Airi got a box for herself, although hers was a smaller box and she left only three quarters of her gold there. The rest she had surreptitiously tucked into her saddlebag in a hidden pocket and some in her thieves’ belt as well back when they were at the inn.
Before they left the vault, Maxum turned to the vault manager.
“Tell me…as a banker you must know many people in this city, yes?”
“Of course,” the man said, looking incredibly bored with them.
“Do you know someone who knows the Songs of the Gods? Someone very old who has heard many songs?”
The man’s expression was blank and Maxum was about to repeat the query when he suddenly drew a breath and said, “Yes.”
“Well can you tell me where I might find him?”
“She is a mem at the temple of Kitari in the old quarter of the city.”
“A mem?” Maxum frowned. “Is there anyone else?”
“There are others I’m sure, but none that I know of. And mem Gia is the oldest woman alive in this city I’m sure and she knows all of the songs you could ever want to hear.”
Now that was strange, Airi thought. Hadn’t Dru told her that Maxum had had a fierce emotional reaction to hearing the Songs of the Gods in the past? Why would he be seeking them out now? And why was he so clearly set against anything to do with the gods one moment, but then wanting to hear about them the next?
“Very well. I guess she’ll do. Thank you for your trouble.” Maxum gave the man a great deal of silver and left.
“You really don’t care how much money you spend, do you?” she asked him, still incredulous over his wild spending habits.
“Not particularly.”
“Why? You aren’t going to be young forever you know. You aren’t going to be able to adventure once you’ve worn out your body. You spend money as if you have no future to worry about.”
“Why worry about the future when you can live in comfort now? Tomorrow I might be dead.”
“Not with that talisman you won’t.”
He looked at her from the corners of his eyes. “So you’ve figured out what it does?”
“For the most part. How does it work?”
“As far as I can tell, it keeps me from suffering any physical damage. But that doesn’t prevent a man from being struck with an ailment of the heart of some kind. Or any number of other ailments.”
“No, I don’t suppose it would. So what is your plan exactly? To move through the world impervious to outside harm and spending money frivolously?”
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
She growled with frustration at him. “Doesn’t anything matter to you?”
“Why does it surprise you so much? A thief is inherently selfish, it’s just inbred into you. Do you see me picking apart your nature?”
That stung. She didn’t know why, because in fact it was the truth, but it bothered her to have him thinking she was selfish. She needed to be selfish. She needed to take care of herself. No one else was going to do it so it was up to her. She had learned a long time ago, from a very, very young age, not to depend on others.
She was selfish because everyone else had proven they were selfish first.
“I’m just saying you should look to your future.”
“Maybe I don’t think I’m going to have a future,” he said, his tone coming across low and a little dark.
“Now why would you think that?” she asked.
“Never mind. Here’s the old quarter,” he said. “Let’s find Kitari’s temple.”
Airi wanted to pursue the topic, but it was clear he was shutting her down. She had to respect that. If their positions were reversed she didn’t know if she would want to talk about all her deepest darkest corners. It was probably best left alone.
They found the temple and she went to walk inside, but Maxum visibly hesitated on the step leading under the archway entrance. If she hadn’t known he was the sort of man who’d face down a dragon, she might have thought that was fear in his eyes. But she shook her head, thinking she was mistaken, and by the time she looked back at him the expression was gone and all that was there was steely determination. He crossed the threshold and then walked into the forechapel.
Airi stopped the first mem she saw and said, “We’re looking for mem Gia.”
The mem took her measure a moment, peering down at her from her significant height and down the blade of a long, strong nose.
“What do you wish of Gia?”
“We—”
“We were told she is the most pious of mems and we wish to pay tribute to Kitari through her,” Maxum talked over her. She found it curious that he didn’t just tell the mem the truth. But as she watched the mem’s hard stare she realized what he did—she wasn’t letting anyone close to Gia without some inducement. And right on cue Maxum said, “We are here to make a donation to Kitari…through mem Gia, of course.” Maxum untied his purse from his belt, hefting the coins with a jingle, then pulled open the drawstring and tipped the bag so the mem could see the gold inside. The mem’s eyes widened considerably. Since the mems lived solely through donations of food, cloth, and coin, such a contribution would be more than welcome and Maxum knew it.
But his whole purse? There had to be thirty gold coins in there! If the man was so bent on giving his money away he should just give it all to her and she’d be off to the Green Continent quick as a whip. As it stood that would leave him with only the coins in his saddlebags at the inn to pay their way for the rest of their trip…and who knew how long that would be or where it would take them? Sure, there was quite a bit there, but the way he spent money…
“Why yes…” The mem licked her lips. “You understand Gia is old and we usually don’t allow her to be bothered by penitents.”
“But we’re not your usual penitents,” Maxum said.
“No. No of course not.” The mem shook herself to attention. “Follow me.”
They did and the mem led them through the main chapel and into the dormitory wings. Mems dressed in the long flowing violet robes worthy only of the priestesses of the queen of the gods hurried to and fro around them. The robes they wore were of fine cloth, thick and with a soft sheen to them, and each mem wore a circlet of gold around her head, in reflection of their patron goddess’s stature among the gods. They also wore golden slippers. Clearly Kitari’s mems were well-off compared to some other mems in the temples of the other gods.
