“Mondivinaw’s not like that?”
“Well, he is. Once he caught a poacher and kept her alive for weeks by feeding her bits of her flesh. But I won’t let him do anything to you.”
“Thanks.” I walked the rest of the way thinking that I had lived a full and interesting life, and that while I had expected to end it in many places, I had never expected to die while visiting an old man’s sickbed. Telling myself that death now would end the threat of facing another of Dovriex’s breakfasts did little to soothe me.
One of the twins met us outside Mondivinaw’s door. “Sivifal?” I said.
The redhead nodded, then stepped back so Naiji could enter. There was a long moment of silence until Naiji called, “Rifkin! Come in!”
I entered and bowed to Mondivinaw. He had been propped up with several pillows, but I did not think he looked well. His left side was dead; his right was frantic. His bloodshot right eye twitched furiously, and he gestured like an epileptic with his arthritic right hand. “Lord,” I said.
Naiji smiled slightly. “My father says...” She paused with an actor’s sense of drama, or else a torturer’s. “... that he hopes the great lord will forgive his presumptions.”
Confused, I frowned, and Mondivinaw’s twitchings grew worse. Naiji added with veiled amusement, “My father says he is physically incapable of abasing himself, though he would if he could, and that he knows too little of subservience to speak as humbly as he should. He hopes...” Her eyes flicked to Mondivinaw, then back to me. “... no, prays that the great lord understands and accepts this.”
The old man’s living eye seemed to plead with me. That told me Naiji’s words were not some cruel whim of her own. I nodded numbly at the old man. I tried to swallow, thinking to speak, but my throat was dry.
Naiji said, “My father is infinitely grateful that the great lord—”
I shook my head.
Her voice began to mirror some of her father’s concern. “He hopes he has not offended—”
“No,” I said gruffly, wanting to leave. “He has not.”
“He says the great lord should consider this castle his own.”
“Lady—” I began.
“He says we will all serve the great lord as best we can.”
“Naiji!” I said. “Damn it, I’m no great lord!”
Her eyes went suddenly wide in true surprise.
“Nor can I play one,” I added.
She shook her head. “Rifkin, he knows that. He wasn’t talking to you.”
‘To...“ I looked from father to daughter.
“Yes,” said Naiji.
After a long moment I said, ‘Tell him...“ I searched for a way to say what I felt, and I thought about what sort of man this old witch must be, and I thought about his son, and I thought about Izla.
“Da hears, Rifkin. He just doesn’t speak.”
“I know that, damn it!” I crossed to his bed in two steps. “Listen, you...” The fear in his eye made me gentler, but not much. “Old man, I wish to help you and your family. Not for your sake. And any gods that may be, know it’s not for Talivane’s sake, either. But I wish to help you. I, Rifkin Boundman, not the wizard who lives in my head. And I will help you, if you don’t oppose me. But if you do, I’ll unleash him, understand me? I’ll unleash him and he’ll make every agony you’ve ever endured seem like pure bliss. Understand me? Damn you, understand me!”
Naiji grabbed my shoulder. “He understands, Rifkin!”
“Great lord,” I sneered, glaring at her. She drew her hand back. “Great lord, my callused ass! I served that spoiled child for two—” I saw that her fear almost equaled her father’s. “Forget it,” I said. “Just forget it.” I stalked out, and as I went, Izla whispered Well done.
“Shut up!” I cried. Both of the twins were in the hall, and they glanced at me as if they expected madness from southerners but wished it came as a quieter, more discreet insanity.
I picked a hall and walked. Someone followed me. I turned at random, and my follower turned, too, then we both took a flight of very dusty stairs. At the top I told myself that I had been indulgent enough for a lifetime or two, perhaps I should play at intelligence for a minute. I had believed this was Naiji coming to comfort or confront me, but if it was an assassin instead, I would feel very stupid in the moment before I died.
It was Naiji. She stopped midway up the stairs and said, “Well?”
