Haven Magic (40 page)

Brand waited in increasing apprehension. He looked to Telyn, but she only watched Tomkin with the same fascination, if not quite the usual delight, that she displayed when in the presence of any of the Fae.

Tomkin whirled upon Brand, jabbing the frog bone at his eyes. “How many times hast thou wielded the axe?”

Brand blinked in surprise. He had expected a question about the strength of the Riverton Constabulary, or perhaps something about Myrrdin’s activities as the first question. “Ah, let me think….”

“No thinking! No fabricating! No deceptions!” screeched the manling. He bounded about from foot to foot upon the rocks now, the smoky firelight reflecting in his shiny black eyes.

“No, no. I just don’t recall right away. Let’s see, the first time was when I went looking for Telyn and found…ah, found her. The second time I almost wielded it against the wisps, but the spell was broken….”

“Wisps?” interjected Tomkin. “But did you wield it?”

“No…no, I wanted to, but didn’t. Then there was this last time, at the merling village…I’ve wielded it twice now, I guess.”

“Twice!” shouted Tomkin. He was hopping about now, extremely agitated. He slashed at the air with the frog bone and Brand had to crane his neck to follow his movements about their crude campsite. “Tomkin is a fool, thou ken! Tomkin will believe cats dance on pins! Tomkin wouldn’t know a lie if you yanked his furry ears, would he?”

“You don’t believe me?” asked Brand in surprise. “It didn’t seem such an amazing thing, after all.”

“Cheat! Liar!” screeched the furious manling. “Thou hast forfeited thy question! The game is at an end!”

“But he did wield it twice, Tomkin,” said Telyn gently.

Tomkin whirled to face her. In a single bound, he cleared the fire and stood in front of her. “Why should Tomkin believe the word of a troublesome woodwench?”

“Because it’s true,” she said simply and evenly, facing him without flinching.

Tomkin stared at her for a moment longer, and Brand felt an urge to defend Telyn. The axe twitched at his feet, as if to offer him a solution to his difficulties. He wondered if it truly sensed his emotions.

Brand held his anger in check again and soon Tomkin came back around to his side of the fire. He did it in three conservative leaps, almost hops, the last ending with him in a thoughtful sitting position back on the rock he had originally claimed.

“Do you believe me?” asked Brand.

“Ah, thou hast asked thy first question,” said Tomkin, eyes shining again.

“No, no,” said Brand. “I just wanted to know if we could continue now.”

“Tomkin will believe—for now.”

Brand thought for a moment. “What is the best course for us to rejoin our companions?”

Tomkin spread out his tiny hands in surprise. “First, find them. Then hail them as friends, and perhaps walk together out of this marsh.”

“That’s no answer!” barked Brand. “Look, if we are going to trade information, it must be done in a way that helps one another. If you want more from us, you must give me more than that. Remember, with all our party collected, the Jewel is doubtless safer from the Huntsman than it is now.”

Tomkin produced a tiny bright blade and set to work carving a frog bone. “Very well, thy friends are holding court, if such a thing it can be called, with the merling king. That is where to find them.”

“But which direction? How do we find them?”

Tomkin trimmed off the ends of the frog bone to form a hollow tube. He made an off-handed gesture. “Too much for one question.”

“I asked what course we should take,” argued Brand stubbornly. Again he felt a red heat rising up his neck. The creature was being almost as difficult as before.

“Follow the river upstream until it is but a trickle. It lies to the east.”

Brand sat back, taking a deep breath. Now all he needed was a night clear enough to see the stars and he could navigate his way back to his companions. Later, he might even be able to get out of this miserable swamp.

“Tomkin’s turn,” said the manling as he drilled a tiny hole into the white bone. “How many hast thou slain with the axe?”

Brand eyed him in surprise. Again, the question was not what he was expecting. The manling was busy with his flute, or whatever it was he was making, but Brand sensed his tension underneath. He really wanted to know the answer.

“I’ve killed two merlings, but no men.”

