Bone Magic (4 page)

The sun was
just past its peak when the forest ended and a farm appeared on
their right, a man and his wife in the distance, planting seeds.
Shortly after that, the neglected dirt road gave way to a
well-maintained road of gravel. They passed several farms in a row,
and met a couple of little boys driving a cow up the road in the
opposite direction. The boys were too shy to speak to them, moving
to the far side of the cow as they passed.

Soon after
that, a town appeared before them. It was surrounded by a stone
wall, little more than waist high. That told Tira they were more
worried about goblins than anything else. The town gates were
propped open and unguarded.

They drew some
stares as they walked through the streets. This town was well off
the beaten track. It was a nice enough place, many of the buildings
made from stone, with a grassy meadow in the middle of town
surrounding a flagpole.

Wide streets
led off in four directions from the town square. Tira handed her
reins to Tam and said, "Wait here. I'm going to take a look
around."

He nodded
absently. Everything about the town seemed to amaze him, from a
two-story inn to a livery stable. Tira walked off, shaking her head
in quiet amusement. It was an inconsequential little nowhere town,
but it was clearly the biggest place the boy had ever seen.

She took the
street that led toward the river, expecting to find a bridge.
Instead, she found a low wooden tower on each bank with a couple of
thick ropes stretched between them. There was a ferry boat with a
short mast, and a system of pulleys on the mast that connected to
the rope. On the far side of the river she could see a shack near
the tower, and a road, but no other sign of human activity. It was
all unbroken forest.

The ferry, a
flat-bottomed boat with low gunwales, was on the near side, and she
strolled down to the dock. A couple of men were loafing in the
sunshine, one man whittling, the other napping with his hat pulled
low over his eyes. The wood carver squinted up at her and smiled.
"Looking to cross the river, Miss?"

"In a little
while," she said. "Will you be here long?"

"I'm always
here," he said gloomily.

Tira gave him
her best smile. "Then maybe you saw my cousins. Have you taken any
children across the river in the last few days?"

"You mean
strangers? I haven't had any strangers in, oh, a long time."

"I guess I got
here first," she said. "I'll just wait for them, and we'll all
cross together."

He shrugged,
and she left him there, heading back into town.

The fattest
woman Tira had ever seen was selling river fish from a cart in the
town square. Tira sauntered over, complimented her on the fish, but
declined to buy any. The woman was bored and happy to chat with her
regardless.

Tira pointed to
the street leading east. "Where's that go?"

"It just keeps
following the river," the woman said. "It's not a very good road.
They don't maintain it, on account of no one uses it really. You
keep going about fifty miles, there's a bridge, and they've got a
town there." She curled her lip in disdain. "Willan's Crossing,
they call it. It's not as big as this place."

"Ah, I see."
Tira gestured at the street leading south. "How about that
way?"

The woman
shrugged. "There's some farms out that way. The road sort of peters
out when the farms end." She peered at Tira. "How come you don't
know where anything is?"

"I'm just
passing through," said Tira. "Actually, I'm here to meet my
cousins. Have you seen some men traveling with three children?"

The woman
cackled. "You're the only strangers that have been through here in
quite some time." She seemed to think the question was hilarious,
and kept on laughing as Tira edged away.

Early afternoon
found Tira and Tam behind the livery stable, squatting in a circle
with three local workingmen, rolling dice. A complete lack of money
made dice games a risky proposition, but Tira had a system that had
kept her from going hungry on several occasions in the past. It had
also sent her fleeing for her life once, and once gotten her beaten
and chucked into a river, but it worked more often than it failed.
In an isolated town like this, far from the grifters and sharps of
the world's great cities, she was almost certain that she couldn't
lose.

"Okay, that's a
crown and a cup, which brings your points to three and my points to
five. Your turn to roll, so…"

"Now, hold on,"
said the ostler, frowning. "You said two of a kind was better than
one and one."