“It’s all right.”
“He’s an old man.”
“He’s a vicious, stupid, and cowardly old fool. I’ve known a thousand like him. Rich, protected, selfish—”
“He’s my father.”
“So? You were happy to let him suffer while he thought Izla controlled me.”
“I thought life would be easier for both of us if Da tried to be humble for a week or two.”
“I couldn’t have pretended to be what I’m not.”
“Because of your pride?”
“Because I’d have to give a demonstration of my power. For Talivane, if not for Mondivinaw. Not having any would make that a little difficult.”
“Maybe so. You still didn’t have to throw a snit.”
“A snit?” I stared at her. “Sometimes I don’t think you’re human.”
“I’m not. I’m a witch.”
“You should be human first, no matter what common folk say.”
“Spare me your patronizing tone, hmm?”
We stared at each other for a long moment. “If you spare me,” I said at last, beginning to smile.
She frowned, then nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Rifkin.”
“I’m sorry too. What do you want to do about your father?”
“Let him worry. It’ll be good for him.”
“Do you have Harvest Fest in this region?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I want to nominate you for the Queen of Kindness.”
She laughed again. “All right, Rifkin. I’ll go tell Da to stop sweating.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’ll remind him that Izla could escape.”
“Fine.” I watched her descend, then rushed after her.
“Forget something?” she asked.
“Yes. My way back.”
She sighed. “And this is the defender I found in the woods.” She squeezed my hand, so I held hers, and we returned the way we had come. Talivane stood outside Mondivinaw’s room, and Naiji dropped my hand when she saw him. “Brother!”
He turned. “Where’ve you been? They said you and Rifkin...” He studied me with a sneer.
“We were checking one of the abandoned wings,” Naiji said. “It seems secure.”
“I should imagine it would be.” He continued to look at me. “My father thinks you’re a great witch, Rifkin.”
“I’m not.”
“Chifeo said you were one too.”
“He was wrong.”
Talivane nodded. “Odd how these rumors spread so quickly.”
“Rifkin’s as loyal as I am,” Naiji said.
“Of course,” Talivane answered. “He’s bound to you. But how loyal are you, dear sister?”
Naiji’s brow furrowed in anger or confusion. “What do you mean?”
“What I said. I thought you believed in our cause, yet you hesitate—”
“I need time, Talivane.”
‘Time that you spend with that...“ He pointed at me.
“Careful,” I said. “I might bite.”
“That...” His finger continued to waggle, so I snapped at it. He snatched it back and said, “That little dark monkey of a boundman!”
‘Talivane?“ I said.
“Yes?”
“Bite my banana.”
The whites of his eyes were huge around his grey-green pupils. “Rifkin, you—”
Naiji snatched at his arm. “We need him, dearest. Truly. There are more reasons than you know.”
“Oh?” Talivane said coldly.
“Father’s not entirely wrong.”
>
“I don’t like a mystery.”
“I’ll tell you more later. Trust me.”
“Can I?”
She nodded.
“Come with me.”
Naiji glanced from Talivane to me. I said, “I’ve things to do.”
“I’ll see you later, then,” she said.
Talivane shook his hand as though brushing me away. “Go, monkey.”
“What a wit,” I said. “How could I ever equal it? Perhaps if I hit my head repeatedly with a rock for half a day? Or if you locked me in a room with only Avarineo for company for ten years—”
“Go,” Talivane said. “You have an archery class to teach.”
“Oops.” I waited a moment, mostly because he wanted me to leave. “Any news of Komaki?”
“His troops are moving,” Talivane said. “They’ll probably be here by mid-afternoon.”
“And what’s his wealth?”
“Why?”
“I’ve been wondering if he might send more Spirits.”
Talivane shook his head. “He wouldn’t bother to bring his army, then. And I doubt he intends to impoverish himself in this war.”
“Good.” I left for the courtyard.
