peeling walls and barred windows made the building look like an abandoned prison. Even the ever-present moss refused to grow on it. Had she chosen the shoddiest tavern in Moyara-Dur?
“It’s lots better inside.” She strolled back and held one crutch while he wiggled out of his pack. “Come look.”
He sighed and stretched. “I wish you’d learn Duremen-Lor. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about what language was being used.”
“By the time I learned it, we’d be gone.” She shrugged and headed into the tavern. “Come on. I’m hungry. Hurry up.”
The room was crowded with locals. Maybe the food was decent, after all. Maybe. It reeked of dead fish and way too many spices. At least he didn’t smell any fish guts, and didn’t see any snakes.
The innkeeper was glad to serve them, after he’d seen Viper’s silver coins. The man spoke passable Zedisti, but the cooking was definitely Moyara-Dur.
Lorel sighed loudly when bowls of clams on rice, all smothered in curry, were served to their table, but she ate without complaint.
What had she expected? More peppers?
He’d have been happy with plain white rice. His stomach hurt most of the time, anymore. It was a battle to get each spoonful into his mouth. But Lorel would fret if he didn’t eat enough. She fussed too much as it was.
She smiled widely when the innkeeper brought them each a small flagon of beer. She saluted the room at large before sipping from her mug.
He tasted malt and hops, and his stomach lurched sideways. He pushed his mug at Lorel and picked at the rice under the clams.
“We’ve got to get new clothes,” he said when Lorel’s plate was empty of its second helping. “We look so ragged it’s a wonder we got served at all.”
“We’ll look worse before we get to the next town.” Lorel sipped at her beer. “Don’t worry about it. We don’t need to spend the money.” She snagged his cup, poured his beer into her mug, and push
ed the empty cup across to his side of the table.
“We don’t have any way of making money, unless we start a business or settle in somewhere.” Viper drew pictures of a mountain range on the table with one finger. He’d rather travel, but establishing themselves in one place would have advantages.
“I don’t wanna settle in nowhere. I wanna see the world.” She slurped from the bottom of her flagon. “If we leave town tomorrow, we won’t need no pretty clothes.”
He stared into his empty mug. Had he really drunk it all, already? He barely remembered tasting it. “I’ve been spoiled, I suppose. It bothers me that we look like beggars. But you’re right, we’ll stick with basic supplies.”
“So we gotta get going. No point in fretting on it. Come morning we’ll sell a couple of rocks. Or a couple of your silly books. Ain’t nothing to worry about.”
He glared at her. “Not my books.”
Lorel glanced at the tavern door. Her eyes widened. “Shuttle on the Loom, look who just showed up.”
Viper turned around and grinned, but tried to smother his laughter. “Well, if it isn’t our friend, the royal messenger.”
She snorted and glared at the swordsman.
The tavern keeper hurried to the messenger and bowed respectfully. He started to clear a crowded table of its patrons, but the newcomer shook his head and trudged to the large table where they sat alone.
The swordsman stood blinking a moment. “Hai, it’s you two,” he said in Zedisti. “How amazing. It couldn’t have taken you this long to get her off the island.”
Viper laughed. “No, we’ve been wandering the city, and trying to stay out of trouble.”
Lorel snorted.
He ignored her. “Come, share the table with us. Nobody else wants to sit with foreigners.”
The messenger glanced at Lorel.
“Sit, old man.” She scooted a chair at him with her foot. “You look ready to fall over.”
The swordsman grunted, but sat in the offered chair.
The innkeeper brought a pitcher of beer, plus a clean flagon for the messenger, and retreated into the kitchen.
Sorcery's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 2) Page 23