"Right, sorry,"
said Tira smoothly. "Your points are five and mine are three.
That's what I meant." She scooped up the dice and pressed them into
the ostler's hand, and he dumped them into the cup, giving her a
suspicious glance as he started to shake.

Feet scraped
the ground behind Tira, and she hid a frown. This ridiculous town
was so boring that a dice game was drawing an audience. The more
people who watched, the more likely it was that someone would catch
her making up the rules as she went along. Then she caught an odor
of fish, and turned her head.

The fat woman
from the town square stood watching, leaning one elbow on her
now-empty cart. "I thought you were going," she said.

"What do you
mean?" Tira asked.

The woman
shrugged. "Your cousins just went across the river."

Tira jumped to
her feet. "Three children?"

"Well, there
was a wagon," she said. "I think I heard children inside. Crossed
on the ferry ten minutes ago."

Tira looked at
Tam, and the two of them took off around the livery stable at a
run. The ostler and the other two men from the dice game followed,
complaining loudly. Tira ignored them, untying Daisy from hitching
rail and hurrying through the town square.

"Now, hold on!
You owe me three coppers, by my count."

"You owe me
five," chimed in another voice.

"What are you
trying to pull?"

She hurried up
the street to the ferry dock. The ferry was on the far bank, the
crew loafing in the sunshine. There was no one else in sight.

"Damn it," said
Tira. "We need to get across."

"That could be
awkward," murmured Tam. She knew what he meant. They had been
counting on winning at dice to pay for their passage across the
river.

Staying where
they were at, though, was going to be difficult as well. The ostler
dropped a hand on Tira's shoulder, thrust his jaw out, and leaned
in close. "You're not going anywhere," he said. "Not until I get my
money."

"I don't have
your money," she said, and his face darkened. She pointed back up
the road. "He has your money."

The ostler
turned to look, and she punched him hard just under the ear. Tam
was already swinging into the saddle as the ostler dropped and Tira
sprang onto Daisy's back. The mule, caught by surprise, broke into
a run for once, and Tira ran her straight for the river bank. Tam
was galloping along right beside her. "I'll meet you on the other
side," she said. "On the road. Good luck!"

Then Daisy
thundered down the river bank and into the water. The river looked
deep and fast. She was hoping it wasn't as bad as it looked, and it
wasn't. It was worse. Daisy lost her footing almost immediately,
and let out an indignant bray as she started to swim. Tira slid out
of the saddle, cursing at the icy grip of the water, and caught
Daisy's tail. After that there was little she could do except hold
on.

She'd had a
vague thought of angling Daisy upstream, getting her to swim
against the current so they would reach the far shore somewhere
close to the road. She abandoned that plan immediately. The current
swept them out of sight of the ferry crossing and the town in
moments.

Daisy swam
frantically, and Tira helped as best she could by kicking her feet.
Her boots filled with water and dragged her feet down. Her leather
coat and the sword at her hip wanted to pull her to the bottom. It
became harder and harder to keep her chin above the water, and
errant waves slapped across her face, making her choke and
sputter.

Her hat fell
off, and floated for a moment beside her. It was a good hat, and
she wanted to reach for it, but she couldn't bring herself to take
a hand from Daisy's tail. She watched in mute frustration as the
hat slowly sank through the water and disappeared.

The far bank
was a green blur, a line of unbroken forest sweeping past at
terrifying speed. It seemed impossibly far away, and Tira ignored
it, concentrating on each kick of her exhausted legs, each wave
that threatened to drown her.

Her hands
burned with cold, then went numb. She could no longer feel Daisy's
tail, but she felt a sudden sideways tug and watched in horror as
Daisy's tail was yanked from her hands. She floundered, splashing
madly with her hands, and something thumped solidly into her ribs.
It was a fallen tree, and the force of the water pressed her
against the trunk with frightening strength. The water was
shoulder-deep, but it formed a standing wave against her neck and
the side of her head. Water swirled around her mouth, and she hung
there, thrashing uselessly, fighting a rising panic.

