Tymora's Luck - Kate Novak [9]
"No problem," Joel said coolly.
The waiter studied the bard's face, searching his even features for any sign of a lie.
"Except that we could really use a plate of sandwiches and an ale for our friend here," Joel added.
“Yes, I'm parched and famished," the kender said.
"As you wish, sir," the waiter said with a shrug. He hurried off to the kitchen.
"Urn, I'm Joel, a priest of Finder," the bard introduced himself.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the kender replied. "My name's Emilo Haversack. Just call me Emilo." He held out his right hand.
Joel accepted the kender's handshake.
"Finder, hmm?" Emilo queried. "That's another god I've never heard of."
"He's a new god from another world," Joel explained. "Let me have a look at those cuts on your neck before our meal comes."
"I'd appreciate that," the kender replied.
There was nothing in Emilo's tone that was the least bit sarcastic or threatening. His voice and manner were soft and mild, rather different than one might expect from a thief, but also different from the behavior of an innocent man accused of a crime. It was as if the creature were completely indifferent to the violent skirmish his actions had caused.
Joel pulled a stool over from the bar for the kender, and Emilo slid down onto it. Very gently Joel laid his fingers about the kender's bloody neck. Emilo closed his brown eyes, as if he thought the healing might hurt. He re minded Joel of a boy waiting for a birthday gift to be set down in front of him.
Joel noticed Jas looking up at the kender. The woman's face was pale beneath the feathers that covered her flesh. There were tears in her eyes, though whether from shame or self-pity, he could not tell. Noting that Joel was watching her, Jas looked back down at the floor.
Joel returned his attention to his patient. He noticed there were streaks of gray in the hair gathered back from Emilo's temples and fine lines all over the kender's face. In a soft voice, the bard prayed to his god. A dim blue aura of healing energy illuminated Joel's hands and seeped into Emilo's body.
The puncture wounds sealed up easily, leaving little scars, like flea bites. Joel wiped the blood from Emilo's neck with a handkerchief. "That's much better," Emilo said, opening his eyes wide, as if surprised. "You're good at that," he said to Joel.
Joel bowed his head modestly. There was an awkward silence as he realized he was stuck with a chatty kender when what he really needed to do was talk some sense into Jas. "So, where is it you're from, Emilo?" he asked politely.
"Well, I was born and raised in the East, about twenty miles south of Render-more, in a small village called Ten-grapes," Emilo explained. "I've been wandering most of my life. Before I came here I was in the lair of a dragon called Flayze somewhere near Thorbardin. I stepped through a magical vortex and ended up in this city. I've been trying to get my bearings ever since I got here three days ago. I've asked all sorts of people, but not one of them can tell me how to get to any major city or kingdom that I've ever heard of." The kender gave a tiny shrug. "Geography seems to be a lost art among the people of this city."
"True," Joel agreed. "Maps are not particularly meaningful to them."
"We don' need no stinkin' maps," declared a drunken man seated at the bar. He wore a chain mail shirt and carried a double-headed axe. He pointed the axe handle in Emilo's direction. "You don' like that, you clueless sod, go back to Prime."
Jas stood up, whirled around, and took two steps toward the bar so that she stood nose-to-nose with the interloper. If the man had been standing, he would have towered a head taller than the winged woman. In a harsh whisper, Jas asked, "Did it ever occur to you that if you were on a Prime world, you'd be the clueless sod?"
"Never happen," the drunk said with a grin. "Never be so addle-coved that I'd leave the Cage."
"The way you're drinking, it's