Page 81 of Tiger's Trek
“You may. If you enlist the help of my knights, then so be it.” The woman smiled as she said the words, and a shiver went down Veru’s spine.
“So that’s it, then? We schlep water, shear sheep, and harvest grain.”
The woman held up a finger. “And return the sesame seeds. Don’t forget. I’ll need those for my recipe.”
“Right. Return the seeds, both white and black.” Veru turned to Danik. “What do you think?”
“I’ve sheared sheep a few times. Grain is pretty easy. How long will it take you to gather your remaining ingredients, Yuga?” he asked.
Veru was ashamed she hadn’t thought to ask that question herself.
“Oh, I’d imagine about the same length of time as the last. Maybe a bit longer. Will that do?”
“Depends on the size of the herd and the size of the field. Not to mention the amount of water we’re talking about.”
Yugas rheumy eyes twinkled. “Clever boy. Clever. Very well. The size of the herd—you can mark this down, girl—will be no more than two hundred animals. The barrel, you can see here, and the cup”—she picked up a wooden mug and slammed it down—“is right here. As for the water source, it’s larger than a typical stream, smaller than an ocean. Now, for the size of the field... I’d say a team of oxen or horses could plow it in two days. Is that sufficient enough information for you?”
Danik nodded, then gestured to Veru. “Write it all down.”
She did. When she was finished, the old woman said, “Now don’t forget to add on what the two of you are giving up should you lose.”
Veru thought about lying, about changing the wording, but she knew Yuga’s spell would not permit it, so she wrote down the awful words:
If Verusha Irena Vasilia Stepanov and Danik Andronovich should fail to accomplish the three tasks set forth in this contract, then they agree to forfeit their freedom and remain servants to Babushka Yuga for the remainder of their natural lives or until such time as they are released, whichever comes first.
Then at the bottom of the document, Veru signed it with a flourish and slid it over to Danik, who also signed. They spun it around to Babushka Yuga, who pretended to read it for a moment but then groped for the quill and sank it into the pot of ink before stabbing the paper with it and signing as well.
Verusha Irena Vasilia Stepanov
Danik Rodion Andronovich
Bony Shanks
“Very good,” she said, when she was finished. “I suppose all that remains now is for me to leave so the two of you can get started. As I said, your cup is here.” Reaching into her bag, she took out two containers and shook them. “Here’s one container of black and another of white sesame seeds, as promised. When you’re visited by the knights, they can direct you to the field and so forth.”
Picking up her huge stone bowl, she shuffled it through the doorframe. To their surprise, she climbed into it, picked up the large spoon and her bag, gave a command, and the bowl rose into the air with her inside. “I’d say good luck,” she shouted back at them, “but it won’t matter much. Keep ’em alive, Max. I’ll have things for them to do when I get back.”
With that, the door slammed shut behind her, and Danik and Veru were left alone again in the little hut.
“Danik?” Veru said.
“Yeah?”
“What have we done?”
Chapter21
A CLEAN FAST IS BETTER THAN A DIRTY BREAKFAST
“No. Oh no. Did you say it was a Glass of Death? May I see it?” Zakhar asked.
Zima shrugged and handed it to him. Once he had his hands on it, Stacia could see he handled it gingerly, turning it over and over, carefully examining the device.
“I thought so,” he said, after tracing his fingers over the clockwork piece at the top and mumbling to himself as he translated the inscription found beneath the levers. “It isn’t a GlassofDeath; it’s a Glass toSummonDeath.”
“Summon Death?” Stacia said. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Zakhar set it down and wiped his palms on his pant legs. He seemed to be very, very nervous. “I wouldn’t exactly call this a gift,” he said softly, attempting to address Stacia and purposely exclude Zima. “It’s more like a curse,” he hissed in a whisper.