Each temple dressed their mems in a different way, according to their god, and each had different rules of conduct. But a lot of people had fallen away from worshipping the gods—and often he would see mems on the verge of being destitute and starving. These days if the temple wasn’t self-sustaining it did not survive for long. This temple seemed to self-sustain and then some.
They were led through a maze of corridors until they were brought to a door at the end of a long hallway. The mem lightly rapped on the door.
“Well, what is it?” a voice barked from inside.
“Some penitents for mem Gia.”
“Tell them to pray with someone else. Gia isn’t well today.”
“Um…” The mem cleared her throat and gave them an apologetic smile. “These are very special penitents, mem Collona.”
“Is it the king?” she asked, still through the door.
“Er…no…”
“Then tell them to go away!”
“Now see here, mem Collona,” she said, though with very little strength. Clearly she was intimidated by mem Collona. It made Airi wonder what she looked like if she could make this formidable woman quail in fear. “These are very special penitents.” As if stressing the word “special” this time would make the difference.
“Go away!”
“Enough of this,” Maxum barked. He grabbed for the door handle and shoved the heavy door open. He walked into the room boldly.
It was only a very quick set of reflexes that kept him from getting cracked in the skull by a heavy wooden staff. As it
was he got hit on the shoulder. The staff came around for a second blow and this time Maxum caught it and yanked it out of the gnarled hands of the mem swinging it. The mem stumbled with the force of the removal.
She righted herself by some small miracle before she spilled into a pile at Maxum’s feet like an old bag of bones.
And that was what she was. Old, stooped over at the shoulders, and as gnarled and bony as could be.
“Mem Collona I take it?” Maxum asked mildly.
“Who are you?” the mem barked. “Who do you think you are pushing into an old mem’s room like this?”
“My name is Maxum and I’m here to see mem Gia.”
“Gia isn’t seeing anyone ever,” the mem snapped.
“She’ll see me,” Maxum said.
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
Maxum hefty his bag of coins, giving them a jingle.
The mem snorted out a phlegmy laugh. “Is that supposed to impress me? I’ve had too much gold thrown at my feet in my time to be impressed by a heavy purse.”
Maxum eyed the mem dubiously. “You don’t say.”
“I do say. I see what you’re thinking, young man. You’re thinking I was always this old and ugly. Well, I’ll tell you this, I was once as beautiful as Kitari herself!”
“Mem Collona!” the other mem gasped.
“Well, it’s true. I was young and I was beautiful. Sexy as all too. I was known to tease a cock in my day.”
“Gia!” the other mem cried, completely horrified.
Understanding dawned in Maxum’s eyes.
“Mem Gia?” he asked.
“Gia Collona. Who’re you?” she wanted to know, peering hard at them.
“My name is Maxum. This is Airianne. We heard you know all of the Songs of the Gods. Even those that were forgotten.”
“Is that what you heard?” She reached out and snatched her staff back from Maxum’s hands. Then, contrary to that quick and strong movement, she used the staff to hobble over to a chair. She lowered herself into it with a creaking of her bones. “Well! Don’t just stand there gaping! Pull up a chair. I don’t sing like those fancy bards do. I tell stories. If you’re looking for a show go to the local inn.”
“I don’t need a show. Just some accurate songs.”
She peered at Maxum as he pulled up a chair. The old mem suddenly turned an icy glare on the other mem in the room. “What’re you standing there gawking for? I’m going to need some honey water for my throat. Seems like these two will keep me talking for a while.” The mem hesitated until Gia barked, “Move, girl!”
The mem exited hastily, closing the door behind her. Airi pulled up to a little table next to Maxum. Gia Collona had seated herself in a chair with rockers on it close to the fireplace.
“So what songs were you looking for?”
“Actually…local songs. Songs indigenous to this area. To the Black Continent in general as well. Songs about objects. Special objects imbued with special powers. Forged by the gods.”
Gia let out a raspy, gurgling cross between a laugh and a cough. “So that’s it! Treasure hunters! You think you’re going to find some kind of magical item to make you rich and powerful. Those are just tales, boy. No such real thing.” But as she said this she was giving him a sly sort of look.
“Not treasure hunters. Not really. But power, yes. And I know for a fact that those objects can be real.”
“How do you know this?” Again that sly look.
“I’ve found them.”
With that Maxum reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew the dragon’s ring. He held it up and it glinted in the sunlight. “Asharim’s Ring.”
Gia scoffed with a snort. But she was eyeing the ring carefully. “Says who?”
“What do the songs say Asharim’s Ring does?”
“Let’s see…” She made as if she were accessing an old memory, but it was clear to Airi she already knew. “Something about making Asharim invisible to his enemies’ eyes.”
“To all eyes,” Maxum corrected. Then he slipped the ring on and disappeared from sight.
If Gia was shocked she didn’t betray the emotion. Instead she poked at him with her cane, as if testing if he was still there, then waited for him to remove the ring again. Maxum did so and immediately came back into sight.
