A Nameless Witch Part 4

"It can't be removed until I'm dead."

The enchantment on the ring was potent but sloppy. It had all the marks of shoddy commercial magic. A competent apprentice might crank out a dozen in under an hour to pay for his education. But such a flawed magic always has a loose thread, and I yanked on this one as an afterthought. The enchantment unraveled. The now ordinary ring slipped off the finger.

"Thank you. I can't tell you what a relief it is to be free of that. If I could trouble you for one last favor, might you help me locate my other eye. I can pull myself together eventually, but my eye is delicate. I'd hate to accidentally sit on it."

By the time I'd returned the second eye to its socket, Newt reappeared. He was alone, head bowed. Blood dripped from his bill.

"Well?" I asked, already knowing the explanation.

"I . .. uh . . . sort of killed him."

I shook my head and fixed him with a disappointed look.

"It wasn't my fault," he protested. "I was chasing after him, and I grabbed at him. Just so I could bring him back as you commanded. And his spine just sort of... came out."

"They'll do that," Gwurm said.

"See? It's almost like they were designed that way. He'll back me up, won't you?"

"It's very true. Men are rather fragile. Their heads practically fall off on their own, and their bones snap under any pressure at all."

Newt kicked the dust. "Sorry, mistress."

"It's all right," I replied, "but you must be more careful. There will be more people in the future, and I would like some a.s.surance that you won't kill them all."

"I'll work on it."

"You'll get the hang of it," Gwurm rea.s.sured. "I find it best to treat them as if they're made of dry straw."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The sun was below the treetops. Early dusk settled on the forest.

"Newt, fetch some firewood and something to eat. We're stopping for the night."

He was so embarra.s.sed by his spine-ripping blunder that he did so without uttering a single complaint.

I began the task of rea.s.sembling the troll. Given enough time, Gwurm could put himself back together, but that would take hours. I saw no reason he should suffer the indignity.

"You're too kind," he said as I returned his head to his shoulders. "I must say, you're being a very good sport about this."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Still, I did almost kill you."

"I don't die that easily. No harm done."

The hands were a difficult task. So many knuckles. I could have just thrown them together, but I wanted to do it right. The real trick was remembering that a troll's pinkie was longer than his ring finger.

After I'd finished his left arm, Gwurm was able to complete the rest on his own. Newt found enough wood for a small fire and a pair of rabbits for dinner. I spat on the wood, and it burned with a soft yellow flame. Then I sat by the fire and cleaned the rabbits. Another gift of my curse is that while my fingers are not clawed, I have a special knack for ripping flesh. I tossed Newt some intestines. He wolfed them down greedily.

"Your duck eats meat," Gwurm observed.

I nibbled on a raw leg. "As do I, but I think we have enough to share. Would you care for one?"

Newt perked up his head. "Mistress?"

Gwurm held up his hands. "I couldn't possibly..."

"Nonsense." I tossed him the second rabbit. "I insist."

"If you insist."

He chucked the entire rabbit into his mouth, chewed once, and swallowed. One of the mysteries of troll biology is how their food gets from their mouth to their unconnected stomachs. Even witches didn't know that.

Gwurm sat on the opposite side of the fire.

"So how did you come to such a fate?" I asked.

"Simple story really. Pik and I were friends. He found the rings, talked me into putting one on, and the next thing I know, I'm robbing and terrorizing the countryside."

"What were you doing before that?"

"Robbing and terrorizing mostly I'd always done most of the terrorizing as I have a talent for it, but he handled the robbery end of things. Then came the rings, and he revealed himself for the shiftless sod he was. I'll miss him. He was my only friend."

"Not much of one," I remarked.

"True, but the best friend a troll could expect."

We sat around the campfire and didn't speak much the rest of the night. Silence didn't bother me. I'd lived in isolation all my life, and Ghastly Edna had often gone weeks without saying hardly a word. We listened to the owls and the crickets, and I counted the stars while Gwurm stared into the flames.

Logically, the undead in me should have wanted to travel after dark, but I was more content to sit back and enjoy it. It always seemed to slip away faster when I walked. When I stood still, I could imagine it might last forever.

Gwurm stretched. The gaps in his joints showed just a bit. "Falling apart always tires me out. Think I'll get some sleep. Good night."

The troll hunched over in a tight ball of crossed limbs and stooped head. It looked uncomfortable, but he was already asleep. He snored softly.

" Why'd you feed him?" Newt said.

"He looked hungry, and it was the polite thing to do."

"But the mistress warned you not to. Now we'll never get rid of him."

"Who says I want to be rid of him?"

Newt's feathers ruffled. "What?"

"He looked in need of a friend. Especially since you killed his last one."

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Are you blind? He's a troll."

"And I'm a witch. And you're a duck."

"Yes, yes, but . . ."

"Newt, are you jealous?"

He ruffled again.

I stroked the brown feathers down his back. "You've nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried. And I'm not jealous."

"No, no. Certainly not."

Newt curled up on the spot and rested his head on my leg. "Jealous. The entire notion is absurd. Although I don't see what you could possibly want with a troll when you've already been blessed with an accomplished familiar."

