Raetian Tales 1: A Wind from the South by Diane Duane

Author:Diane Duane
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-01-27T01:17:31.563392+00:00

***

They ate a hunter’s meal of soup made from dry meat and barley, drank water melted from snow; then talked, somewhat unwillingly.

“That slope on the northwest side of the lake,” Flisch said, “it looks gentle enough. We can climb that way, then circle the whole place at that level. Whitehorn’s spurs come to about that height, too—we can look a good way up the valleys without actually having to climb them.”

“The problem is,” Mariarta said, “heaven knows what we should do if we find the story to be the truth.”

“Gold for me,” Flisch said cheerfully. “You can have the magic cowbell if you want it. The enchanted maiden, or whatever she is, I don’t want her, and she’s no good to you.”

Mariarta had other ideas. “But what happens if neither of us passes this test of questions the dwarf is supposed to give us? Or what if he only wants one of us, not the other?”

“If that happens, we’ll choose for it. The other one waits to see what happens. And if we don’t pass—we leave, I guess. At least we’ll be able to tell people the story is true.”

“You hope we’ll leave. I hope this isn’t like missing the white one when you shoot at it.” Mariarta had another bite of meat. “What did you see, back there at Vaz?”

Flisch stared. “I told you, the white one. Did you think I was making that up?”

“Yes.”

He stared, offended. “Who would lie about a thing like that? It could be the death of you, saying you’d seen it when you hadn’t.”

Mariarta stared back. “But then you let drop that line about it turning into a woman—”

He smiled, malice in his eyes. “Yes. You should have seen your face. But that was just me joking. The white one—” Flisch looked sober. “I saw it there, all right. It went into the trees, like I told you. I followed it. Got good and lost there...I had to sleep under the trees that night.”

Mariarta sat silent, considering the mystery. Something to do with the statue?... “Was it big?”

Flisch shook his head. “The usual doe size. Maybe two years.”

Mariarta breathed out. It suddenly all seemed too much for her. Her legs ached, she was weary, she was trapped with someone she didn’t trust, about to spend a night waiting for a morning when they would go out looking for a magic that might make them rich or kill them—no telling which. But this had been her idea....

“Never mind,” she said, settling herself on the far side of the fireplace. “Better wrap up in that blanket of yours. The fire won’t last until dawn.”

“Ah, well, what a pity,” Flisch said. “But there are other ways to keep warm.”

Mariarta reached over from where she sat, laid her crossbow in her lap. It was spanned, and armed.

“A lot of times,” Mariarta said, “you get a warm afternoon in the rocks, the sun shining, and you’re lying there, waiting for the chamois. You drowse off. But your ears aren’t asleep.

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