THE SEA HAG by David Drake

For a moment it looked as though steam and mineral-rich vapors were growing thicker over the south headland. Something like a vortex reached out of the clouded land, climbing higher—

And exploding into brilliant crystalline radiance as it rose into the plane of the sunset. Emath Palace was growing while Hale and his unseen son watched and wondered and thought about the bargain which the sea hag had sealed in crystal.

For a moment, the light on the sprouting towers was as dazzling as the heart of a ruby. Then the light faded; the world faded; and Dennis stood in a dim, musty room, looking at Chester and shivering.

Dennis started to speak and found he had to cough to clear his throat of dust from the velvet. “Did it really happen?” he asked quietly.

When Dennis entered the wizard’s chamber, he’d thought he was a man whose father treated him like a boy. Now that he’d seen what it might mean to be a man, he was no longer sure what he was.

But he knew what he would try to be.

“The device shows only what has happened, Dennis,” Chester said, waggling a tentacle over the machine that was again cold and dark. “It shows that or nothing.”

“Then—” Dennis’ mind struggled out of the memories that enmeshed it like tendrils of brown and purple hair gaping into red terror.

“Then,” he repeated firmly, “did I have an elder brother who was traded for the kingship?”

“I do not know if you had an elder brother.”

Dennis grimaced toward the doorway, steeling himself for what he must do next. He had to demand an explanation from his mother, despite the tears and waves of guilt with which she would flood him.

“But,” the little robot volunteered unexpectedly, “you became my master at your birth, Dennis; and that was a year to the day from when the sea hag bargained with your father, as we saw.”

Dennis found that his hands were stiff because he’d been clenching them since… he wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing that, trying to control his emotions by keeping a tight grip on all his muscles. He stretched deliberately, knowing that he couldn’t relax but he could keep his tension from hurting him.

“Chester,” he said, “you showed me how my father became king. Can you show me what happened wh-wh-when his son grew to a year old?”

“I will show you, Dennis,” said the robot, his tentacles waking the pedestal to colored life again. Their motion paused.

“Dennis,” he said, “the man who does not resent his fate has a good life.”

“I…” said Dennis. “Please show me how Hale met his bargain, friend.”

“I will show you, Dennis.”

There were rooms beyond this one in the wizard’s suite—a bedchamber; surely a library; and whatever else only gods or devils knew, and Dennis had no desire to learn. The youth rubbed his palms together to work off nervousness without clenching them again.

The room faded into a sky as thick as velvet and almost as black.

Dennis was on/in/over a vessel again on a stormy sea, but this time the boat was even smaller than The Partners. It was an open net-tending skiff like the one—perhaps the very one—in which Hale had rowed to sea these three weeks past.

Hale sat on the midships thwart, resting his oars on the gunwales and looking toward the horizon with a face as grim as the encircling storm.

Hale was not yet the man Dennis remembered as his father, but neither was he quite the fisherman standing transfixed by horror on the deck of The Partners. Instead of homespun linen, Hale wore a silk tunic next to his body and covered that with blue-black wool from the Islands of Hispalia.

Around Hale’s neck was a triple chain of heavy gold. Though the chain’s lower curve was hidden beneath the garments, Dennis knew that the royal seal of Emath hung there as it always did when his father was awake.

Hale’s face was fleshier than it had been when he was a fisherman, but emotions pulled it into a rictus almost as inhuman as the visage of the little creature next door in a bubble of glass.

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