Free An Apocalyptic Need by Sam Cheever Page B

her as a memory surfaced of being hit by a blaster aboard the Stellam .
    “You will feel tenderness for a bit, child. But it will pass in time.”
    Cari sucked in a surprised breath. A bright green, cone-shaped hat bounced toward her, its wearer either walking on his knees or exceedingly lacking in height. “Who…?” She shoved onto her elbows and rested, panting with fatigue as a tiny man with strange, rounded features clambered up a rough-hewn wooden stool. “Where am I?”
    He grinned, showing large, yellow teeth. “Who am I? I am called the Healer. Where are you? You are in my lair. Now…” He patted her leg with a warm, gnarled hand, the fingers of which were much longer than normal. “—You must take your medicine. I believe your young man is preparing to leave.”
    She frowned at the glass vial of thick, black liquid. “What is that?”
    Holding it with the tips of his spidery fingers, the Healer pushed the vial toward her. “No more questions, child. Or I will have to start charging you for the answers.”
    With that threat, Cari realized the little creature was a gnome of myth. She’d never met one before. Had, in fact, doubted their existence at all. But what she’d heard, and dismissed as exaggeration, was that they never did anything without payment. Usually in the form of favors.
    Which meant someone had had to pay for her healing.
    Then his words sank in. “My young man?”
    He sighed, pushing the vial into her hand. “Drink.”
    She sniffed it and gagged. It smelled like the bottom of the latrine on the ship. “I can’t drink this.”
    The little man cocked his head. “I was told you were a soldier.”
    “I am. But this is…” She grimaced, shuddering.
    The Healer merely lifted a shaggy eyebrow.
    Shamed by his obvious belief that she was being a weeny, Cari lifted the vial to her lips, her stomach lurching again at the putrid smell. She tilted the slim vial before she could change her mind, dumping its contents quickly into her mouth. It rolled over her tongue like sludge and oozed down her throat, leaving behind a thick coating that tasted like tar.
    She gagged again, shoving the vial back in the gnome’s direction with disgust. “Good god that’s horrible. I think I’d rather be in pain.”
    The Healer grinned widely. “I am glad to hear it. That is the toad grease. Terrible, terrible stuff.”
    She felt the blood leaving her face. “Toad grease. Ugh. What does that do?”
    He climbed down from his stool and waddled across the room, a frizzy gray braid following along behind. “Nothing. It is merely to make the potion taste bad.”
    She stared at him in disbelief. “It does nothing? What would the potion taste like without it?”
    He climbed another stool and dumped the vial into a large sink. Soap bubbles splashed into the air and he poked at them with a spidery finger, smiling widely. “I’ve been told it’s not unlike peaches and crème.”
    Cari dropped her feet over the side of the table, twisting her torso gently to test her back. “You seriously mean to tell me you deliberately made that concoction taste like the contents of a dog’s butt?”
    He shrugged. “Of course. It is medicine. It should taste like medicine.”
    “You realize you’re like a reverse Mary Poppins, right?” She carefully slid to her feet. The room spun.
    “Is that a question?” He dried his hands on a white cloth and cocked his head again. The tall, pointed hat tilted sideways and would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed it. His features softened when he saw her sway. “The dizziness will pass, child. I’m afraid that’s a side effect of the toad grease.”
    “You mean the nasty tasting stuff that does nothing medicinally but which you added anyway?”
    He jerked his head once in a nod. “Precisely. I see you’ve been paying attention. That is a vast improvement from the other one. He has a head full of hay feathers, that one.”
    Cari opened her mouth to ask whom he was talking about,