Yon Ill Wind Read Free

more thyme.
    Nimby ducked down behind a pile of rocks near the plant.  This form was good at ducking, because of the aqua duck component.  He wouldn't be able to see the girl very well from here, but neither would she be able to see him, which was what counted.  Of course, he could use his awareness to see her without eyes, but it was easier just to listen for her approach while he rehearsed his moment of speech.  He wanted the fewest feasible diversions for this practice.
    How could he get her to listen without speaking?  Maybe if he made a straight quacking noise, she would think he was a duck, and would pause, unworried.  All he needed was to get the first few words in, warning her just to listen, and then he could run off the whole spiel.  Fortune, with her constant bad luck, had surely learned to react cautiously, so well might listen in silence, for a time, anyway.
    His donkey ears twitched.  She was here!  She had approached with her soft step while he pondered.  She was standing at the edge of the thyme plant's limit; his awareness saw her human feminine form.  He had almost missed her.  He had not an instant to waste.
    “Quack!  Quack!” he said in his ducky voice.  “Please listen to me without speaking, for I have information of interest to you.  I know of your problem with your talent, and I can help you reverse it, for my own talent is to make a person whatever she wants to be, as long as she is in my company.” So far so good; she had not made a sound.  But he had to get in the rest before his moment ended.  “I am a friend, but I am not human.  I have an ugly form, but I have no wish at all to harm you.  I need the company of a person like you, and I will do my best to make my company worthwhile.  To justify your trust.  But after this, I will not be able to speak again; I will be completely mute.
    So you will have to tell me what you desire.  Stay with me, and you can be what you wish to be, as long as we are together.  I wish only to win your friendship.  Please do not be dismayed by my appearance, which is awful.  I am completely harmless to you, for I will suffer without your company.” Had he covered enough?  He couldn't tell her more about himself; he had come as close to the truth as he dared.  But maybe he could offer an explanation for his form, so she wouldn't scream and run away when she saw him.  “I am an enchanted creature, not entirely what I seem.  My fate depends on you.  Now, if you care to look at me, look at the pile of rocks to your right.  I will lift my head and nod, and thereafter be silent.  But you can talk to me, and I will understand, and do what I can for you.
    Please trust me.  My name is Nimby.”
    He had said enough.  Now it was make-or-break time.
    Slowly he raised his head and peered over the rocks.  There she was, and—
    It was the wrong girl.
    “Oh—a funny donkey!” the girl exclaimed.
    And now Nimby was mute, per the contest rule.  He had had a good long moment, longer than expected, and had spoken well.  But how had he come to this mistaken connection?  He extended his awareness out and back, tracing the girl's travel here, and in a moment he had it:  Miss Fortune's bad luck had struck again.  There was a crossing of two paths, just beyond a wide wallflower, and she had collided with another girl.  The two had had their breaths knocked out, and had sat down on opposite sides, gasping.
    Then they had gotten up, brushed themselves off, made quick curt apologies to each other though each was sure the other had been at fault, and gone on their ways—down the wrong paths.  Fortune had gone on the other girl's errand, which was to fetch a nice bow from a bow-vine so her mother wouldn't give her a punish-mint.  And the other girl had gone on Fortune's errand, and had been just realizing her error when Nimby had spoken to her.
    She was Chlorine, whose talent was poisoning water.
    She was plain, stupid, and mean-spirited, in