Steven Brust - Athyra

Polyi said, “Where—?”

“I’ll get it,” said Savn.

He found the sack and rummaged around in it until he found the food. As he tore off a piece of bread, he noticed that his hand was trembling. “What should I give him?” he asked the Master.

“The bread is fine, and perhaps some cheese.”

“Put a spring onion on it,” said Vlad, “and whatever herbs you have.”

Savn did so, and then frowned. “Is it all right?” he asked Master Wag.

“Yes,” said the Master. “You may season the cheese. You must not put another scallion on it.”

Savn held Vlad’s head. Vlad managed a couple of laborious bites before he shook his head and asked for water. Savn supplied it, and Vlad leaned back once more, and this time he did fall asleep. While he slept, Savn tried a bite. Not bad, he decided. He offered some to his sister, who declined with a quick shake of her head.

“He’ll sleep for a while now,” said Master Wag. “Let’s start a fire.”

“Is it safe to leave him here?”

“Probably. But if your sister wants to help you find wood, I can watch him.”

“Would you like to help, Polyi?”

“All right,” she said in a small voice.

They took one of the torches and made their way out to the woods. “Savn,” said Polyi when they were alone. “What is—?”

“Why did you follow us?”

“I thought you’d know where he was.”

“Well, you were right. Now what? Are you going to tell Speaker where we are?”

“I don’t know.”

They gathered sticks and fagots from the thinly wooded area above the caves. “Why are you helping him?” she said.

“Because he’s my friend, and because everyone else is after him, and he didn’t do anything.”

“Didn’t do anything? You saw Reins.”

“What makes you think he killed Reins?”

“What makes you think he didn’t? And what about all those men of His Lordship’s?”

“They attacked him.”

“Well, but what’s he doing here, anyway? Who is he?”

Savn remembered some of the things Vlad had uttered while feverish, and didn’t answer.

They brought the wood back into the cave. “Where shall we put the fire?” asked Savn.

“Over here,” said the Master. “Even though his fever is broken, we don’t want him getting too warm. Burn the cloth, keep the fire going, and I’ll return tomorrow. You should sleep, too.”

Savn nodded. The three of them built the fire together, after making certain there was enough of a draft to carry the smoke out of the cave.

“Tomorrow,” said the Master.

“I’ll still be here,” said Savn.

“You will?” asked Polyi.

“Yes.”

Master Wag left without another word, taking one of the torches to guide him out. Savn made a pillow out of Vlad’s pack, another out of one of the blankets, and stretched out on the hard cave floor. “I’m tired,” he said. “We’ll talk more after I’ve slept.” Actually, he doubted that he’d be able to fall asleep, but he didn’t know what to tell his sister.

As it turned out, he was wrong; he fell asleep almost at once.

Savn woke up to a not-unpleasant, wet warmth in his ear, accompanied by a nibbling that was almost affectionate and tickled. He rolled away from it, but the hard floor of the cave woke him more fully, and as he realized what was licking his ear, he sat up abruptly with a half-stifled scream. The smaller of the jhereg scurried away, then turned to look at him, its wings folded in tightly and its snakelike head bobbing up and down. Savn had the feeling that he was being laughed at.

“What happened?” said Polyi.

“Nothing,” said Savn, feeling himself blush and hoping Polyi couldn’t see his face in the dim light. The fire had gone out and so had one of the torches. The other torch was burning strongly.

Savn glanced at Vlad, who was awake and staring at the ceiling, apparently oblivious to the comedy being performed around him.

“How do you feel?” asked Savn.

“Water.” His voice seemed no stronger than it had be—

fore. Savn wondered how much time had passed, and was surprised to learn that it had been almost four hours.

“A moment,” said Savn. He lit a new torch and replaced the one that had gone out, then stepped into a side cave and relieved himself. When he returned, he found the skin and made sure there was still water in it, then helped Vlad to drink. Vlad seemed to have some difficulty swallowing. When he had done so, he said, “Weak.”

“Food?”

“Later.”

“If you need to ease yourself, there is a place not far from here, but you’ll have to get up and—”

“I’m all right for now,” said Vlad.

“Over there?” said Polyi. “I’ll be right back.”

The jhereg who had nuzzled Savn did the same to Vlad, who attempted a smile. Savn, watching, had mixed feelings. A little later, Vlad announced that he was ready to eat, and Savn and Polyi helped him do so. The bread was going stale but was still edible. Vlad had another drink of water. Then, with Savn’s help, he pulled himself over to the nearest wall so he could sit up and lean against it.

With no warning or explanation, both jhereg suddenly turned and began flying out of the cave. Vlad did not appear surprised. Savn wondered if they could see in the dark, like bats and dzur.

“What are we going to do?” asked Polyi.

“I don’t know,” said Savn. “It depends on Vlad.”

“Do?” said the Easterner weakly. “About what?”

“Well, they must still be after you.”

“Yes.”

“Can you teleport out of here?”

“Not now.”

“Why?”

Vlad searched Savn’s face. “Too weak,” he said at last.

“Oh.”

“Must recover first,” said Vlad.

“And then?”

Vlad looked slightly puzzled, as if Savn had asked him whether harvest came before or after planting. “Then I

must kill Lord Smallcliff, of course,” he said, and, as if producing such a long sentence had exhausted him, he fell back asleep.

She felt his unhappiness as if it were a cord that connected them, though she didn’t express it to herself that way. But there was a feeling of painful unease that made its way into her consciousness, and it was connected to the Provider, to his injuries.

They spiraled up from the caves, stopping below the overcast, and they began their search out over the bare fields between the town and the woods.

She hated hunting.

She enjoyed flying, and she enjoyed searching the ground for food, but she didn’t like chases, and she certainly didn’t like fights. In one case, she was certain to get tired; in the other, she might get hurt. And—

There was a movement, small and furtive, almost directly below her. She told her lover, but made no sudden moves. They rose and described a slow, leisurely turn. Her straining eyes picked out a patch of brown that didn’t quite blend with the surrounding grass and weeds. They continued past it once more, dividing up and selecting the best angles from which to attack. If one had to hunt, it was better together.

And sometimes, one had no choice.

I will not marry a fat old cook,

I will not marry a fat old cook.

For the larding pan I’d be forsook.

Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la!

Step on out ...

After the silence that followed Vlad’s declaration, Polyi echoed Savn’s own thoughts: “He can’t mean it.”

Savn stared at the sleeping Easterner, but the things he’d said while delirious wouldn’t go away. “I don’t think so either,” said Savn at last. “But ...”

“But what?” said Polyi when he didn’t continue.

“But I don’t know. Let’s get the fire going.”