Lydia inhaled sharply. “You mean… his finger?”
“Or his hand,” Alberich said. “Possibly his whole arm.”
Lydia looked at Nick in horror. “No! They can’t.”
“They will.” Alberich pointed to a jagged rock in the middle of the river, barely visible above the surging water. “That’s their rock, and they’re already on their way. But there is an alternative.”
“What is it?” Lydia asked.
“Forget it,” Nick snarled. “He’s just playing another angle.”
“I’m as strong as they are,” Alberich told her. “For another twenty percent I can keep them away from him.”
“I said forget it,” Nick said again. He could see something in the water now, moving toward him just below the surface. “Even if it costs my whole arm, it’ll be worth it.”
“Nick, that’s insane,” Lydia said urgently. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, with our car fifty feet up a hill. You’ll bleed to death before we can get you to a hospital.”
And then, abruptly, three slender bodies surged out of the water onto the shore, and six hands grabbed at his clothing.
“Back!” Alberich snapped, leaping to Nick’s side and pulling his right arm away from the grasping hands.
“The Ring!” the Rhinemaidens called in unison, their voices thin and ancient and terrifying. One of them shoved her way beneath Alberich’s grip, and suddenly there was a tug-of-war going on for Nick’s right arm.
“Give us the Ring,” one of the Maidens said, her hand wrapping like a vise around Nick’s ankle and tugging him toward the river. “You retain it at your peril.”
“I know,” Nick said. “I want to give it to you-really I do.”
“Only the waters of the Rhine can wash away the curse,” the third Maiden said, her hands on Nick’s jacket, her face up close to his. Over the smell of fish he caught a glimpse of sharp barracuda teeth.
“It won’t let go,” Nick pleaded.
“It likes him,” Alberich said, pushing the first Maiden’s hands off Nick’s arm. “Don’t be a fool, Nick. I can still save you.”
Nick blinked. It likes you. Alberich had said the same thing the first time Nick had set eyes on the Ring.
Only the Ring didn’t like Nick. All it liked was his money.
His money. “ Lydia!” he shouted, shaking his left arm free long enough to dig his phone from his pocket. “Here,” he said, tossing it awkwardly toward her.
For a second she fumbled, then caught it in a solid grip. “Who do I call?” she shouted back, flipping it open.
“Phone list one-second entry,” Nick said, stumbling as the third Maiden got a fresh grip on his left arm and pulled him another step closer to the river. The one who’d been tugging on his ankle abandoned that approach and moved instead to Nick’s right arm, and now Alberich had two sets of hands and teeth to fight off. “Input trader passcode 352627.”
Lydia nodded and leaned over the phone. The Maiden on Nick’s left arm shifted one hand to his belt. He kicked at her legs; it was like kicking a pair of oak saplings. “I’m in,” Lydia called.
“There are five funds listed.” On Nick’s right arm, one of the two Maidens opened her mouth and lowered the pointed teeth toward the Ring. Nick cringed, but Alberich slapped the creature’s cheek and shoved her back again. “Transfer everything in the first four into the fifth.”
“What are you doing?” Alberich demanded, frowning at Nick in sudden suspicion.
“The Ring doesn’t like me,” Nick said. “It just likes my money.”
“What?” The dwarf spun toward Lydia. “No!” Abandoning Nick’s arm, he charged toward Lydia.
And suddenly Nick was fighting all three Maidens by himself. “Alberich!” he shouted as they dragged him toward the river. “Help me!”
“For what?” the dwarf spat, lunging for the phone. But Lydia was faster, twisting and turning and keeping it out of his reach even as she continued punching in numbers. “Seventy percent of nothing? She’s throwing it all away, isn’t she?”
“She’s transferring it into my charity distribution account,” Nick said. His feet were in the icy water now, the Maiden on his left arm already in up to her knees. “All the Ring cares about is money. And as of right now-”
“You’re broke!” Lydia shouted in triumph. “You hear me, Ring? He’s broke.”
Spinning away from Lydia, Alberich threw himself back at the Ring. “Get away from the Ring!” he shouted.
“The Ring is ours,” the Maidens chorused in their eerie unison.
“It’s mine!” Alberich snarled, grabbing Nick’s wrist.
Something cold ran up Nick’s back, something having nothing to do with the water swirling around his feet. Lydia was right-with all his money now in the irrevocable trust fund, he had nothing left in the world.
But the Ring still wasn’t letting go.
“Is this how you want to die?” Alberich demanded, pulling at Nick’s arm with one hand as he shoved at the Maidens with the other. “Drowned in the Rhine by ancient creatures who have nothing left but hate and greed? There’s still time for us to make a deal.”
“I don’t want a deal,” Nick said. He was knee deep in the river now, the numbingly cold water threatening to cramp his calf muscles. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lydia doing something with the phone. “I don’t want money. All I want-”
And without any warning at all, the Ring came loose.
Nick’s arms were still pinioned, but for the moment no one was gripping his hand. With a desperate flick of his wrist, he sent the Ring arcing into the air toward the center of the river and the Rhinemaidens’ rock. “No!” Alberich screeched, diving toward it.
But the Maidens were ready. Two of them twisted their arms around the dwarf’s neck and dragged him into the river, swimming backwards toward their rock. The third Maiden dove into and then out of the water like a dolphin, reaching up and catching the Ring in midair as it fell. For a moment she held it triumphantly aloft, then turned and disappeared with her sisters beneath the waves.
And then Lydia was at Nick’s side, pulling at his now aching arms, helping him back to the shore. “What did you do?” Nick asked, shivering violently. The storm, he noticed, was starting to abate. “How did you get it to let go?”
“You had no money,” she told him, wrapping her arm around his waist and leading him toward the cliff where their car waited. “But you still had the potential to earn it all back.”
He nodded in understanding. “So you fired me.”
“I text-messaged your resignation to Sonnerfeld Thompkins,” she confirmed. “I guess it’ll never be Sonnerfeld Thompkins Powell now. I’m sorry.”
Nick blinked a few lingering drops of water from his eyes. “I’m not. Thank you.”
“I’m glad it worked.” She paused. “Nick… your phone list. Number two was your online investment number, three and four and five were Sonnerfeld and your office. Number one…”
“Is you,” Nick confirmed with a tired sigh. “You’ve always been number one. I just forgot that for awhile.”
She squeezed his hand. His aching, ringless, free hand. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go home.”
WHAT QUIG FOUND by Chris Pierson
This all happened at a restaurant in Rhode Island, the name of which I don’t care to recall.
Well, actually I do recall it. I just can’t tell you what it is.
I’ll explain.
What happened there caused a bit of what my mother would call a foofaraw, which means publicity, and not the kind a major restaurant chain enjoys. So the first time I tried to get this story published, I mentioned the name, and next thing there were cease-and-desist orders flying, and… well, they’re a multinational corporation worth billions. I’m a database programmer with student loans and a car to pay off. You tell me who’d win in court. So turns out I can’t tell you where the story takes place.