Feschian had already set up three bales of hay by the gate and draped each with a sheet that bore the outline of a helmeted warrior. Most of the castle’s inhabitants who did not regularly serve on the guard were lined up to take shots at the target. There were perhaps fifteen people in all. Kivakali was among them. They took turns shooting, three at a time with five arrows each.
Feschian nodded to me. “Afternoon, Rifkin.”
“It’s morning, still.”
“Why, so it is. You’re up early.”
“I’ve been up for almost two hours.”
“Got lost again?”
“I was busy. I forgot about this.”
She nodded. “We’ll stop soon. I don’t want to tire them out.”
“Wise.” I nodded at the shape-changer, who had put two arrows into the left target. “He’s not bad.”
“Fat Cat? He’s supposed to be shooting at the middle one.”
“Oh. What about the rocksmith?”
“I told her to shoot at the left figure. If she didn’t decide to try another, she’s doing well.”
The next group began. The fencer placed five shots in as many seconds into the center of his target. “I’m glad he’s on our side,” I said.
“Yes. Iron Eyes isn’t bad.”
“An odd nickname.”
“His strength lies in hexing. Other witches, as well as commoners.”
“Iron... I see.” Kivakali took the fencer’s bow from him to send an arrow into the wooden gate. “Excuse me,” I told Feschian and went to Kivakali. “Lady,” I said.
She blushed. “Rifkin, I’m so—”
“You shoot well,” I said. “It’s merely a matter of concentration.” I reached for her bow. “May I?”
“Certainly.”
“You worry too much about the mechanics of shooting. Think only of the target.” My arrow buried itself in the circle that marked the painted warrior’s heart. I gave the bow back to her. “That isn’t to say you can ignore the details. If you’ll permit me...” I stepped behind her to show her as I would a child, so both our hands gripped the bow and the string. “Full extension. Let the far end rest lightly on the fingers holding the bow. The other hand holds the string, not the arrow. Think of the arrow as a bird, and clumsy human hands will injure it. Think of the target as someone you hate. The arrow is a messenger. Its message is death. Understand?”
“Yes.”
I let go of her bow, so Kivakali was no longer in my embrace. “Good. Send it. Now!”
She hit the target. Her arrow was outside the warrior’s outline, but it was in the target. “Better,” I said. “Again.”
Two of her next three shots were killing ones. I wondered who she pictured as she aimed.
She smiled at me. “Thank you.”
“It’s my job, Lady.”
“From what you said last night, I wouldn’t expect...”
“Yes?”
“Well, you suggested I think of killing.”
“I thought it would help your shooting. It did.”
“That’s all?”
“It’s what you’ll be doing, if your father attacks.”
“I know. But—”
“Later, Lady. This is no time for philosophy.” I bowed to her and returned to Feschian.
“Well done, Rifkin.”
“Thanks.”
“You have a way with the women of this castle.”
I glanced at her, but Feschian only smiled and watched the next archers.
After half an hour I had them stop for a few simple exercises, then took them all through a long period of meditation.
“What next?” I asked Feschian.
She shrugged. “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”
I dismissed the class, telling them to go rest, if they could. I went to find Dovriex. He was in the kitchens, honing his knives. “Something I said?” I asked. He flipped the one he held, and it quivered in the door beside my head. I reached out to withdraw it. “Whatever it was, I apologize.”
Dovriex smiled. “Don’t bother. I just wanted to see if you’d blink.”
“If you’d asked, I would’ve blinked for half an hour.” I flipped the knife back into a cutting block near him. “You blinked too.”
“Something in my eye. If you came for a snack, you’re out of luck.”
“No.” I sat cross-legged on a counter. “I came to ask about Kivakali.”
“Talivane doesn’t like her, but he won’t let anyone else have her.”
I thought I heard regret behind his joking tone. “Not that. What do you think of her?”
“I think she does well in a difficult situation.”
Subtlety was never my strength. “Do you think she’d try to kill Talivane?”
