And then I saw a glimmer of her usual warmth. "I understand," she said. She stepped close. "You stopped him." Her voice trailed off. She brought her hands up to her head and ran her fingers back through her hair, pushing it off her face, but loose curls dropped back down over her eyes.
This time, I reached out to brush her hair back. She flinched at my touch and I quickly pulled back my hands.
I hate my hands. I've always hated my hands. But now I'm not sure if its the hands themselves or what I've done with them. I keep staring at them. I've even tried covering them up with that cloth I got from Sil. They appear to end where the cloth begins, just as the gnome's hand did. I try to imagine what new hands might look like-if they might make a difference with Ashana. I wonder if the gnome ever wished for new hands.
I think it's time to go talk to that wizard in Thay.
Thieves' Honor
Teza inched forward another finger's width on the branch and strained her eyes to see through the leaves. There he was, coming slowly, almost wearily, along the forest path below Teza let her breath out in a soft, appreciative whistle.
By the cloak of Mask, what a stallion! Broad shoulders, muscular legs, powerful neck, large intelligent eyes, and a tail that swept the ground like a black mantle. His hooves gleamed when he moved, and his coat was polished ebony He was by far the most magnificent horse Teza had ever seen, and she had seen many. She had a passion for other people's horses and had made it her life's profession to trade and sell them whenever she could get her hands on one.
But this one! Such an animal would be worth his weight in gold pieces in any horse market in Faerun. All she had to do was catch him, and he would be hers.
At the moment that task was looking easier and easier. Teza had spotted the horse just after sunrise in the northern edge of the Ashanwoods near Rashemen's great city of Immilmar. He had been alone and nervous, with a broken halter dangling from his ears. Teza had not been able to believe her luck The stallion was too tall to be one of the mountain ponies favored by the Fangs of Rashemen and too slight to be a draft horse, which meant he had probably escaped from some merchant caravan or a nobleman's stable.
She had followed him through the morning, waiting for her chance while he wandered aimlessly along the rim of the woods. Then he had happened onto a trail familiar to Teza and began to head toward an old oak well known by local road agents for its low-hanging branches and dense foliage. Teza had decided to make use of that opportune tree.
Silently she turned to look straight down between her bent knees. Her muscles bunched; her fingers tightened around the coil of rope in her hand. Already the stallion was only a few steps away from her perch, unaware of her presence.
The morning breeze had died to a mere flutter, and the summer heat brought glistening sweat to Teza's forehead. She ignored the heat and the growing discomfort in her legs, instead straining to see the open patch of ground below.
Her heart suddenly jolted. There he was! His head… his neck… his broad black back. Like a panther, Teza dropped onto the stallion's back. With a skillful flip, she tossed a loop of rope over the horse's muzzle and pulled it tight. She had him!
The horse stopped in his tracks; his head came up, and for one brief moment, Teza thought he was going to accept her and stand quietly. The hope died aborning when the stallion's ears whipped flat on his head. Instead of a snort of surprise or a whinny of fear, his voice rang out in a stallion's scream of triumph. Before Teza could move, he bolted forward into a dead run.
Teza's head snapped back. Frantically she wrapped her hands in his mane and pulled herself low and forward over his neck. The pounding of his hooves echoed the frightened pounding of her heart as she stared wide-eyed at the woods flashing by her. The stallion was running berserk over an uneven wooded track. Not even her big, rawboned weight hauling on the rope around his nose was slowing him down.
She tried to sooth him with her voice, signal him with her legs, even grab for his broken halter. The horse only ran faster, his teeth bared and his head low like a striking snake.
Teza prided herself on being able to ride anything on four legs, but this mad, frenzied gallop terrified her. There seemed to be no way to control or calm this horse, and he was showing no signs of tiring. When he burst out of the woods and sped even faster over the open ground, Teza groaned. She wondered for once in her life if it would be wiser to abandon a prize than find herself broken on the rocks or crushed under a fallen horse.
It was only when she tried to move her legs that she realized she had no choice. Her thighs, her seat, and her knees were strangely stuck to the stallion's heaving sides. Panic rose to choke her. She yanked wildly at one leg and then the other, and all that happened was the stallion tossed his head and snorted in contempt.
In that instant, Teza knew she was in desperate trouble. Instead of a velvety brown, the stallion's eyes blazed with a cruel greenish fire and his cold breath, carried on the wind, smelled of dank water and rotting vegetation.
"Gods above!" she railed to the sky. "An aughisky!"
The horse neighed again in agreement, his voice so close to wild laughter it made her blood run cold.
Teza hunched over the aughisky's neck. Struggling was getting her nowhere. She had to think of something else and fast. She could see they were running east toward the Ashane, the long, deep Lake of Tears where the aughisky lived in its silty depths.
Also known as a water horse, the aughisky was rare and wily, seldom seen by humans, but its reputation was well known by anyone who lived within the environs of Lake Ashane. The creatures were predators and fed on unwary or greedy humans who tried to mount them. Held fast by the aughisky's power, the helpless victims were carried underwater, drowned, and completely devoured. Only the liver was left to wash up on the shores.
Teza shuddered at the memory of the tales. She beat the horse's head with her fists. "Stop, you ugly, fish-eaten carp bait!" The aughisky snorted and stretched his head even farther out of her grasp.
Teza caught a silvery glimpse of water framed between towering hills. The Lake of Tears. They were nearing the eastern shore, where high bluffs plunged down into the dark water. And Teza was no closer to escape than when she dropped on the aughisky's back.
She sat in shuddering dismay and stared at the water stallion's surging head. There was one more thing she could try. Her hands cold, she drew her dagger from its sheath. She'd been forced to use the blade many times in her life, mostly as a warning against overreaching men, but she had never turned it against a horse. She had to remind herself that this shining, magnificent creature was a beast of water and blood and ravening appetite.
Gritting her teeth, Teza clutched the dagger in her right hand, leaned forward over the horse's neck, and plunged the blade with all her strength into the aughisky's neck, just below his throatlatch.
Nothing happened. The water horse did not even slow.
The woman yanked out her dagger and stabbed him again and again, but still he raced toward the water. Teza saw no sign of blood or any liquid leaking from his wounds.
The aughisky neighed a cruel cry of glee. He galloped past a copse of trees, through an opening between two high rock walls, and burst out onto a cliff overlooking Lake Ashane. He stopped so abruptly, Teza was flung against his neck. Her dagger fell out of her fingers.
She felt his hold on her legs give way. Before she could regain her balance, the horse lifted his heels and threw her over his head. Her hands scrabbled for a hold, but he snaked his black head out of her grasp and all she caught was his broken halter dangling by his ears. The old leather straps stopped her fall just long enough for her to look downward.