Part 6A

When Danica finally had no tears left to cry, she stood and shuffled into her lab, hoping to stifle the memories in study. She spent the remainder of the day delving into several spell books, finding many powerful spells of defense and attack she decided she would try to learn upon her return. She might never be a match for the madman Zoraster, but she was determined to try.

She sent for Celes to come to her chambers the next morning. Celes arrived a few minutes later, dressed for travel and carrying a bag.

"Ye're ready ta leave then?" Celes asked.

"No, I wanted to talk. The madman has made another of his sick copies. Andrea..." Danica couldn't go on, she swallowed hard and her lip quivered.

"Och, I was afeared he would. Danica dear, ye have to remember these things are not real people. They have no minds other than what the madman gives 'em. I'm fer doubtin' lil' Andrea knows the thing is about, an' it's not doin' her no harm then. Try ta put it from yer mind, as there's not a lick ye can be doin' about it."

"It's still wrong — the sick fucking bastard," Danica spat.

"Aye, it is. He'll pay one day. One of the dark gods is sure to have his soul when somebody manages ta snuff out his magic and his life. Ye'll have ta content yerself with that dearie."

I'll content myself with nothing short of seeing him dead myself, Danica thought, and then said, "He said you couldn't leave the house in this town. Have you been there before?"

Celes nodded. "Aye. I was foolish enough ta be spotted leavin' a place I'd stolen somethin' the bastard wanted. I was in a rush, overconfident, an' dinna take proper precautions. I was chased by the watch an' had to zap them all with a Static Aura spell ta get away. They don't take kindly ta that, an' apparently at least a few got a good look at me. There's a reward on me 'ead there an' a jail sentence awaitin' me if'n I'm ever found. I got me freedom fer the task, but that's when he punished me wit' the baths fer bein' spotted in the process."

"Do you know this merchant Zoraster wants me to steal from?"

"Aye, I fear I was the one he got the information about the item from. I'ze skulkin' about gatherin' information about the merchant I was to be robbin', an' discovered this one was a friend. I went ta him ta find out what I could from the fella an' found out about the item. T' madman plucked the knowledge from me damn amulet when I returned, even though I didn't mention it. He'd not have known otherwise, 'cause the man lives in a house with walls filled all up with lead mesh. None can scry through the mesh inta his house. Dearie, I'm afeared this task is gonna be hard on ye," Celes said and softly touched Danica's cheek.

"Why?"

"Takin' this thing from this man is the same thing as murderin' his wife. Its power is all what keeps her alive," Celes explained with a sigh.

"Oh dear gods..." Danica covered her face with her hands.

Celes sighed, "I should na have been tellin' ye. Ye know how twisted the man is, if ye fail..." Celes trailed off.

Danica let her hands come down. "Perhaps I can find a way. If not, I'll have to accept my punishment. I will not kill for this bastard's whims."

Celes pulled her into a hug. "I've faced the same thing meself in the tasks the madman has sent me on. It's been a near thing many times. I've always managed to avoid takin' a life needlessly from one who dinna deserve it. I coulda roasted the lot o' them watchmen that night, an' then none who had seen me woulda been around ta put t' bounty on me 'ead. I chose to accept the punishment I'ze sure I'd receive."

"As will I if it comes to that," Danica declared.

"Aye, keep yer spirit an' keep yer convictions. There are some things the madman canna take from ye, ye have to give 'em away."

They hugged again, and Danica said, "I should get ready. Do you know anything about the merchant that might help?"

"I dinna know how much it will help, but 'es in dire straits. Apparently 'is wife was the brains of the business, an' they used the magical item's powers to cut better deals in their tradin'. They was makin' quite a fortune until she fell ill. In the two years since, the man has made a hash of t' business without her knowledge an' the item's magic."

"It's more than I knew before. Let me put together a few things and I'll be ready to go shortly."

Danica gathered up her magical items and several changes of clothing. Since she would be dealing with a merchant grieving over a sick wife, she took mostly unobtrusive clothing, though a few revealing items went in the bag as well. She picked up a few more things from her lab, and then went back out into the room where Celes awaited.

Celes sat turning the carving of Carolyn's nether lips in her hand when Danica entered. Danica blushed when Celes asked, "Takin' up woodcarvin' are ye? Or is this a present from an admirer?"

"Don't be sassy," Danica said, glad that her embarrassment and Celes' coy tone had lightened her mood slightly. "I have another magical crafting in mind, and I think it would be better to make it from wood than from clay. I went and found someone to teach me the basics."

Celes put the wooden block down. "Have ye ever made things before? Like this I mean, 'fore ye came here?"

