'Uh oh,' gulped Mika as he began to brush the shaman down, whisking non-existent dust off the man's wolfskin cloak. 'I've been looking for you, honored one.'
The shaman struck Mika's hand aside and drew himself up to his full height, his dark, beady eyes flashing angrily. 'What do you want?'
'I need to replenish my supplies. All of my healing herbs and potions were destroyed,' Mika replied politely, knowing that he must not lose his temper. 'I worry about the safety of my party, traveling with my medicine pouch empty.'
'From what I've heard of your skills, your party will be immeasurably safer without them,' said the shaman, his wattled neck quivering with anger.
Mika stared at the man in bewilderment, unable to figure out why the shaman seemed to dislike him so much.
'I am not that bad,' he said cautiously.
'That is not what my brother says,' sneered the shaman.
'Who is your brother?' Mika asked, mystified.
'Whituk, shaman of the Far Fringe Clan,' said Oban, watching Mika's face to measure the impact of his words.
He was not disappointed. Mika blanched and the blood left his face at the mention of the hated name. Whituk! The mealy-mouthed assistant who had become shaman and magic-user upon the death of Mika's father, thus casting Mika out of the clan without a hearth to call his own. Whituk! Whituk who had always been jealous of him. No, he would find no help from these quarters.
Mika turned on his heel without a word and made as if to go. The shaman's voice rang out again. 'Why have you come to see me?' he asked harshly. 'Do not speak of potions and healing herbs. These things are helpful, but you have a spell book. With the gem to aid you, you do not need such things. What is the real reason you have come? Speak truthfully, with none of your guile, and mayhaps I will help you.'
Mika hesitated, desperate for guidance from one skilled enough to know the answer. The man hated him, that was clear, but he was a professional; his impressive laboratory spoke more eloquently than any words. His pride in his calling might cause him to help solve Mika's terrible problem. Deciding that he had little to lose and everything to gain, Mika turned to face the shaman. In an open and honest voice he told Oban about his encounter with the demon Maelfesh, sparing none of the details.
The three-fingered demon hand rested on the table between the two men, Mika's own two remaining fingers dwarfed by the larger, green digits; his palm seemed too small to accommodate such monstrosities. The shaman turned the hand over one last time and then set it gently on the table with a sigh.
'I'm sorry,' he said, looking Mika straight in the eye, all sign of his earlier hostility gone. 'There's really nothing I can do. It's a clear cut case of demon digititis. The prognosis is not good. The possession will continue to advance, finger after finger, then hand, arm, and so on.'
'You mean… all of me?' Mika said in a small voice. 'I–I could turn into a demon? Isn't there anything you can do to stop it? And how come the demon knows every thought I'm thinking the very heartbeat that it comes to mind?'
Oban, now just a harmless old shaman forced to deliver bad news to a patient, sighed again and rubbed his eyes. 'I don't know how the demon knows. It could be any one of a number of devices; something that you possess, carry with you always, must be acting as a window and enables the demon to know what is happening. It could be some article of clothing, or something as mundane as your knife. But even without the window, the demon would still be all but invincible, for his powers far outweigh those of any mortal.'
'Then what am I to do?' Mika asked in desperation.
'You must do what the demon ordered,' said Oban. 'Go to Exag, find this king, and wait for further instructions. And when they come, follow them to the last dot or you will surely be demon fodder.'
'But what are the chances of his releasing me unharmed, even if I do as he says?' asked Mika.
'Not great,' admitted Oban. 'But what are your chances otherwise? I know of only one thing that will undo the damage.'
'What?' asked Mika, gripping the table tightly.
'Something or someone of greater power,' answered Oban.
'What about the stone that matches this one?' asked Mika, holding up the magic gem. 'Would the two of them together be strong enough?'
'Perhaps. I do not know what their properties are, what they are capable of,' Oban replied. 'But it would certainly be worth trying. Just remember one thing: the demon will know the very instant you deviate from his instructions, and he will act accordingly.'
With those words hanging heavy in his heart, Mika left the shaman's dwelling, his pouch swelled to overflowing with an abundance of healing potions, ungents, herbs, and tinctures, none of which could assuage his problems.
With the revelation of the dread demon fingers, Oban had lost his earlier hostility; he watched Mika go with a look of pity on his face, knowing that the man was as good as dead. Whituk would never have to worry again.
CHAPTER 19
Mika's group left the nomad camp on the following morning, laden with enough supplies to see them as far as Exag and then on to Dramidja, if the Great She-Wolf granted them her protection.
Hornsbuck and Lotus Blossom hung from their saddles, bidding farewell to those who had become friends during the short interval of their stay. Lotus Blossom's pouch hung heavily at her belt, and it seemed obvious that her formidable and somewhat devious skill at knucklebones had not diminished.
RedTail was looking plump and well-groomed, having eaten his fill and been brushed till his thick coat gleamed like burnished bronze. Tam had spent the remainder of their time in the camp slumbering contentedly on Starr's hearth. He hadn't declined the tasty treats she had offered him, even though Mika himself sat morosely before the fire, staring at his gauntleted hand.
It was the princess, however, who was the most affected by their stay. No longer did she glower and snarl at wolf and man dike, but appeared content in her wolven form. More than content, she strutted proudly and even swaggered about, her head aloft, blue and green eyes flashing, and her tail arched high above her back. An admiring retinue of male wolves followed her wherever she went, and far from discouraging them, she led them on with coy glances and swaying hips.
Mika alone was despondent, for he had risked the demon's displeasure by stopping at the nomad camp rather than heading straight for Exag as he had been told. He had gambled on learning some bit of information that would help him fight the demon. Instead, he had gained a third demon finger and had learned absolutely nothing that would help him outwit and ultimately defeat the demon.
The princess had remained at Starr's side for the rest of the visit. The two of them had become nearly inseparable, and they constantly gave Mika the same cool look of hidden amusement.
That look had really begun to irk Mika, even piercing his great depression which they appeared not to notice. He wondered what they said to each other when they were alone, or how they even communicated at all. He wondered, but not enough to ask Starr, for he didn't really want to know.
Nor was he as disappointed as he would have been under normal conditions over his inability to get Starr alone, for he was unwilling to put his virility to the test again until he had found the red stone. He was actually relieved when it came time to wave a final farewell and take his leave.
Starr knelt next to Tam and the princess and hugged them each in turn, though she squeezed the princess longer and whispered in her ear.
And there-there it was again! That look! The two of them staring at him as though they were laughing and sharing a secret! Suddenly infuriated, Mika felt the blood rush to his head. He kicked the roan hard, causing it to rear up on its hind legs and leap forward. Hornsbuck, Lotus Blossom, and the wolves were caught by surprise and were forced to race after him or be left behind.
The young boys, always ready for the opportunity to parade about and exhibit their fine horsemanship to the
