“I know him. He sent you a note?”
“That were, or the mountains grew him.”
Savn had to stop and figure this one out, but Master Wag said, “May I see it?”
“To you be done, then,” said Fird, and handed a small piece of pale, almost white parchment to the Master. The Master, in turn, frowned, read it several times, and, with a look that asked permission of Fird, handed it to Savn.
At first, Savn mentally tsked at the Easterner’s penmanship; then he wondered how Vlad had written it. It had probably been done in wood-ash using a dagger’s point. It read: “Sorry I missed you I’ve been hurt ask Master Wag to bring you to me I’ll pay gold.”
Savn handed it back to Fird, while the Master asked, “How do you know him?”
“How? As one will know another. Gold he is offered to me, and then he is not where his promise is. I be curious, I be finding fruit in sack, I be finding note, I be reading, I be coming here. But you he is knowing, and this I be in wonder at.”
“He’s hurt, as he said,” said the Master. “I helped him.”
“So?” said Fird, shrugging. “He is hurt. I have mangoes and apples, which will cure like a physicker.”
“Maybe,” said the Master, sounding doubtful.
“Apples. Apple’s the thing. Where with to—”
“Savn here will lead you to him.”
“Master—”
“You think it’s a trick?”
“Well—”
“If His Lordship, or Speaker, or anyone else knows enough to attempt this sort of trick, it doesn’t much matter if we fall for it.”
“Not to us, but—”
“Think about it, Savn. Think about how much they would have to know.”
“Trick?” said Fird. “Is what this—”
“The Easterner,” said Master Wag, “is hurt because some people tried to kill him. Savn is concerned that—”
“Ah. Well, is to careful, then, but I—”
“Yes, I know,” said the Master. “Savn?”
“All right. Should we go now?” Both Fird and Master Wag nodded.
“I may join you later, to check on our patient, or else I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Very well, Master,” said Savn, and led the way out the door and down the road toward the Curving Stone.
He was saved from the necessity of deciphering Fird’s speech by the fact that Fird didn’t seem inclined to make conversation, and Savn, for his part, didn’t know what to say. Just past the Curving Stone he led the way into the woods, through them, and out over Bigcliff. Fird looked down with interest at the beach where, though he probably didn’t know it, Savn had first pointed him out to Vlad.
Savn still wondered what the Easterner wanted with the fruit-seller. As they approached the cave, Fird stopped, sniffed the air, and said his first words since they set out: “Norska is been roasted.”
Savn smelled it too, and repressed a chuckle. So much for the smell not getting out. “This way,” he said, and led Fird into the cave. “Can you make a light?”
Fird grunted, and a soft red glow filled the cavern. They went through the first, large chamber, and Savn led the way unerringly into the correct passage, and another large chamber. Here, even though Savn half expected it, he was startled by the flapping of wings as the jhereg appeared before him. Fird jumped, and his sorcerous light wavered for a moment as Savn said, “It’s all right, they won’t hurt us.” Fird didn’t appear convinced, but watched the jhereg closely and kept a short knife in his hand.
The jhereg flew around the opening for a moment, then disappeared.
“Is Easterner magic to tame carrion-eaters?” asked Fird.
“I guess,” said Savn.
Fird’s mouth twitched. “Then is onward.”
They continued, Fird ducking to traverse corridors that Savn was able to walk through upright, until they saw the flickering glow of the torches.
Savn called out, “Vlad? It’s Savn. Fird, the fruit-seller, is with me.”
There was a rustling sound ahead, and in the dim light Savn was able to make out Vlad turning his head. “Good,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“How are you feeling?”
“Weak. But a little better, I think.”
“Great.”
“Sorry I missed our appointment, Fird. Glad you got the note.”
Fird was watching Vlad carefully. He said, “Note is arrived, but the wondering is from its means of travel.”
“Does it matter?”
“Magic is that of the Easterner, is to wonder what else you is to have done or will do?”
“For one thing,” said Vlad. “Give you a certain amount of gold, in exchange for answering some questions. Have you been to—” He paused and looked at Savn.
“Would you like me to leave?”
“Please,” said Vlad. “I’m sorry, but I’d rather this not be overheard.”
Savn shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care, and, taking one of the burning torches, wandered back out of the cave. To his surprise, the larger of the jhereg accompanied him. He was even more surprised to realize that this no longer bothered him. Finding a comfortable-looking spot beneath a tree just outside the cave, he put out the torch and settled down with his back against the trunk. The jhereg perched on a low branch of the same tree.
Savn looked up at it, and it looked back, as if waiting for Savn to start the conversation. “I would like to know,” said Savn obligingly, “what they’re talking about in there.”
The jhereg stared at him with unblinking, reptilian eyes.
“And while we’re on the subject,” he continued, “I’d like to know how close the searchers are getting to this cave. If I knew how long we had, I—well, I don’t know what I’d do. But I’d like to know.
“And, since I’m asking questions, just what did Vlad do to Mae and Pae? I know, I know. He put a spell on them.”
He frowned and studied the ground between his feet. He’d known since last night that Vlad had enchanted them, but it seemed to take a long time for the fact to make its way into his bones. There was something so evil about doing such a thing—about magically clouding someone’s eyes, muffling his thoughts—that he couldn’t really think of it as something done by the Easterner lying helpless a hundred yards into the hill.
And the thought that, even now, Mae and Pae were under the influence of whatever spell Vlad had cast was utterly foreign to his emotions; he didn’t know how to look at it. The anger that ought to be his natural response simply wouldn’t appear.
He tried to imagine himself confronting the half-dead Vlad and telling him off for it, but his imagination failed. He thought about doing nothing until Vlad felt better, but that didn’t seem right either.
“What would you do?” he asked the jhereg.
It ducked its head under its wing and cleaned itself, then seemed to settle more fully onto the branch and looked around with, Savn imagined, an expression of mild curiosity.
“So, what am I waiting for? I’m not going to ask him about Mae and Pae. Why am I here? In case he has a relapse? But am I going to heal him after what he did? Of course I am; I can’t let him die.”
He stared at the jhereg, who seemed completely uninterested in his problems. He scowled at it. “What I should do is abandon Vlad and see what I can do for Mae and Pae. Sure. Good idea. But what can I do for them? They’ve been enchanted; I don’t know anything about enchantments.”
He stopped, feeling his eyes grow wide. “But Bless does. Bless knows all about curses of the gods, and whatever this Easterner did, it can’t be that bad. That’s it. Vlad can take care of himself; I have to find Bless.”
And, with no more reflection or questions, he stood and dashed off toward town.
Twilight made the outlines of the livery stable indistinct as Savn came up over the top of the hill. He stopped and surveyed the city. There were a few people on the outskirts, talking, as there always were; Savn could make out Tif from her posture and Boarder from his hair, and there were others he didn’t yet recognize. At the far end a few people moved about, but they were too far away to identify. However, he was certain he saw a two-horse wagon not far from Speaker’s, and Bless was one of the few (as was Savn’s family) who drove two horses.