Danica shook her head. "No, I'd always considered myself to have no real talent — not even in magic. I always thought I'd be rather mediocre at anything."

"Ye're hardly that. This is good, an' I'm assumin' ye've not been workin' at it long at all. Ye'll be as good workin' in wood as clay 'fore long, I'm for thinkin'," Celes said.

Danica blushed again. "Thank you. I suppose I'm as ready as I can be. Let's go and hope I can find a way around my dilemma."

Celes fell into her spell casting, and they vanished from the room.

Danica spent the first day in the town — Gottside — wandering around learning the layout. It was essentially a boomtown, grown over the last five years or so from a rude village by the opening of a road up into nearby mountains cutting a journey between two prosperous cities in half. The town was somewhere near the midpoint between the two and served as a waypoint between them for travelers.

Several temples were under construction, and they were of a style unfamiliar to Danica. Made mostly of granite and marble, they would obviously sport many columns.

The mode of dress the people of the region seemed to favor involved robes or togas. The style was prevalent enough that Danica felt somewhat out of place, but quite a few people who were obviously foreigners wandered about town in styles more like hers. She stood out because of how she dressed, but her style wasn't unique enough to be a curiosity. It didn't really help Danica feel any less self-conscious, however.

The people also spoke the common tongue with a heavy accent. They spoke in their native tongue when talking amongst themselves. The people seemed to switch back and forth between both languages with little trouble.

Danica learned that what Celes had told her about the merchant held true. He was barely making enough to keep himself in business. His name was Corydon Wayreth, and he had apparently recently admitted he needed someone with real skill to keep his books. The pay he offered had not enticed any applicants, however.

Danica had her way into the man's confidence. She was quite sure she could pose as a bookkeeper. Actually, she could likely accomplish exactly what the man needed. She had kept the books of accounts for her mageware shop, and doubted she would have any difficulty organizing the bills and credits.

She returned to the house Celes had teleported them to. It was identical in almost every way to every other house Zoraster used as an outpost, and Danica wondered how many of these dens he had scattered throughout the world. She told Celes of her plan and then lay down to sleep, planning to seek the man out in the morning.

Danica made her way to the man's offices attached to his home the next morning. She found him bent over the books with a confused and frustrated look on his face. He appeared to be in his thirties — not terribly attractive, but not ugly either. A short beard hid his weak chin somewhat, but did little to distract from his hawk-like nose. He looked as if he had slept very little in quite some time. His brown eyes were bloodshot, and his hair of the same hue looked hastily groomed.

"Excuse me sir," Danica said when he didn't even notice her come in. "My name is Andrea, and I hear you are in need of a bookkeeper."

The man started when she first spoke, and then sighed as he responded, "Yes, terribly." He pushed the books away before continuing, "Though I'm afraid I can offer very little pay. Two gold per week plus room and board, until I get things back on track." He sat back heavily in his chair with another great sigh.

"I'm without support or lodging in a strange place. I left my home when I was assaulted by my employer and nobody would believe my word over his. I've used up my meager savings and have no means. I'll take the job if you'll have me."

The merchant's face lit up with obvious relief. "Oh, oh, excellent," he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "I hope you can make sense of this. I fear I have only made it worse," he explained, gesturing at the books.

"Please, let me take a look at them," Danica said and took the chair when he vacated it. She looked over the books that were on the desk, finding a jumbled mess of scribbled notes about the accounts, mathematical errors, and numerous ink spots. This is going to be more difficult than I thought.

"Can you do anything with it?" The man asked hopefully.

Danica slowly acquired a sense of the man's scribbling as she examined the pages. "I believe so, but it will take time." She turned and looked at the shelves behind her as she continued, "Are those the rest of the accounts?"

"Oh, yes, all the books from the first day I went into business are there."

"Do you have any blank account books? I'll have to do a lot of rewriting to straighten this all out I'm afraid."

"Oh, yes, there are some in that trunk over there. If you can straighten this mess out, you will have more if you need them."

"I'll get to work then. Should I take this elsewhere so you can have your office?"

Corydon put his hands before him in an exaggerated gesture of warding, "This is no longer my office. It is a prison with bars of parchment and numbers. Please, stay here and work. My wife always said she could work on the books nowhere else, because the clutter I had elsewhere was too much to bear."

Danica looked around and understood what Corydon said perfectly. The room was a shambles, and the first thing she needed to do was organize it into something that didn't resemble the aftermath of a whirlwind.

"You've been pardoned then," Danica said with a smile. "Go tend to other business and I'll do what I can here."