At his words Tomkin bared his teeth. They were as white and wet as the tiny bone he worked. “Two times. Two slain,” he said aloud. He shook his head as if in disbelief, but this time he didn’t call Brand a liar.

“My turn,” said Brand. “Is Myrrdin a prisoner, or is he free to go from the merling king’s court?”

Tomkin grinned. “A little of both, child of man. A little of both.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is not in a cage, but neither would he dare to leave right now from the king’s nightly feast table.”

“Is Dando with him?”

“Ah, ah, ah!” said Tomkin, shaking his head and tsking. “Mine question first.”

Brand sighed, but said nothing.

“Twice thou hast wielded Ambros, and twice thou hast slain with it. Clearly, thy will is great enough not to wield it now, though the urge is plain to see in thy gross hands. Hast thou ever put it aside, once wielded, by thy own will?”

Brand had to think again. “Yes, the first time I did. The first time, the axe urged me to kill Telyn, but I managed to let it fall from my grasp. The second time, Telyn aided me again by knocking it from my grasp.”

Tomkin tossed a curious look at Telyn, then slid his eyes back to Brand. “I see. Thou hast a second—as it must be.”

“A second? Oh, yes, Myrrdin did speak of that,” said Brand, rubbing his stubbly chin. “Since you seem to be so interested in the axe, I will ask about Lavatis. Had Dando already stolen the Jewel from Oberon when we met him in the hayloft?”

Tomkin’s demeanor changed as Brand spoke. Instead of casual interest, he now seemed intent on delivering his answer. He hugged his odd, knobby knees up to his body and stared at Brand. “Stolen is a tricksy word. The Wee Folk are ever accused on account of it.”

“But did he have it at that time?” repeated Brand.

“Of course.”

Brand nodded and smiled at Telyn. “That’s why he was there, then. He was on some kind of mission for the Wee Folk, he had the Blue Jewel, and even then was scouting out the Amber Jewel.”

“Do you think he meant to steal it, too?” she asked.

Brand shrugged. “Possibly, although I’m hard put to envision such ambition. The axe is dangerous and twice the size of any weapon the Wee Folk could hope to weild. Maybe he was just spying, or trying to aid us so that Herla didn’t have too easy of a time.”

“Perhaps we should just ask our friend here,” said Telyn, nodding to Tomkin.

“Turn and turn-about,” replied Tomkin to their questioning glances. “This turn is mine, river-boy. What odd tricks has the axe performed thus far?”

“Ever back to the axe,” sighed Brand. “Let’s see. It has tempted me to slay my friends—make that anyone I meet, if they seem unfriendly in the slightest.”

“And…?”

“And it flashes occasionally. It gives off a great flash of light that blinds everyone around but me.”

Tomkin nodded slowly. “The wink of Ambros’ Golden Eye,” he said. He gestured for Brand to continue.

“Well, that’s about it.”

Tomkin’s face wrinkled. “The crime of omission is as grave as any other!”

Brand shrugged, liking the creature less by the minute. He felt an urge to smash the manling, but contained himself. “It does seem to affect my emotions, if that’s what you mean. Right now I feel like cutting you in two.”

Telyn made a tsking sound, but Tomkin only chuckled. His next question he asked in a hushed whisper. “Does it ever
speak
to thee?”

Brand shuffled his feet and stirred the fire with a blackened stick he’d been using as a poker. “Not exactly.”

“Evasion!” accused Tomkin. He bounded up from the rock and flourished the flute he had fashioned from the frog bone. The tip of it he held leveled at Brand’s frowning eyes.

“Okay, yes,” said Brand. “I’d hoped not to mention it, but yes, it does communicate words to me, now and then. I’m not sure how.”

Tomkin nodded, calm again. He returned to his perch upon his rock and began to play his bone flute. While they listened to the odd, beautiful music, Brand and Telyn ate the rest of the toasted frog meat. The tiny notes warbled and thrilled, playing one lonely tune after another. None of them were known to the River Folk, but yet each seemed somehow familiar. It was as if wind, rain, sun and stones played the songs of their lives. Brand felt as though he had heard the music on every first fresh day of spring in this life, but always before with his heart rather than his ears.

