Kestrel put the water skin away as Merilla rose to look at the boy as well, then he returned to stoop over her shoulder and look at him. “I think he looks better this morning,” Kestrel commented.
“I do too,” she agreed.
“I think we could just spend the day here, so that he could have a calm day to lie still and heal,” Kestrel suggested.
She turned to look at him, and Kestrel saw some of the trust in her eyes that he had seen before the incident. “Thank you, I’d appreciate that,” she told him.
“And thank you for saving him yesterday. When I saw him floating away down the river, I thought for just a second that I’d never see him again, that I was going to end up losing my whole family,” Merilla added. “I know that no other man could have saved him.”
Her words were meant to be generous, but ended awkwardly, and they both felt it immediately.
“If we’re going to stay here, I’d better do a couple of things,” Kestrel said, rising. He walked back to the horse and took his time unloading the animal of all its cargo, then took the yeti parts from their rancid bag, and set them out to dry in the sunshine. “I’m going to go hunting,” he told Merilla as he held up his bow and quiver soon thereafter, and he left the campsite in search of game.
He took his time in the forest, and after he finally shot a small deer, he gutted it in the woods, then dragged the carcass back to the campsite, where Merilla and Marco were playing. Kestrel re-dosed Jacob with more of the water, noting that his water skin was growing much lighter, then began to butcher the meat. He started a fire, and by midafternoon had several steaks on spits leaning above a bed of coals, roasting aromatically.
“How long do you think our journey will be?” Merilla came over to ask him as he sat and stared at the fire, thinking about Lucretia once again.
“I think it will take seven or eight more days,” he estimated, thinking of the maps and lessons he had studied during his time with Artur in Firheng.
“I shouldn’t say this, I know, after yesterday,” Merilla began, “but your ears look a little different today, I think. Maybe it’s my imagination.”
Kestrel looked at her with a blank stare, as he tried to imagine what might be happening. After several seconds, he finally responded. “Merilla, do you have a mirror packed away that I could use?” he asked, fearing the worst.
Without comment, she walked over to the pile of goods Kestrel had unloaded from the horse, and pulled a small velvet bag out. As she walked towards Kestrel she opened it and pulled out a shiny circle about as large as Kestrel’s palm, which she handed to him. He took the mirror and looked in it as he angled it to show his ears, and then his eyebrows. Without question, both features were returning to his natural state; his elven features were re-emerging, months earlier than Alicia had told him to expect them to. The changes were still subtle, but Kestrel knew what they were heading towards.
He sat back on his haunches, and dropped his head, as he handed the mirror back to Merilla. He had touched the healing water, and it was starting to work on him, he realized. He thought about the water he had used after fighting the yeti, and then the past two days when he had touched the water while applying it to Jacob. The water had worked on him, and had accelerated the healing of the surgical changes Alicia had made — changes that were expected to last for many months were coming undone in a matter of days because of the restorative powers of the water.
And he didn’t know if he was glad or unhappy. He hadn’t wanted the surgery; he had truly come close to harming Alicia in his anger and frustration over the changes she had made. Now her work was about to be undone, and he could return to his normal life as an elven guard. He should be pleased, he knew, by this fortuitous opportunity to retire from the spying business before he had even entered it. Yet he had already spent a great deal of time in his human guise, and grown accustomed to it. In these days with Merilla he had virtually thought of himself as a part of the human race, able to live intimately with this family and be concerned about their welfare, and feel no fears of entering Estone with them. He could be a spy among the humans, and he had already mentally made the transition to thinking appropriately for that mode, he realized.
He felt Merilla’s hand on his back, gently rubbing, trying to comfort him, and tears started to fall from his eyes. He wiped the tears away, then looked up over his shoulder at her and smiled. “I had surgery performed on my ears and my eyebrows to make me look this way,” he admitted. “But the healing water is doing its work so well on me that my body is overcoming the surgery. Based on this, Jacob should be back on his feet tomorrow.”
“Why?” Merilla asked simply.
Kestrel stood. “They ordered me to; they tricked me. They want me to spy on the humans who fight against elves. This was my training, to see if I could fight and speak like a human,” he admitted to her, feeling compelled to speak.
Merilla reached out and took his hand. “I never would have known. Your accent is a little odd, but not extreme. You really had me fooled, until I saw you running on the water; and I know you only did that for Jacob.
“I’ve never seen an elf before. I know they come to Estone, at least some traders do, and it’s not a big deal there. But I’ve never seen one before now,” she added.
“You’ve been at least as good to us as any human would have; you’ve got a good heart, Kestrel,” she told him. “Is that your real name, or is that phony too?”
“That’s my real name, my one and only,” he answered. He stood in silent thought, as Merilla watched him.
“I’m going to take you to Estone, that much is clear. Nothing’s changed about the fact that we’ve got all these yeti parts to sell to the market, and you’ve got two little boys you need to take care of,” he decided out loud. “And after that, I’ll go back home and try to figure out what comes next.”
They never talked about Kestrel’s heritage again. The next morning Jacob was substantially recovered, and they returned to their journey across the rough lands. Four days later they began to see scattered settlements, and their woodland pathways became county trails and lanes. After another two days they saw villages, then passed through small towns, and on the eleventh day of their journey they reached the walls of Estone in the middle of the morning.
“We’re supposed to go see a trader named Castona,” Kestrel told the guard at the gate, one who provided lax security for the traffic that entered and left the bustling city.
“Sure, he’s on the square by the north wharf, a big square with a statute of a mermaid in the middle. Ask around when you get there and someone will show you his shop,” the guard said idly, examining Merilla as he spoke.
They walked through the city, traveling slowly as they navigated the horse through the urban traffic that was crammed into the narrow streets. By the time they reached the northern square, they were past lunch time, and Merilla took her two boys in search of a food vendor as Kestrel entered the shop he had been directed towards.
The shop was shallow but wide, well lit by windows, and lined with shelves behind a counter. Kestrel banged the door noisily as he entered with the keg of blood on one shoulder and his bag of artifacts in his hand. He was thankful that the various extremities and organs had dried enough on the journey to no longer stink as badly as they had. In the open air they had been barely tolerable; inside a shop, before they had cured, they would have emptied the room.
Several patrons in the shop turned to look, as he found an open space along the counter and gladly placed his goods there in relief. A man behind the counter, one he assumed was Castona, looked up from another patron, then looked back to his business without comment, letting Kestrel wait uncertainly.