Unburdened by his books any longer, the merchant laughed. "Oh praise the gods. If you go through that door there, you will find a room you can have as your own. It is the first door on the left. I've had to dismiss all my servants, and I have plenty of room. There is a bath at the corner of the hall, and the common room and kitchen are at the end of the hall. Please make yourself at home."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, making a shooing motion with her hand. "Now let me see if I can make sense of all this for you."

He smiled and bid her good day, quickly — and happily — leaving the small room.

Danica leafed through the volumes on the first three shelves, once she had picked up the room and organized it back into a workable state. The volumes contained the first three year's accounts, penned in a flowing and very legible script. The accounting was correct, and very detailed. Notes written beside some of the accounts stressed the need to pressure the debtors to pay up.

There were only four books on the last shelf. Apparently, those and the two on the table were all that existed from the last two years. The first two pages of one volume on the shelf held the same careful script, and then there was a two-month lapse. After that, chaos reigned.

Danica started there, re-copying the careful records on the first two pages and then delving into the chicken scratches that followed.

Danica developed a regular routine starting that day. She worked on the books from sunrise to sunset, pausing only to take a quick meal at noontime. Danica prepared the meals for herself and Corydon, as he had cooked the first day and Danica did not want to experience that again. He was no more adept in the kitchen than he was with the books. They chatted as they ate and sipped wine afterwards. The wine was very good, and Danica was surprised to learn it was a common local vintage, considered to be quite poor by those who lived in the region.

She would take the dishes to wash them immediately after the meal, and Corydon would go into a room just off the common room where they ate. He would come out just about the time Danica finished the dishes, wish her goodnight, and go farther down the hall to what Danica assumed to be his bedroom.

Danica had tried the door once, but found it locked. She discovered that the lead screened walls prevented her from using her clairvoyance spell to see what was on the other side as well. Testing numerous spells for unlocking doors also proved to be a fruitless gesture.

Danica was pleased to find the home had a tub that drained through pipes in the floor. A stove specifically for heating the water for bathing stood nearby in an alcove, which helped prevent it from overheating the room. Access to water was also just outside of the bath room as well. She spent the time she was drawing and soaking in the bath thinking of and discarding numerous ways to get in the room. Having explored the rest of the house, she knew the item had to be in that room — as well as the man's missing wife.

It took Danica a month, but she penned a final entry and finished the work. She had managed to turn the man's chicken scratches back into legible accounts once more. During the process, she had discovered that there were many accounts left unpaid — most for quite some time — and the total of these accounts was a small fortune. She had to piece Corydon's unpaid accounts together from letters requesting payment because they weren't in the books. If all his debtors paid him, paying his debts would still leave the merchant with a small surplus.

Danica finished the books quite early in the morning, and so she used several sheets of paper to copy down the debts and the debtors, creating a summary of the accounts to show Corydon after supper.

As usual, Danica prepared the meal and washed the dishes when they finished eating. When Corydon came out of the room, Danica awaited him.

"Sir, I believe I have everything in order now. If you will, please come look at this," Danica said and handed him the sheets of paper.

Danica went through the entries and explained everything to him as he leafed through the papers. When she finished, Corydon exclaimed, "I have been living like a pauper, putting off those I owe with promises, and all this has been here all along. I do business daily with almost all these men. They surely knew of these accounts, but simply did not mention them when I didn't. How deplorable."

"Collecting on these accounts and paying those you owe should put you in a position to begin building your business again. You'll have some coin to work with, and having your accounts paid will cause people to have faith in you repaying them, so they will extend you credit."

Corydon sighed. "My wife would surely have tongue-lashed me for days for letting things get so bad. Might you pen the letters requesting payment? I fear that is something else I have always had poor skill at."

"Of course — first thing in the morning. I'll deliver those that are in town myself, and try to get payment immediately. We can use that coin to begin paying off some of your debts, and perhaps set some things right while we wait for payment from the debtors farther away. I hope I'm not pressing too much, but did your wife leave you?"

Corydon smiled weakly, letting out another sigh. "After a fashion. Please, come with me," he said and rose wearily from his chair.

Danica followed, and he unlocked the room he always entered after supper. Danica saw a woman lying on a bed. She was nude and surrounded by a nimbus of magic.

"My wife took ill without warning. In the morning, she was fine — recording accounts in the books. By mid-afternoon, she was burning with fever. The clerics and herbalists and alchemists all said there was nothing they could do. I could not bear to lose her, so I used the power of this magic necklace to put her in this state. She will not die, will never age, and her pain is ended. I come and talk to her each night — though I know she cannot hear."

Danica looked closer at the woman as Corydon spoke. Though well-shaped, the woman was not particularly remarkable in any way, and a bit heavy in the hips. Likewise, she had an attractive face, but was not particularly beautiful. Her hair was done up in a severe style atop her head. The image she conjured up in Danica's mind was one of a crotchety school marm. The woman's body glistened with beads of sweat frozen in time, and her skin appeared flushed.