He glanced up. “Why do you care? I thought your bond—” He seemed more curious than annoyed.
“If she tries to kill Naiji as well, I’m concerned.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Someday I’m going to tell someone something, and he’ll say ‘Rifkin, that’s brilliant!’ The shock will probably stop my heart.”
“Hmm.” Dovriex plucked the knife from the chopping block and returned it to its sheath with a spin that, had I tried it, would have opened every vein in my wrist.
I said, “Only the insecure need to show off.”
“True. But when I think of the unkind things you’ve said about my meals—”
“Every one was an understatement.”
“Maybe.” Dovriex smiled, then frowned. “I might understand why Kivakali would kill Talivane. Why Naiji as well?”
A number of wooden mugs were drying on the counter. I picked up three to juggle as I talked. “If only Talivane died, everyone would suspect Kivakali had a part in it.”
“Hmm.” Dovriex stepped back to a basket of eggs. In seconds he had four circling through the air in front of him. “It’s true that if both Gromandiels were killed by the Spirits, no one would suspect Kivakali. But by that argument, why should she stop with Naiji?”
I snatched up another mug and worked it into my juggling. “For economy’s sake,” I said.
“Makes some sense,” Dovriex said. He added a fifth egg to his pattern. “But the other could just as well be Mondivinaw, then.”
“Maybe.” The mugs now went behind my back on every second toss. “Except that an enemy of the witches wouldn’t worry much about an old man.”
“Their mistake.” Dovriex added two more eggs, and I decided not to watch him anymore.
“Perhaps. Perhaps they’ll try to kill Mondivinaw also,” I said. Doubting it was wise, I got a candlestick going with the mugs. The balance was tricky. “Still, Naiji’d be the logical choice to divert suspicion.”
“Granted,” Dovriex said, then added in a softer ton
e, “Nine.”
“Show-off,” I said. “So what do you think?”
“I think you’ll drop them in thirty seconds, at most.”
“About Kivakali.”
“Oh. I like her. I’d rather—” He began to laugh as the mugs fell. The candlestick was definitely a mistake.
I looked at Dovriex. Nine eggs still circled through the air. Without any encouragement from his hands.
“You bastard,” I said.
He laughed. “Some people can’t take a joke.”
“You lousy witch bastard.”
“Want to see what else I can do with these eggs?”
“Send any this way and I’ll eat them.”
“Oops.” He let them settle back in their basket.
I said, “I thought you couldn’t do tricks like that.”
“I couldn’t, before. I think it’s from the strain of knowing that Komaki’s coming. Everything seems more...” Dovriex held up his hands like he wanted to grab something. “... more intense. Time moves differently, in spurts rather than a flow. Know what I mean?”
“Too well.”
“I started to drop one of those eggs earlier, and it just stopped in midair when I wanted it to. I’ve been studying levitation for years, and today...” Dovriex shook his head. “It worked. Just like that.”
“Great,” I said. “You can throw eggs at Komaki’s men. Hey! Your knives...”
Dovriex nodded. “They’re steel. This must be another exception to the laws of iron, but I don’t know what the trick is. I’ve been near steel, cooking things for years, and all of a sudden, I can do a tiny bit of magic.”
Interesting, Izla whispered. I bit my lip, then said, “How long until lunch?”
“Who said there was lunch?”
“Oh. Will there be dinner?”
“Yes.” He smiled cruelly. “Warmed—”
“Don’t tell me, man! Let me dream a little, eh?”
“Sure. It’ll be better than—”
I ran from the kitchen with my ears covered. One of the twins walked by, peering at me from the corners of her eyes. “Ah, hello, Sivifal,” I said.
“Livifal.”
“Of course. Sorry.” Feschian was right. I was making quite an impression on the women of this castle.
One task remained. I found the armory, where a glum fellow stood guard. “I’m here to look at the musket,” I told him.
“A student of rust, eh?” He pointed. “So, look.”
Will Shetterly - Witch Blood Page 15
