Sakaj kept silent, but she stood nearby.
“Fingit,” the Nub said again, in a much calmer tone than before.
“That’s better,” Fingit replied. “That first scream sounded like an ox being sacrificed with a dull sword. Now that you’re here, Nub, what do you want? Not to be brusque, but I left dinner to answer your call, and I don’t care to keep my charming escort waiting. So what will it be? Are you tired of the river spirit? Do you want the Murderer’s blonde girl to fall in love with you? Love charm, maybe? Do you want an ugly sword to match your sling? Armor that can’t be pierced, or a saddle that makes your horse run faster? What will it be?”
The Nub pulled back his shoulders and stood tall. “I don’t want any of that crap. I want to make something to disguise myself and three other people.”
“Ah, Nub. You’re about to do something naughty or something stupid. Probably both. I’d love to guess, but my soup is getting cold. Details, Nub! I can’t deal if I don’t have details!”
The Nub’s voice came back loud and steady. “That’s not important. The important thing is that I know what I need, and I want you to make me an offer.”
Oh, this shit will never do.
“My goodness, you’re a tough negotiator, Nub. Pass my congratulations on to the Murderer. Now go suck on your toes, you rusty speck.”
The Nub disappeared as if he were a ball Fingit had hurled away.
“Yes, of course you had to slap him down.” Sakaj’s voice quavered a little. “He’ll come back.”
“No doubt. I just had to show him his place. Definitely.” After a few seconds, Fingit realized he was still nodding, as if nodding would make it true. He sighed and looked down at the soup. “Well, should we eat while we’re waiting?”
The Nub’s voice drifted from the blackness. “Fingit! I apologize. Please deal with me.”
Fingit winked at Sakaj, and she smiled back. He pulled the voice closer and saw the Nub again. “Now my soup is almost certainly cold. I’m offering you another chance only because of your youth and inexperience. Now, details.”
“All right. I need to rescue my friends without getting killed, and I want to make magical disguises. Good ones. I don’t want them to blow up.”
Fingit whispered to Sakaj, “A disguise? Can we do something to him with a disguise?”
“Maybe,” Sakaj whispered. “Could you trade him a disguise that won’t work against certain people, or not against animals? We need his enemy to capture him.”
Fingit smiled so that the Nub would hear it in his voice. “Well, that’s simple enough, I suppose. How much power do you want?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“How do you plan to make this thing?”
The Nub got quieter. “I don’t know that, either.”
“What kind of object do you intend to create?”
“I don’t know what kind of object it would need to be.”
Fingit whispered to Sakaj, “Oh, this is precious. He doesn’t know a damned thing. I could sell him an enchanted horse turd that he has to hold between his teeth for as long as he wants to be disguised.”
Sakaj suppressed a giggle.
Trying not to laugh, Fingit said, “Do you know anything at all?”
“I have to make it out of cloth or leather, because that’s all I’ve got,” the Nub mumbled.
“Hmm. Don’t you have some grass and dirt as well?”
“Yes! Will that help?” The Nub sounded as excited as one of those little dogs that jumps on your leg.
“Not even the tiniest bit.” Fingit bit his lip and pounded his leg with his fist, and he managed not to guffaw.
The Nub sagged. “So, there’s nothing I can do?”
“Well, I don’t think that a real sorcerer would give up just because of a few obstacles. I can help you, although it will cost a little more.”
“How much more?”
“That all depends on the deal you make. I’ll provide you the knowledge to make what you want, as well as the power you need, which is one one-thousandth of a square, by the way. Make me an offer.”
The Nub looked around, even though there was nothing to see but the darkness enveloping him. “You make the first offer. Please.”
Fingit whispered, “Won’t make me an offer. This is that damned Murderer’s fault.”
“The important thing is what you’re going to give him,” Sakaj whispered, laying her hand on Fingit’s shoulder.
Fingit grabbed her hand. “Are you sure the Freak will trade?”
Sakaj lay her other hand on top of Fingit’s. “I promise it. The Nub may get a little bruised, cut, or burned, but he’ll live.”
“All right,” Fingit whispered. “I’ll sell him a disguise that will fail just before his enemy comes into view. That’ll keep him from getting snatched by the wrong people. Or killed someplace along the way.”
Sakaj smiled and squeezed Fingit’s hand.
Fingit said, “Nub, I’m in a hurry, so let’s not waddle around like walruses on a dance floor. I’ll make a good offer, you make your offer, and if we can’t make it work, then we’ll call this off. Those are my conditions.”
The Nub laughed, and it almost sounded convincing. “Make your offer, mighty Fingit.”
“You will become the most hated man on this continent.” Fingit winked at Sakaj.
The Nub stamped his foot. “Come on, Fingit! Be just a little bit serious, all right?”
“Make your offer to me and make it fast!” Time pressure. That’s what will trip him up.
“Some dogs won’t like me. Small dogs.” The Nub held his palm less than a foot off the ground. “For a year.”
“How unimaginative. Very well, you won’t become the most hated man, but people will dislike you. On every continent.”
“Nobody will loan me money for a year,” he countered.
Fingit chuckled. “Come on, nobody will loan you money now. Random people will despise you for no reason, but only for a year.”
The Nub chewed his lip, probably unaware that Fingit was watching him. “They will ignore me, but not despise me.”
“Oh, you wish them not to despise you? Fine, maybe they’ll just dislike you. Do