He fell asleep, but I wasn't tired. The fire died, and I sat in the cool dark with Newt snuggled beside me and my new troll dozing across from me.

CHAPTER 5

I'd helped a forest and gained a troll. Small deeds, but not bad for my first day as my own witch. The world, what little I had seen of it, was not so frightening a place, and when the dawn finally came, I found myself looking forward to the second. and gained a troll. Small deeds, but not bad for my first day as my own witch. The world, what little I had seen of it, was not so frightening a place, and when the dawn finally came, I found myself looking forward to the second.

Gwurm didn't speak much, but I'd never actually had someone to talk to before. I'd always been Ghastly Edna's listener. Now that I finally had a listener of my own, I discovered I had much to say. It didn't take long to tell him the details of my life. I spoke of Nasty Larry's curse, my parents' cellar, my schooling with Ghastly Edna, and her murder at the hands of men who had not been men. The tale spilled from my lips in a steady flow, and though I sensed a lack of interest on Gwurm's part, he was a polite listener.

The troll plucked off his ear and cleaned out some wax. "If I understand correctly, you're ageless, practically invulnerable, and forever beautiful. But you must eat raw meat and don't like the sun." He blew in the ear and dug some crust from the lobe. "I don't mean to belittle your situation, but it doesn't seem like much of a curse."

"I don't want to be beautiful."

"And I don't want to be reviled and feared."

Newt chimed in. "And I'd rather not have been a duck."

"Exactly. We are all given lots we would rather not have. Not that I'm complaining. There are many things I like about being a troll."

"There's nothing good about being a duck."

"It must be nice to fly."

Newt grumbled. "I can't fly."

"Oh. Swimming?"

"I don't like deep water."

"Sorry to hear that." The troll plugged the ear back in place. "In any case, none of us are true masters of our fate. Not the beginning of it anyway, and it seems to me that I was born under a worse curse than you."

"Perhaps," I agreed.

Not long after coming under Ghastly Edna's charge, I'd made the same observation. My mistress had quickly corrected me on that.

"Always remember, girl, that magic is aware. All things are in some fashion. Even those things we cannot touch like the wind, and the seasons, and gravity. But nothing is quite as aware as the magic. It plays with wizards and witches and magi, and make no mistake. It is we who serve the magic, not the other way around. And it will brook no disrespect. Always remember that your curse, while not terrible, is is still a curse. Should you ever come to think of it as a gift, the magic will waste no time correcting you on this notion." still a curse. Should you ever come to think of it as a gift, the magic will waste no time correcting you on this notion."

I couldn't claim to understand exactly what she'd meant by this, but I heeded the advice. I did not despise my curse, but I never considered it a blessing.

"Are you certain this road is the way to your destiny?" Gwurm asked.

"Your destiny is always wherever you go," I replied. "Usually a day or two ahead of you," I added because it seemed a witchly turn of phrase.

He shrugged. "If we keep going this way, we'll reach a settlement of men by late afternoon. Pik and I didn't go near it. It's a garrison town."

A nagging desire to see this town came to me. We are all separated from everything else by mere dollops of s.p.a.ce and teaspoons of happenstance. This town was but a day-and-a-half journey from my woods, but I hadn't ever considered it might be.

Ghastly Edna had described several towns for she had been to many, though all long before I'd known her. They seemed fantastic places full of the virtues and blunders of men. I knew the ways of nature and magic well, but I really understood nothing of civilization. It was terrifying, in a way I was unaccustomed, to not know what to expect, but exciting as well. It could be easy, even for witches, to become too comfortable with their place in the world. But being a good witch meant exploring not just the realms of magic, but of strange civilization.

Whether it was witchliness or simple curiosity that spurred me onward, I couldn't clearly say. But there was no denying my antic.i.p.ation, though I hid it from my companions. I wanted to see this town. More importantly, I needed to see it.

It proved a disappointment. It was not a town, but rather a town-to-be. The half-finished fort sat in a gra.s.sy plain. A host of tents and temporary dwellings encircled it. A great many people milled about. They set off a touch of fear in me. Though I knew that there were real towns and cities where thousands upon thousands lived, this was the most I'd ever seen. I wanted to slink away and return under cover of dark ness, perhaps to steal a dog or a plump child for my supper.

"Oh, dear," I remarked.

"What?" Newt asked.

"I have an appet.i.te for human flesh."

"And you're just discovering this now?"

I had spent much my life in isolation, but I'd never wanted to eat any of the people I'd met yet. There was something about this settlement and all its people. They triggered a long dormant predator in me, a desire to thin the herd.

"That certainly is a curse," Gwurm said. "Humans taste awful. I've only eaten one. Just a leg. I couldn't even finish it. Poor meat. Stringy and very dry. Then again, that might have just been my mother's fault. She never was a very good cook."

I was not very hungry, and my unholy appet.i.te was easy to push away. I decided to keep myself well fed while among people to minimize the temptation.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Newt said.

"I haven't killed anyone yet," I replied.