CHAPTER 3: Patched

Fawkes reached down and grabbed the pack then ran back to Bristol. Dropping to his knees, he unbuckled the tight closing straps and dug out the dry medicine bag. He took out a thumb-tall crystal glass, dropped in a pinch from two powders then poured in an amber liquid.

"Damn it!" The cork lid for the tiny glass slipped from his hand and rolled toward the water.

JuJu, having just climbed out let out a yelp and dove for the edge of the walk. One great paw batted the cover back to Fawkes as his dive slid him over the edge and into the water.

He untied the strings holding it furled and unrolled it on the stone floor. 

Fawkes caught the cover, pressed it into place then gave the tiny glass a vigorous shake then set it aside. With great care, he held the old man's head so the medicine he poured in would not run right back out of his mouth.

"You're not joining your nephew today, Bristol. I need you." Setting the cap aside, he picked up the glass and poured it into the old fisherman's mouth.

Bristol shuddered and Fawkes quickly put his hand over the old man's mouth. After another shudder, the old man swallowed then went still.

The swelling shrank from Bristol's face though did not completely leave. His grew more colorful but looked less vicious. The old man's skin took on a ruddy glow beneath his dark leathery tan from all his years on the river, a sure sign the philtre warmed him from the inside.

Heaving out a pent-up breath, Fawkes gently eased the fisherman onto his back. The clothes were still wet and cold. Worried they would undo the warmth from the medicine, Fawkes undressed Bristol. Muttering under his breath whenever the wet cloth clung and refused to cooperate, he finally managed to get them all off. From his pack, he took out a blanket and spread it over the old man.

JuJu climbed out of the water again and gave himself a good shake. He walked over and gave the old man a gentle nudge with his nose.

"We got the philtre into him in time. Now we have to wait for him to wake up." Fawkes put everything back into the medicine bag. Two feet long and a hand tall, the bag was a line of narrow pockets with a buttoned-down flap over each holding a glass vial or narrow finger box, a small wooden box with a snug lid about the width and length of a middle finger. The vials held an array of colored liquids while the boxes held leaf flakes, grated roots, or powders. The two end pockets each held a pair of thumb-tall crystal glasses with fitted button-style tops made of cordwood. Once everything was where it belonged, he rolled it up tight and tied it before stuffing it back into his pack. Getting up, he hung Bristol's clothes by stuffing an edge of cloth into any gap he could find in the walls.

JuJu went around the boathouse and found every notch big enough for him to peer out of then paced between those on the riverside, taking time to glare out each one before moving on to the next.

Smiling at his four-legged sentry, Fawkes sat near Bristol and leaned against the wall. while he waited for Bristol to wake up. The warmth from the orb seeped into him. With the worry and dread that he was going to lose a friend gone, his eyes grew heavy. A hard shove nearly knocked Fawkes over. JuJu nudged him again then looked at Bristol and whined. The old fisherman stirred where he lay. He coughed once then again.

"Gah! What damned shit's in my—" He rolled over and tried to spit which started a coughing fit. Wincing and groaning he struggled up until he was sitting and fell back against the wall. JuJu hurried over and licked his face then sat beside him.

"Good to see you finally awake, Bristol. JuJu was worried."

"Smart fellar." Bristol patted the huge dog. "Thought I'd be on the Bridge In Clouds, not still breathin'." He blinked and stared at the amber-glowing orb. "Riskin' magic again at a time like this?."

"Trinkets like this aren't a risk. And even if it were, you need it." He nodded to the dog that now lay down beside the old man. "You were close to getting on the bridge, though. Luckily JuJu found you."

"Damn good dog." Bristol hugged JuJu. Letting go, he worked his mouth again then leaned over and spat. "Gah! I need rum."

"Oh, sorry. That's the philtre." Fawkes opened his pack and dug down to his wineskin. "No rum but I do have some ale."

He handed over the wineskin. Bristol poured his mouth full of ale, swished it around, and swallowed.

"Better?"

"Ain't rum."

Fawkes laughed.

"S'spose you're why I'm naked with my hinder kissin' somethin' squishy an' cold?"

"Squishy? Oh, haha. Probably mushrooms." Fawkes cleared his throat. "Clothes are wet and hanging." He waved at the boathouse walls. "Couldn't let them undo the philtre's work. How'd you end up in this old boathouse?"

Patting the large dog, the old man took a deep breath and winced. A hand went to his ribs. Though his ribs were not broken and the philtre healed him a good bit, they were still tender and bruised.

"Found Thimmy."

"What? Where?"

"Goin' home from the inn with Parks." Bristol sucked in a couple of breaths.

Who's Parks? before he could ask, Bristol continued. "Saw some Hands draggin' Thimmy towards the docks. We went to help an' Parks got me from behind."

"Parks got— you mean one of you friends is a Hand?"

"Not a friend, boyyo. Just another placards player. We've shared a bottle or two. He's always at Cragjumper's so who'd think he's with the Hand, 'specially with him promising t' help find Thimmy like every other man in the place?"

"Well, damn. And Thimmy's on the ship." Fawkes was not surprised. He and JuJu had tramped all over town with no sign of him.

"Yup. Woke as they were haulin' us up the plank. Saw Thimmy get tossed into the captain's quarters"

Fawkes frowned. He had been planning to help Bristol back to the docks on Boatessa but that was far too dangerous now. "I think you're safer here, Bristol."

"Hmmph, it's why I swam here when they dumped me to die." The old fisherman shivered. "Toughest swim of my life."

"We can try after dark but it'll be another long cold swim."

"I ain't up for another bad swim, boyyo, but you better go. That captain's got odd ... tastes. Ain't expectin' the boy to survive 'til morning."

"Oh, gods." Fawkes hurriedly pulled the medicine bag from the haverpack. "I-I might need this for Thimmy." He tossed the pack to Bristol. JuJu caught it and set it beside the old fisherman. "Not a lot in there but should see you through a night or two."

"Take yer trinket."

"It'll keep you warm. There's a bit of canvas in there along. You can make a little tent to block its shine at night and stay nice and cozy."

"Cozy'll do." The old man adjusted the blanket. "You be careful, boyyo. Get word t' Cragjumper. He'll know how t' get his boy off that ship."

"Sure." Tying the medicine bag, which was also made of river lion skin thanks to Grandfather's obsession with insisting everything possible was waterproof, he took a deep, steadying breath. He ran to the end of the stone walk.  Gritting his teeth, he dove into the cold water.

JuJu jumped in beside him.

The water, as cold as earlier, took a moment to get over but by then he was coming up on the other side of the doors. He swam to shore and climbed out. Sitting on a rock by his slicker, he put on his socks and stepped into his boots. Shrugging on his slicker, he turned to JuJu.

"Let's get to Cragjumper's."

JuJu growled and led him up the bank.