“Though maybe you should pray to the Nalendar before you dive,” suggested Umri into the silence that followed. She could think of no more explicit warning that would not arouse Imk’s suspicions. The skink flexed, tickling her ear. “Or Sursurra.”
Imk waved his hand, nonchalant now that the raft had stilled. “I am favored by the Nalendar, and Sursurra assists me as a matter of course.” The slave’s frown cleared, and it occurred to Umri that he was almost certainly the least intelligent of the three. “Likely the one was ill–fated,” Imk continued. “The other was certainly a coward.”
“Yes.” The long–haired slave nodded, and in a single swift step he was at the edge, and then over and into the water.
Two minutes later he broke the surface and stroked one–handed for the raft. “Do you have it?” called Imk, nearly tipping over the edge in his eagerness.
“I have it,” said the slave, putting a hand on the raft and heaving the box up beside Imk. It was a plain, rectangular thing, black where the mud was rubbed off. Imk seized it and began to yank fruitlessly at the lid.
The slave put his hands on the edge of the raft. “I didn’t see…” He cried out and was suddenly gone, down into the water.
Imk still held the box, but now was looking with puzzlement at the spot where the slave had disappeared. “What…”
Umri kicked Imk, hard. He caught his balance before he went over the side, dropped the box but caught it just as it hit the edge of the raft. The lid flew open and the hand tumbled out, black stone veined with white and gray, mirror–smooth, jagged at the wrist.
Imk cried out and grabbed, and, triumphant, drew the hand out of the water. His cry turned to a laugh and then a scream as a long, needle–toothed snout rocketed out of the water and snapped on the stone hand, and Imk’s own hand, wrist, and forearm.
The skink was squeaking something high and unintelligible, still in its place behind her ear. Umri grabbed the gold and lapis knife, threw herself forward and stabbed at the fish, but it slid to one side and the blade glanced off diamond–shaped scales as hard as bone. The creature was nearly nine feet long and almost cylindrical, a stone column of a fish. Imk had fallen back, screaming, and she stabbed again and then a third time, sinking the now-battered blade into the thing’s eye. It convulsed, yanking the knife downwards out of her hand and lifting the back end of the raft up off the water, sending a cascade of gold clattering and splashing over the edge.
The end of the raft slapped down, and the whole thing rocked. By some miracle Imk had not fallen in, but below his elbow was a red mess pumping blood into the water. Where the fish had been was now only a chaos of waves and foam.
She crawled over to where Imk lay and stripped off her headscarf and tied it around his arm, pulling it tight to stop the bleeding. He stirred and said something indistinct.
She sat back on her heels and considered their situation. The pole they had used to control the raft was gone. She could easily swim to shore, but she would have to leave Imk behind. She considered doing that, and then walking to the river and waiting for the next boat, whichever way it was going. Imk would likely die anyway.
Her heart rate began to settle and it occurred to her to wonder what the skink was saying. “Take a deep breath,” she said, “and then speak more slowly.”
“The hand!”
“Still be king,” said Imk, faintly.
She frowned. “The hand is in that fish’s stomach, along with…” she stopped. Imk opened his eyes and began to speak, haltingly, unintelligibly.
“The oath!” shrilled the skink. “Stop him! Drown him! Get that hand!”
Umri was incredulous. “He can’t possibly still be holding onto it.”
“There’s only one way to be sure. Dive! Cut the fish open!”
“Did you see what it did to that knife?”
“Then kill Imk!”
She’d been prepared to kill him when he threatened her, but now that he was helpless… “No!”
It bit her on the ear, a tiny stinging pain, and she fished it out from her hair and held it dangling by its tail. “You’ll regret it if he finishes!” it squeaked.
“How did Imk find out who he was?” she asked.
“Who cares? Right now…”
“And who besides you knows where this treasure is?”
The skink was suddenly limp in her grasp. “She would never…”
The raft rocked, and the fish rose up beside them. Its green–gray scales shone wetly, and its long snout was wide open, showing all of its double–row of long, sharp teeth. The gold and blue knife protruded from its eye, and from its mouth came a sound like stones grinding against each other.
“You laugh!” cried the skink.
“I am amused,” the fish said. It settled its snout on the side of the raft. “When I am amused, I give gifts for nothing more than the asking. Nalemeindundawyumrisayedynaremend, I have meddled in your affairs without consulting you, and you have more than gratified my expectations. What would you have of me?”
“The hand!” piped the skink.
She thought for a brief moment. “Gracious and generous river, I would like a pole to steer this raft with.”
“Not the treasure?”
“I can get that myself, O Beautiful Nalendar.” Umri said.
“That you can,” grated the river. “The pole is now beside the raft. And you, little skink,” said the goddess.
“I am Sursurra! There was a time when you spoke to me with more respect!”
The grinding laughter sounded again. “Ask! If I am so disposed, I will grant your request.” In the silence that followed, Imk began to mutter again.
The skink wriggled. “Oh, if I could only curse you! The hand!”
“Ask me very nicely,” said the fish. The skink hesitated. “Perhaps I will ask Rilhat Imk what he wants.”
“You wouldn’t!” cried the skink. The fish said nothing, and Imk’s voice gained strength. “Will you please destroy the hand,” said the skink, nearly inaudibly.
“Louder,” grated the fish.
“Will you please destroy the hand!”
“You’ll never rule Gnarr again.”
“I beg you! That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said the fish, and opened its jaws even further, and out rolled the stone hand. It hit the raft and with a loud crack that echoed across the lake it shattered into countless tiny, jagged pieces.“I’d scatter those around, if I were you,” said the goddess when the sound had died away.“Just in case.” And with that, the fish sank into the lake.
Umri retrieved the pole, and examined Imk. The bleeding had stopped, and he breathed evenly, seemingly asleep.“I think he’ll live,” she said.
“I’m not speaking to you,” said the skink from the middle of the raft. Umri said nothing. “You might have some sympathy for what I’ve been through. Who would have thought the river would be so petty! So vindictive!”
“Petty!” She lowered the pole into the water, gingerly, and leaned her weight against it, propelling them slowly forward. “Haven’t you learned anything, even after seven hundred years?”
“A great deal!” squeaked the skink, indignant.
“I don’t think you’ve learned very much at all.” She gave another shove.
“Have you no understanding? No respect?”
Umri lifted the pole and put it down closer. She looked towards the shore and saw the surviving slave, the one who had refused to dive, watching them. She waved, and he waved back.
“I am going to spend the next few weeks diving for gold,” she said. “And then I think I’ll buy Reasonable Expectations, if it’s for sale.”