Her foot,
flailing, brushed against something.

She probed
downward with her toe. Yes, that was stone somewhere beneath her.
She tilted her neck until her nose was above the water, took a deep
breath, and made herself look around.

The riverbank
was no more than a dozen feet away. She was pressed against the
wet, slick trunk of a tree that had toppled into the river when the
river undercut the bank. Half of the roots jutted into the air
where land met water. The trunk sloped down from the bank,
disappearing beneath the water, pressing into her side where her
ribs ended.

The tree was
thick with branches, and she wrapped her hands around branches on
either side of her and used them to lever herself upward until her
head was clear of the water. She thought about climbing onto the
trunk, but she feared the water would sweep her off and carry her
downstream. Now that she had a connection to the bank, the thought
of being helpless in the current again terrified her.

Instead, she
clung to the branches, shifting only one hand at a time as she
worked her way sideways, inching closer to the shore. She had to
take a deep breath and duck under the water to pass beneath one
thick branch, but when she was past it, she could feel solid stone
under both feet. With the current pushing on her legs, her footing
on the slick rocks of the riverbed was treacherous to say the
least. She hung onto the branches with a death grip, working her
way sideways one careful step at a time.

Step by step
the pull of the current lessened, and her footing became more
secure until at last she could let go of the branches and stumble
ashore. She sank to her knees, her whole body trembling, and rubbed
her hands together while she waited for strength to return to her
limbs. At length she realized that she wasn't getting stronger. She
forced herself to her feet, looking around for Daisy. Her flint and
steel were in Daisy's saddlebags, and she wanted a fire
desperately.

The sun had
gone behind clouds, and she was shaking so hard she could barely
stand. Her teeth chattered and her brain felt sluggish. She stared
around, trying to figure out if the mule would be upstream or
downstream, and a whiff of smoke came to her nostrils. She froze,
wondering if her cold-addled brain was deceiving her, and she
caught another hint of that wonderful scent.

The wind was
coming from upstream. She staggered through the thick undergrowth
that lined the river's bank and turned her face into the light
breeze. She stumbled forward, hoping against hope, but the scent of
smoke seemed to have disappeared.

Something
rustled in the trees to her left. It was Daisy, head down and
woebegone at the river's edge. Tira stumbled down the bank and
freed Daisy's reins from a tangle of branches.

A clanking
sound came from somewhere upstream. Tira cocked her head to the
side, listening. She heard another clank, and then a steady
metallic tapping. She looked at Daisy, shrugged, and led the mule
toward the strange sound.

She caught
another whiff of smoke as she walked, and then the wonderful sound
of branches crackling in a fire. She tugged on Daisy's reins,
stumbling forward, and finally staggered into a clearing where Tam
stood beside a small fire. He was tapping a spoon against the
bottom of his cook pot, but he stopped when he saw her, his
shoulders sagging visibly as tension drained away.

Tira didn't say
a word, just peeled off her sodden cloak, draped it across the
ground, and dropped to her knees beside the flames. She cupped her
hands over the rising heat, pulling them back only when it started
to hurt, soaking in the delicious heat and watching steam rise from
her trousers.

Tam had
stripped down to some sort of linen underpants. His clothes hung
from branches near the fire, and he turned his back to her, pulling
on his still-wet pants. He seemed distinctly embarrassed, not
meeting her eyes as he poured water into the pot and held it over
the fire.

"It's okay,"
she told him. "I've seen a man in his underthings before."

He didn't
answer, just opened a small pouch and dropped wet leaves into the
pot.

Tira turned
around, letting the fire warm her back and buttocks. Then she
stood, draped her cloak over a branch, and crossed to Daisy. She
stripped off the saddle and saddle blanket, then laid her bow on
the ground and turned the case over so it could drain.

When she turned
back to the fire, Tam handed her a steaming mug. "Tea," he said. "I
made it strong. The leaves got wet, so whatever we don't use now,
we throw away."