Don Bassingthwaite - The Yellow silk

"Thanks." Tycho kissed his old friend's cheek. "She died with a song on her lips. I think her spirit is still singing."

Li smiled. "You know," he said, "the ship I came on should still be in the harbor. I'll be taking it back to Telflamm and starting east along the Golden Way once spring comes. Would you like to come with me?"

Tycho choked. "Bind me, yes!" His face crinkled. "I don't have much coin for passage, though."

"You can earn it." Li opened his coat and dipped his hand inside. There was the sharp rip of cloth. Tycho twisted around to stare. Li's hand emerged, unfolding to show three stones that gleamed black-red in the moonlight. "But here's a start."

"Li!"

"Your reward, remember? For helping me."

"I couldn't take-" Li's eyebrow rose. Tycho sighed. "All right, I can take it. Bind me, you're starting to know me too well!" He looked sideways at the Shou. "Li?"

"Yes?"

"Do I really speak Shou like a whore?"

Li looked up at the moon. "You have an accent," he said diplomatically. "We can work on it." He glanced back down. "Tycho?"

"Yes?"

"What's Thayan pox?"

Lander shivered in the cold darkness of his prison, blankets wrapped around him, waiting. How long, he wondered. Soon. Surely soon. His stomach had been growling for an eternity.

The hatch in the bottom of the door popped open. Lander darted forward eagerly.

Except it wasn't a bowl of food that appeared. A rope slithered through the door like a snake. He yelped and leaped back, but the rope was faster. It shot forward, twining first around his ankles to send him sprawling then around his wrists to hold him helpless.

As soon as he was securely bound, the door opened and Hanibaz Nassor walked in. Lander spat at him. The bearded mage just stepped aside. "Lander," he chided him, "remember, you accepted my help freely."

Brin's hand had flicked out-hurling his knife at Veseene, killing her. And Tycho had gone as mad as Brin. Pressing himself back into the collapsed shelter, Lander had felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to stare at Hanibaz's battered face. "You helped me," the mage had slurred, "let me help you." He had held out his hand. Lander had hesitated only a moment and seized it.

A word from Hanibaz and they had been here. Or at least he had. A prisoner of the mage. At least he had blankets and food. And he only had to put up with a little poking.

Hanibaz rolled him onto his side and tugged down his trousers to inspect the wound on his hip, touching it gently. The pressure of his finger stung, and Lander hissed. It was nothing compared to that first night after the spell that the mage had cast in the sty wore off. Lander had thought he was going to die from the pain. It had passed quickly, though, and if the wound Black Scratch had inflicted was taking its sweet time healing, at least it didn't hurt so much.

"Well?" he snarled at Hanibaz. "There will be most likely be a scar." "I don't care about that! You know what I mean!" "If you mean is it healing, then yes. It is." "It would probably heal faster in a proper bedchamber," Lander pointed out. As usual, Hanibaz said nothing, just stood up and stepped to the door. Lander cursed at him. "A potion, then? You're a mage, you must have a simple healing potion lying around."

Hanibaz walked out and shut the door behind him. As soon as it was closed, the rope fell off of Lander and went slithering through the hatch. A moment later, a bowl of food slid through in its place. Savory aromas tempted Lander's nostrils. Beef tonight. Good meat. He held himself back from the food, though, and yelled after Hanibaz.

"Whatever you're doing to me, I wish you'd hurry up with it! I've never been this hungry in my life, and I swear my hair is growing faster than this wound is healing!"

A little window he had never noticed before popped open high up in the door and Hanibaz peered through. "It most likely is."

Lander cursed again as he pulled up his trousers. "Damn you, what are you doing to me?"

"Why, nothing at all. You're healing all by yourself."

"What?" Lander clenched his fists. "If you're not healing me, why are you keeping me in here?"

"Because our friend Black Scratch may have passed something on to you."

"Passed something…"Lander staggered back and sat down hard. He landed right on his slowly healing wound but barely noticed. Black Scratch. Yu Mao. A boar that became a man-a man who became a boar. "A wereboar?" Lander choked. "Black Scratch was a wereboar?" Stories said a wereboar could pass its curse on to people who survived its attacks. "Bitch Queen's mercy." Lander looked back up at Hanibaz. "Am I going to catch the curse?"

Hanibaz's eyes twinkled. "I certainly hope so!"

The little window slid shut. Lander stared at it for a mo-ment then he threw himself at the door, pounding on it and screaming after the Red Wizard, "No! No! "