week?”
“No.”
“An oddly colored fish, perhaps? Or overripe herbs?” he prodded.
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you killed a spider with a cooking spoon, and accidentally mixed it in with-”
“Never!” The mother frowned indignantly. But then her face softened. “But this morning… this morning there were bloodflies in the house. I thought it strange for winter, for such a dry season. And they did bite the children. Could it be that?”
Omar clapped his hands. “It must be that, you clever young thing. Everyone, did you hear? There are bloodflies in Rekavik, bloodflies in winter, no less. You would think the poisoned blood of the reavers would kill off such fragile little things, but no! The bloodflies have survived the plague, and now they are the cure, they are our salvation. So go back to your homes and wait for the flies. Suffer their tiny, painless bites. And soon we will all be saved from the plague!”
The crowd murmured.
“Are we all going to get big ears like that?” someone asked.
“Probably,” Omar said breezily. “And it may last a day or a year or the rest of your life, but which is the greater sacrifice? To have the keen ears and eyes of a proud fox, or to become a slavering, mad reaver beast that lives naked in the wilderness?”
It took a bit more prodding and reassurance and even threats, but eventually he managed to send everyone home with the notion that the bloodflies were a blessing from the Allfather and that soon they would all be saved from the long darkness of the reavers. But even then, there were more fights to find and more mobs to pacify, and so Omar spent the day wandering the streets, brandishing his bright sword, teasing the truth of the bloodflies from whoever had been bitten, and then convincing the angry and the fearful to go home and embrace their strange new fate.
By the time the sun was setting, Omar had been struck by rocks four times in the head and seven times in the back, but not a single man, woman, or child had been killed or exiled. Even the most skeptical of the house carls and squinting crones had been forced to concede what they saw with their own eyes-that the bloodflies had left their victims stronger and healthier than ever before, at the meager cost of their tall ears and golden eyes. And more than a few children had run home, eager to find a bloodfly of their own, to be the first of their friends to gain the sharp hearing and night vision of a fox.
Finally, Omar shuffled into his room in the castle and flopped down beside Riuza. She was wheezing quietly and trembling slightly. He touched her cheek. “If I thought a bloodfly could bring you back to me, I would run out and catch one for you right now. But I’m afraid not even this mad experiment of mine would help you, dear lady. It won’t be long now.”
The leather curtain in the doorway burst aside and Skadi dashed into the room, a storm of black skirts and scarves and blood-red hair. She caught Omar around the throat as he was still in the process of standing up, and she shoved him back down flat on his back. He choked, struggling to breathe. The knowledge that he couldn’t be strangled to death was a small comfort as the pain in his neck and chest grew sharper.
“What did you do?!” the queen shouted in his face.
He twisted his fingers under and between hers, and pried them off his windpipe. She straightened up, but remained kneeling on his arm with her painted nails hovering over him like bloody claws. As he blinked and massaged his throat, Omar noted that Thora and Leif were standing behind their mistress wearing grim faces.
Omar smiled weakly. “Highness, yes, you may come in. Please make yourself comfortable.”
She slapped him. “What did you do?”
“I take it you’ve heard about the miracle sweeping through the city,” he said, rubbing his cheek.
“Those damned flies of yours.” Her hand flew at his face again, but this time he caught her wrist and held it tight as he sat up, pushing her back. She tried and failed to yank her hand free.
“Oh no, not of mine,” he said sharply. “They’re yours, Highness. Those are the same bloodflies that you unearthed with your damned drill, the same bloodflies that turned a good king into an insane monster.”
“But you did something to them. What did you do?”
He was about to answer when he suddenly realized that all three of his guests were wearing hoods or scarves over their heads. And then he saw the flash of gold in Skadi’s eyes. Omar grinned.
“Rejoice, Highness. You too, miss, and you, young murderer. You are all saved from the reaver scourge. The plague will soon be nothing but an unpleasant memory, and with any luck, so will I, assuming you let me leave in peace.”
“Saved?” Skadi yanked the scarf from her head to reveal the tall fox ears nestled in her hair. “We’re monsters! We’re deformed!”
Omar laughed. “You know, the children outside were a bit more sanguine about this. They were excited about having super-human hearing and what not. They think they’re demigods, or some such. Do you people have a fox-god? If not, you should, or you will very soon, I imagine.” Omar stood up.
The queen stood as well, rising half a head taller than the southerner. “When the people realize what you’ve done to them, there will be civil war! The city will tear itself to pieces and the children will drown in the rivers of blood in the streets!”
“I’ve already told the people what I’ve done,” Omar said. Then he shrugged. “More or less. Anyway, they’re quite content about it. Maybe not everyone is thrilled about the ears, but they seem willing to embrace a few little changes since it means they are now immune to the reaver plague. As are you.”
Skadi stepped back, her face twisted in disbelief. “Immune?”
“Yes. Immune.”
“So you were telling the truth after all.” The queen stood a bit easier, relaxing her shoulders. “You really did spend all those years trying to find a cure.”
“I did, although I must confess, I only succeeded in finding this remedy a day ago. And I have you to thank. If you hadn’t sent that lovely young lady into the wild, to find me and remind me of the drill and the flies, I would probably still be in my little cave, dreaming of warmer climes.”
“And the people all know about this? And they accept it?” Skadi touched one of her hairy ears and winced at the sensation.
Omar sighed. “They know as much as they need to know. The bloodflies are the cure, and the ears are the price of their good health. All you need to do now is keep them calm and quiet a few more days and everyone in Rekavik will be saved. Wait a few more weeks for the flies to find the reavers in their dens, and everyone in Ysland will be saved. The hard part is done, Highness. By the time spring arrives, it will all be over. And if you like, you may take all the credit for it, however you wish.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “And what price will I pay for this generosity?”
“Nothing at all. A good deed is its own reward.” Omar smiled briefly.
“Just like that? No blood feud, no vendetta for what I’ve done to you?”
“No.” Omar gazed down at Riuza. She was hardly breathing at all. He said, “I’m no Yslander. Gods, I’m barely even human anymore. And Riuza was always going to die, whether in five years or fifty. If I hadn’t boarded her ship eight years ago, she probably would have returned safely to Tingis, only to be killed in some other airship accident or even in a war with the Songhai Empire. Death is a universal constant, just like me.”
Skadi smirked. “Is that really how you see the world?”
He looked up at her. He remembered the stained and patched black dress she had worn as the vala of Hengavik, and the way her young eyes had lit up when he talked about airships and the city of Tingis, and his travels around the world. “You were just like me, once. So eager, so curious. But you had the same curse as me, too. Obsession. It’s such a pity because you had such good intentions. Grand intentions! A machine to warm the land, to make the earth fertile, to bring back the forests of Ysland. It was a beautiful dream you had. And I was so caught up in helping you that I missed the little signs along the way. When you replaced the vala of Rekavik. When you seduced Ivar. It was such a subtle and insidious ambition.”
“There’s nothing wrong with ambition,” she said haughtily.
“Nothing at all,” he said gently. “But that ambition led you to a precipice. You climbed so high and grasped so much that you became terrified of losing it. And when you saw Ivar turning into a monster right before your eyes, when he tore those three men to pieces and hurled their shredded flesh in your face, that was the moment when