Brand gave a start when the fire popped and sizzled while consuming a wet pocket in the peat. It had burned down low somehow, and looked like it was close to going out. Had he dozed off? He looked around in surprise. At first, he couldn’t see Tomkin at all, but then he spotted him, rummaging through Telyn’s gamebag. Then he thought of the axe. Had the little thief somehow made off with it? He looked down and was surprised to see that the straps of the knapsack were wrapped around his ankle. The axehandle was still there, sticking out of the cut flaps and resting on his shins like a sleeping pet. Brand couldn’t recall having put it there.

At his attention, the axe twitched—just a fraction of an inch—but it was enough to set Brand’s skin to crawling.

“Tomkin!” Brand shouted with great volume. He was gratified to see the manling give a startled hop. “What are you doing, man? You have another question to answer!”

Telyn, almost as startled as the manling, slipped and almost fell forward into the fire. She had been dozing with her chin on her hands. She shook her head and spotted Tomkin as well, making a sound of disgust. “That little trickster! He charmed us and now makes free with our meager supplies!”

Tomkin glared at them. “Tomkin had accepted thy invitation to dine,” he said sternly. “If that invitation is now withdrawn, then this meeting is now done.” So saying, he gathered up his flute and headed for the thickets.

“Not so fast!” shouted Brand. “You owe us a question yet!”

Tomkin made a dismissive gesture. “Not so. The first question was a gift. The game is at an end.”

“So! You have all the answers you care for,” said Brand slowly, putting it together as he thought Corbin might have. “Now you wish to skip out without honoring the last of the bargain. You seek to break your word.”

Tomkin reacted as if stung. “Have a care, river-boy,” the manling growled, showing his teeth.

“Will you answer our last question?” demanded Brand.

With poor grace, the manling returned to his perch. Glumly, he tossed the frog bone flute into the fire. To Brand’s surprise, it caught and flared up into a tiny blue eye of flame that soon burned away to nothing.

“Has Dando yet dared to touch the Jewel Lavatis, to wield it?”

Tomkin studied him intently for a time, cocking his head as if listening for something. He grinned then, showing those teeth that had tasted of both Corbin’s flesh and Myrrdin’s. “In truth, I can’t be sure. But I fear that he has. Lavatis is no less seductive than Ambros…perhaps it is even more so.”

Stunned by the detail and honesty of Tomkin’s reply, Brand was quiet for a moment, mulling it over. “Is the game at an end then, or do you wish to pose another question?”

Tomkin sighed. “The game is at an end.”

“Before you go, however,” spoke up Telyn, “I have another proposal.”

Tomkin eyed her curiously. It seemed that the offer of a bargain always intrigued the Wee Folk. Brand filed that fact away for future use.

“Speak, witch,” said Tomkin.

“I propose that you lead us to Myrrdin and Dando, that we travel together.”

Tomkin hooted with laughter. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He bounded about the camp, laughing derisively.

“Now hold!” Telyn shouted at the bounding form. “We have something to offer! Your freedom!”

Tomkin halted his bounding and sprang to alight before her. He crouched there, wiry knees bent as if to leap away again. “Speak!”

“I propose that if we reach Myrrdin, you will be freed of your geas.”

“Thou hast not the craft, witch!” screeched the manling, suddenly enraged. “Promise not that which thee cannot deliver!”

“Ah, but I think I can!” Telyn shouted back. “Brand here is the Axe-Bearer, the Champion of Ambros the Golden! You know this to be true.”

Tomkin whirled to eye Brand speculatively, then whirled back to face Telyn.

“We aren’t powerless. We will both swear to honor the bargain. I propose that we do all we can to break this spell, with Myrrdin’s help or without. I’m sure he will honor our agreement, in any case.”

Tomkin’s eyes slid back and forth. His hands moved up to his chest, but didn’t touch the bag that hung around his neck. It was plain that the thing pained him, that wearing it hurt his pride greatly.