'Thank you,' she murmured, climbing out of the coach.
Her traveling companions shot her looks of good riddance and hastily pulled the door shut. The coachman had already set her luggage on the muddy street-one modest satchel of personal items and the black leather bag that carried her doctor's tools. He climbed back up to the driver's bench and clucked to the four swaybacked horses. The coach rattled away, leaving her alone.
Mika picked up her bags and drew a deep breath. The village's half-timbered buildings might have looked quaint, except they were grimy with soot and sagged wearily along the sludge-filled open sewer that passed for a thoroughfare. Grim-faced villagers clad in dull gray clothes hurried by without giving her so much as a glance. Nearby, hanging before a dilapidated three-story building, she saw a peeling wooden sign that might have had a piglike shape if she squinted just right. She supposed that was the Black Boar.
'Well,' Mika said briskly to herself. 'Here I am.'
With a sigh, she began picking her way through the muck toward the inn.
That evening, when she asked the proprietor of the Black Boar if she might set up her practice at the inn, he adamantly refused. 'I'll not have a crowd of sick peasants filling up my common room and keeping away customers!' he snapped.
Glancing around, Mika imagined there was little chance of that. The dingy common room was empty save for a single old man who hunkered in a corner, nursing the same mug of watered-down ale he had been drinking for hours.
She regarded the innkeeper. Everything about the middle-aged man suggested a miserly nature, from his threadbare clothes to the emaciated frame on which they hung, as on a scarecrow. Mika decided to try a gambit. 'As you wish,' she said with a sigh. 'It truly is a shame, though.' She-looked about longingly. 'This is such an ideal place.'
The innkeeper's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'How so?'
'Sometimes patients must wait to see me,' Mika explained nonchalantly. 'When they do, they often grow so very thirsty and hungry. It would have been nice if they could tarry at an inn, where they might purchase refreshments.' She shook her head firmly, as if resigned to his answer. 'But no, I'll bother you no more about it. I'll begin searching for-'
With sudden animation, the innkeeper interrupted her. 'I'll not hear of it, milady! I've been terribly thoughtless. You must set up your practice here. I insist. You can use the private dining chamber behind the common room.' He began leading her away by the elbow. 'After all,' he fawned, 'it's for the good of the village.'
She could almost see him counting the stacks of coins in his mind. 'Of course,' she murmured softly. 'For the good of the village.'
The next day, neatly lettered notices had appeared around the village, proclaiming that a traveling physician was now in residence at the Black Boar. While this announcement was remarkable enough, curiosity was heightened as rumors spread that this was no ordinary doctor but in fact a lady from the city. No one could imagine why such a lady would want to journey all the way to a provincial barony like Nartok, stranger still, by herself. By midmorning the common room of the Black Boar was crowded with curious villagers, all hoping to steal a look this most unusual character. in the cramped dining chamber, Mika made certain all her things were in order. Her doctor's tools lay neatly arranged on a white cloth. There was a tin cone for listening to heartbeats, a small silver hammer for testing reflexes, and other mysterious objects. She had scrubbed every surface in the room as best she could, wiping away the dust and mold, and she had polished the grime off the lone window to let in as much daylight as possible. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her white apron and opened the door. A sea of eyes filled the common room, staring at her. A small gasp escaped her lips. She had not expected so many to be waiting. She reminded herself that this was just what she had journeyed here for, then stepped forward, donning her best smile.
'I'm glad you all could come,' she began, wincing at the faint trembling in her voice. She tried to ignore it, and pressed forward. 'My name is Mika. I am the new doctor.' Silence. She cleared her throat nervously. 'Well then. Who… who is to be first?'
No one moved. The crowd continued to stare at her, as if they expected her to suddenly transform herself into a toad, or vanish in a puff of smoke.
'Come now,' she said gently, realizing that most of these people had probably never laid eyes on a doctor before. 'Surely there must be someone who needs my care today, someone with an aching joint, or a fever, or the gout. Really, I don't bite.'
The crowd parted as an ancient woman shuffled forward. Her back was bent beneath her dark shawl, and her skin looked as tough as leather. She led a child by the hand, a thin QVA of seven от eight years with golden hair and large blue eyes.
Mika sighed with relief. 'What can I help you with today?'
' 'Tisn't me, milady,' the old woman said in a cracked voice. ' 'Tis my grandchild here. She's simple, she is. Her head isn't all there. Do you think you can help her, milady?'
Mika knelt to study the girl's face. The child continued to stare raptly. 'Hello,' Mika said. 'What's your name?'
'Oh, she won't answer you,' the old woman said sadly. 'Kaila has never spoken a word in her life, I fear.'
'Is that so?' A thought occurred to Mika. She stood and walked behind.the girl, then clapped her hands together loudly. The old woman jumped, but the girl did not shift her intense, blank gaze. This was not the first time Mika had seen a situation such as this. She turned to the old woman.
'Your granddaughter isn't simple. She's deaf.'
'Deaf?'
'That's right. I'm afraid she cannot hear.'
'Is it a curse?' the old woman asked fearfully.
'Of course not,' Mika said emphatically. She knelt again, placing her hands gently on the girl's shoulders. 'You aren't stupid at all, are you'Kaila? No, I imagine just the opposite.'
Mika smiled warmly. Suddenly the girl smiled back, the expression lighting up her thin face. Carefully, Mika made a gesture with her hands, then motioned for Kaila to do likewise. The small girl hesitated. Then, slowly and deliberately, she copied Mika's gesture. Mika nodded reassuringly and formed the gesture again, then drew the child close in an embrace. For a second, she remembered what it had been like to hold her own golden-haired Lia.
'What was that you just taught her?' the old woman asked, distrustful. 'Was it a spell?' A murmur ran through the onlookers.
Mika shook her head fiercely as she stood. 'Not at all. It's a way of talking with the hands. Some say the hand-speak was devised by alchemists long ago, so they could trade their secret formulae without fear of being overheard. All I know is that those who cannot hear have found the hand-speak to be a great boon. I just showed Kaila how to say 'hello.' Would you like it if I taught you some of the hand-speak?'
The old woman gasped in wonder. 'You mean I… I could learn to talk to Kaila?'
'Yes. I'll need to learn a bit more first, but I have a book that will help. We can start tomorrow, if you'd like.'
'Aye, indeed!' the old woman replied. 'Thank you, milady!' She bent down to hug the girl. 'My, Kaila. Finally I shall be able to tell you that I love you.'
As the old woman and child made their way back through the crowd Mika could not help but beam. Maybe this wasn't such a terrible place after all. 'Well,' she said, holding out her arms. 'Who's next?'
Villagers stumbled over each other in the rush to be next.
With feline grace, Jadis strolled into the Grand Hall of Nartok Keep. The airy hall was filled with minor lords and petty nobles, all bedecked in frills, jewels, and gaudy finery, tittering and whispering among themselves like a flock of colorful, vain, and mindless birds. The baron was holding court today. The courtiers were waiting in the hall, hoping to be summoned into the baron's private antechamber to present him with a self-serving petition or ask some favor. A disarmingly absent smile coiled about Jadis's smoke-ruby lips, concealing her disdain. She despised them all. However, it was custom for a visiting lady to attend court affairs. She had to keep up her ruse.
Gasps rose from a group of courtiers clustered around a performing harlequin. A garish red smile was painted across the clown's blotchy white face. The harlequin was some sort of illusionist, for a trio of shimmering colored