“So. You found the ring. One ring doesn’t mean there’s other treasures to be found.”
“That’s my worry. I just want you to tell me some of the songs you know. Someone like you may know some songs from back when I was a boy. Unfortunately I no longer remember the details, I never did pay attention. A fact I regret.”
“When you were a boy? That wasn’t that long ago. Do you know how old I am? I’m 103 full turnings old. And still got most of my teeth.” She snapped her teeth together in demonstration. Airi could easily imagine the old woman taking a bite out of some hapless person. “What about you, girl? You a treasure hunter too?”
“Right now I’m just following him.”
“Eh. Fucking him are you?”
“I am not fucking him!” Airi gasped with shock and affront.
“Yeah but you will be. You look good together. It’s probably only a matter of time.”
“I won’t be fucking him,” Airi said firmly—more for her benefit than for the old woman’s.
“We’ll see,” Maxum said, chuckling when she punched him in the arm. Hard. He didn’t even flinch. Damn that talisman. She was going to steal the thing from around his neck and then punch him right in the eye!
“That’s the way of it, eh? Well give in, girl! Give him the goods! You only live once, I say. Wish I’d done more fucking. Not much to fuck in a temple full of women. Anyway we’re meant to be chaste here in Kitari’s temple. But I wasn’t always at a temple in the middle of a big city. Yes, do your fucking while you still can, girl.”
“I really don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Airi said sullenly. Maxum chuckled and she punched him again. It didn’t hurt him, but it still felt good.
“Eh, the young are so stupid. Idiots. I was an idiot when I was young. Don’t take it too hard. So…songs. I got dozens of them.”
“Do you know the one about the four brothers and the fountain of immortality?”
“Ah yes!”
“Any one but that one. And I don’t need ones about Asharim’s Ring obviously. Or Filo’s Talisman. Other than that, I’m open to any that have a magical item in them.”
“Hmm…interesting,” she said narrowing her eyes on him. Then she sat back, rocked a little, and cleared her throat. “You want local? How about the ‘Tale of Isa’?”
“Isa? I haven’t heard of Isa before.”
“Ah, then sit back. This is a good one.”
Many ages ago there was a young maiden named Isa. She was just coming into her first blush, about her thirteenth full turning. She was the daughter of a miller and was made to walk the mule to turn the grindstone all day. She would walk when the rain made the ground slick and muddy. She would walk when the sun beat down on her. She had to walk through the mule’s droppings and often smelled of horse dung.
Because of this the other young people of the village would make fun of Isa, making up chants about how she smelled bad. So Isa would go to the stream every day and wash the smell from her body and her clothes, but to no avail. The young people still teased her.
Isa despaired over this because she was of age now to begin to think of finding a husband. But who would want a girl who smells of mule droppings as a wife? The only way was to tell her father she would no longer walk the mule. But when she dared to tell her father this he beat her until she was black and blue all over.
“Until you can make me a rich man, you will walk that mule until you drop from exhaustion!” he said.
Then he sent her out to walk the mule around the grindstone.
That night, in the cover of darkness, Isa thought to escape her father’s house. She was terrified he might catch her if she ran away. He would never st
op looking for her since she was free labor and because she was passably pretty she might marry into a wealthier family than theirs was and keep him in comfort in his old years. Isa’s father, you see, was not very bright. He was a selfish man who only thought of himself.
But Isa didn’t see how she had much of a choice, so she left her father’s mill that night with nothing but a few slices of bread, two silver coins she had saved up, and the clothes on her back.
Isa ran through the woods, avoiding all of the roads, knowing her father would be looking for her there the minute he realized she was gone. She followed the stream so she wouldn’t get lost or turned in circles.
After a time Isa stopped to rest and eat one of her slices of bread. As she sat to do so an old woman came out of the trees and sat beside her on the grass.
“Well, child,” the old woman said. “Have you a slice of bread for an old woman?”
Isa didn’t know what to do. She only had two slices of bread and two silver and she would need that bread to eat later on when she got hungry. But as she looked at the poor old woman she could tell that she was very hungry so she gave up her slice of bread to the old woman.
“Thank you, child! That was the best bread I’ve ever had!” the old woman said when she was done. “But the best foods are those we eat when we are most hungry.”
Then the old woman got up and walked away.
“I must get going,” said Isa and she stood up and ran along the stream for a long while. The day ended, but Isa did not stop, wanting to put many miles between her and her father. She didn’t know what she would do, but she knew she couldn’t go back unless she had enough money to make her father rich enough to let her live her life free of the drudgery of milling. And, despite all his bad character, he was still her father and she loved him and was loyal to him.
“I must make my own way in the world and one day return to him and take proper care of him.”
As she traveled on she began to grow hungry and should have regretted giving away her other slice of bread, but it had made the old woman so happy that she could not feel too badly about it. Instead, when it grew light enough to see, she found some berry bushes and used her small purse to hold as many berries as it could then sat down beside the river to enjoy them. Just as she was about to eat a young child appeared. The child was a thin little waif with dirty clothes and a smudge on his cheek.
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