"If it has been written, then I know it," the book said, without a trace of modesty. "At the moment you are my master, since you extracted me from the library. What spell is it you wish to know?"
I hated saying it out loud again, but this was one of the two treasures that Kelsa had promised could help. "I lost my powers. I want them back. What's the spell to restore them?"
"Not so fast, not so fast!" The Book rustled his pages. "That's not as simple as it sounds! I will need to know all there is to know about the circumstances regarding the loss of your powers. Then I can search through my indices to find
the appropriate incantation, and lists of the ingredients for potions and so on that will effect the cure. You can tell me all as we travel, for I see within my annals that Kelsa is about to give us direction to find our next colleague."
"Why, you almost sound prescient, dear!" the Crystal Ball exclaimed. "You're right, of course. I keep forgetting that the depths of your scholarship reach into the future as well as the past. It's not as good as actually being a seer, of course, but you make such educated-sounding guesses..."
"Don't you have the whole story somewhere in you?" I asked, interrupting Kelsa's inevitable flow. Payge's dingbat turned upside down into the semblance of a frown.
"I have a brief retelling, but I need every detail that you can recall, scents, lighting, impressions, all in your own words, of course."
"Go ahead, Aahz," Tananda said, encouragingly. "What's the harm in telling it one more time? This could be the last."
I disliked going over the circumstances that had lost me my powers, but it sounded like I had no choice. Giving Tanda a quelling glance, I took a deep breath, and began.
"Up until that day I'd always liked Garkin. He had the same kind of sense of humor I had..."
Chapter 18
"ALMS, MISTER, ALMS!" Another one of the skinny, ruddy, toadlike people grabbed for my ankle. He was wearing only a loincloth and a headcloth. His bulgy eyes rolled up at me appealingly. I growled.
"Just kick him off," Kelsa advised. "They expect it."
I had already done so.
"I don't need you to tell me that." I looked around me. "What a dump."
The city of Sri Port, largest population center in the dimension of Toa, stretched out in all directions except up. Most of the mud-and-straw buildings, once painted in bright colors and now faded by the sun, were less than three stories, and most of them were in conditions so wretched that no one would want to live in them unless they had absolutely no choice. From the look of the locals, they had no choice. I couldn't estimate the population, but I had to guess it was in the millions or tens of millions of hairless, froglike individuals, who shared their homes with skinny ruminants that chewed on the weeds that grew in the mud. Sri Port looked like the summer home of at least two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The sun beat down through a haze of humidity thick enough to swim in. I glanced back at Calypsa, who was picking her way daintily through the piles of garbage, dung and broken bricks that obstructed the narrow path between buildings. Behind her, Tananda kept an eye on anyone who might be following us. She was fondling the blade of a knife with a deliberate thumb. The Toadies standing in doorways or stumping through the narrow alleyways glanced at her and hastily away again. I grinned. She could look plenty formidable when she chose.
Strings of laundry swung over our head, flapping in the hot breeze. Noise battered at our eardrums, smells clawed at
our nostrils, and the locals bumped into us at every possible turning. The streets and alleyways were far too narrow for the crowds. Following Kelsa's directions, I led the way, shouldering through locals arguing with one another, bargaining, wooing, bullying, child-disciplining, praying, playing, begging, gossiping, and more bargaining.
Allowing for the difference in the physical form of the locals, Sri Port looked precisely like the Bazaar at Deva, if you sucked out all of the money from the latter.
"A donation, good sir, a donation for the poor and blind child of leprous drunkard!" A skinny, purple, clawlike hand reached up to me from a collection of filthy rags.
"He's lying," Kelsa said, cheerfully. "He's not blind, of course, and neither parent has leprosy. Actually, his mother has a degree in dental hygenics from the University of Sri Port, but they are having trouble keeping up with the mortgage on their little apartment. No cost of living increase this year, or for the last three years, for that matter. The dentist can't afford to give her one. He's having trouble with HIS mortgage, by the way. Shagul, here, begs after school, but he really should be home doing his book report. It's due tomorrow morning."
A pair of goggling eyes glared hatred out of the folds of cloth. "The curse of the Thousand Gods be upon you!"
"Go do your homework," I snarled, lunging toward him. He crabwalked hastily backwards away from me, scrambled to his feet, and ran.
"Now, this one is poor," Kelsa went on, as we walked by a female dressed in a swathe of patched but clean cloth. "You've got a small silver piece in your purse. Drop it on the melon-seller's wagon as we go by. She'll pick it up."
I didn't like having anyone dictate what I did with my money, and I'd spent plenty already in the service of the Golden Hoard. Besides, I already had a coin in my hand I'd been planning to drop in the shabby female's way. I'm not a total miser, no matter what you might have heard about me before. I brushed my hand over the rail of the cart, leaving the dona-
tion on the splintery plank. I didn't look behind me, and I wouldn't meet Tananda's eye. I could tell she was grinning. I cursed all magikal treasures and Trollops.
"This is it!" Kelsa announced, as we shoved through the throng into yet another crumbling city square. The buildings here were just as dilapidated as the others, but the people here, by and large, were smiling. A lot of them squatted in the dirt in front of a low, more-or-less whitewashed building with big holes in the walls and a holey pink curtain for a door. "That's the place."
"You could buy the whole house for a Devan nickel," Tananda said, letting out a low whistle.
"The Purse is there?" Calypsa asked, in disbelief. "The source of unending wealth is in that hovel?"
"That's what we're going to find out," I said. "Either the person who's got it doesn't know how to use it, or it's a fake. We've got to check it out."
Tananda grabbed my arm. "Aahz, if that's their source of income, we can't just march in there and take it away from them. Look at the condition of this city!"
"I'll make up my mind when I see it. Come on."
When we started to cross the square, the Toadies hanging out in front of the white building sprang up. Three of the biggest breasted up to us. They stood maybe as high as my collar bone.
"Who do you think you are? We were here first! Wait your turn!"
"Who do you think YOU are?" I demanded. "I'm a peaceable kind of guy, so get out of my way before I stomp you into the dirt!"
"Please, please," a low, musical voice said from the doorway. "No fighting here! This is a place of peace. Raniti, how rude you are! Can't you see that these are guests? All who come here are welcome."
The crowd, which had clearly been spoiling for a good fight, all settled down into their crouches once again, grumbling under
their breath. The speaker came out and took my hand. She was a very short, very wrinkled, old Toady in a swath of much-mended cloth and a head veil. She didn't seem particularly special to look at, with an unusually wide mouth and a flat nose, but there was fire in those bulgy eyes. I was impressed in spite of myself.
"Come in, come in," she said. "I am Sister Hylida, abbess of the Toa Ddhole Mission. Welcome, welcome!" She gestured toward the door.
There seemed to be as much deconstructed architecture inside as out, but it was arranged better. Two bricks propped up a vase with a broken foot. A shrine at one end had been put together out of pieces of carved marble, detritus from a number of different temples, each with its own idea of ornamentation.