Something struck Danica as familiar. She thought she saw red spots on the woman's lips and inside her ears. "What symptoms did she show other than the fever when she took ill?" Danica asked.

"Her tongue swelled up, she could take no water, and could not speak. She thrashed around and her eyes were all red..." Corydon explained, reliving the painful memories.

"What about here?" Danica asked, moving her hand over her loins.

The merchant flushed and opened his eyes wide. "I was hardly thinking about anything like that."

"I'm sorry; I do not mean to be crude. I think I know this sickness. Small bumps like blisters appear there in women who have it. My mother and sister both got the disease when I was about fourteen"

"It must have been hard to lose them so young," he said looking at her with sympathy.

"I didn't lose them. Fortunately, the midwife who served as the only healer in the village had learned her lessons well from her mother, who had dealt with the sickness before. She knew of potions that cooled the fever for a time, as well as one which diluted the poison in the blood that causes most of the other symptoms. With the immediate danger of the fever constantly lessened by the potions, she was able to fight the poison and eventually break the sickness. My mother and sister both recovered with no sign of the sickness in time. I know the potions she used, because I helped to make them each day. If I'm right, I think I can save your wife. If you can get clerics to come, it will be quicker. I can tell them about the sickness so they can direct their prayers correctly and hasten her recovery."

"I-I never dared to hope. Are you sure? None can touch her while she is under the necklace's spell, and once I remove it she will be in great pain. I fear death will come to take her quickly."

"I can't be sure until I have looked here," she said covering her loins once more, "but I'm almost certain. Can you reactivate the magic if I'm wrong?"

"Yes, though it takes some time — I fear too long. The clerics were preparing to offer final rites to her when I finished it last time. They said she had but hours to live, and it took nearly an hour to speak the necessary words."

"It will only take me a few seconds to examine her and see if I'm right. Before we go farther, I must tell you something. I'm not what I have told you. I was sent here to take that very necklace from you. I think I can save your wife, but I must have the necklace if my suspicions are correct and she has the sickness I told you about."

"If you have lied to me, how am I to trust you in this?"

"I'm here against my will. I have no choice. I have to get the necklace or be punished in ways you wouldn't want to think about. I had no idea how I was going to get it without sentencing your wife to death. Now I have the means. Let me save your wife and take the necklace so that I can avoid the terrible punishment that I will receive if I fail in this task. If I'm wrong, and the disease is not the one I know, you can reactivate the magic and I will take my punishment rather than cost your wife her life."

"Your words ring true. Very well, what do we need to do? Let us help each other."

"Is there anything you need to enact the ritual of the magic if I am wrong, other than the necklace?"

"No, it is simply a series of complicated phrases which must be read."

"Let me copy down the list of things I need to make the potions." Danica pulled out her purse of coin. "Use this to persuade the herbalist to leave his home at such a late hour. Bring a cleric if you can. We will need to have a tepid bath drawn, and we will need strong hands to hold her down until the potions take effect, and to carry her to the tub." Danica finished penning the ingredients she needed as she spoke. She handed it to Corydon and said, "Take this and show it to the herbalist, but bring me the book with the ritual first. If necessary, I will perform it. I'm skilled in magic and may be able to complete the ritual more quickly, making it less dangerous for your wife if I'm wrong. Bring some of your workers when you return. Four strong men, because she will be writhing in pain and delirium the moment we break the necklace's enchantment. Now go bring me the book and fetch what we need."

Corydon crossed the room, opened a drawer, and withdrew a book. He brought the volume to Danica, and then ran out of the room to follow her instructions after a final nod.

Danica looked over the book, finding the marked page recording the ritual. She understood why it had taken the man an hour to enact the ritual as soon as she saw the words. Written in the language of magic, it would have been very difficult for someone not schooled to read it. She was confident she could perform the ritual in a quarter of that time.

She hurried to the bath to heat water, and then went to the kitchen to do the same for the potions. While in the kitchen, she gathered up several glasses and took them to the sickroom. From there, she returned to the bathhouse to fill the tub and put on more water to boil, so they could keep the bath at the proper temperature.

Picking up a whistling kettle of hot water, Danica returned to the room where the woman lay. She heard the front door bang open, and heard many hurried footsteps approaching.

Corydon entered the room followed by four of his workers, a sleepy looking but handsome man in the hastily donned robes of a cleric, and a thin, mousey man carrying a large bag. "I have them, and he has the things you requested," Corydon breathlessly said, pointing to the man with the bag.