The Moons of Mirrodin by Will McDermott Page B

all but drained from it.
    “That’s my mother’s wedding ring,” said Glissa. “It’s been passed down from mother to son for generations. Nobody knows what the gem is anymore, or the metal.”
    Glissa pulled the ring off the hand and placed it on her own finger. She kissed the fingers of the severed hand and tenderly laid it aside. “It’s all I have left of them.”
    *   *   *   *   *
    A subdued Glissa let Slobad lead her to the back of the chamber and through a small hole hidden in the wall. She crawled through the hole behind the goblin into a small room where Slobad obviously lived. It wasn’t much to look at. He had spread a couple of furs on the floor in one corner. A small table and chair stood in the center and another, larger table was placed against the far wall, covered with small tools and scraps of metal. After hidingthe hole with a small section of wall, Slobad put the flame tube on the table and picked up a knife.
    Glissa stepped back from him, pointing the sword. “Mine’s bigger,” she said.
    “I told you to put that thing away, huh?” said Slobad. “You are one crazy elf, do you know that? Lie down so I can cut your boot off and look at your leg.”
    Glissa breathed easier. “I don’t know who to trust,” she said apologetically. “Just be careful. My ankle is swollen right up against the boot.”
    Slobad came over with the knife, and Glissa kept her sword ready just in case. She held her mother’s ring against her chest as if clinging to the past for comfort. The goblin, however, was as skilled with the knife as he had been with his tools. He sliced right down the boot all the way to the heel, never once touching her metal skin beneath.
    As Slobad pulled away the leather, Glissa could see that her ankle was swollen to more than twice its normal size, and the blades had cut into her metal shin. Green pus oozed from the wounds on either side of her leg. Slobad went to the table and brought back a metal bowl full of water. He cut a strip of leather from the furs and wetted it in the bowl, then used the wet leather to wash off the pus. The goblin then cut two more strips and tied them around Glissa’s ankle.
    “That looks bad, huh?” said Slobad. “I’ve not seen a lot of elves, but I don’t think your ankle should be that color. What you think? I think you lose leg if that pus doesn’t go away.”
    “Let me see what I can do,” said Glissa. She sat up against the wall, dropped her sword on her lap, and placed her hands over the wounds. She knew some healing magic, but in here she could barely feel the power from the trees. What little she could muster she sent down through her fingers, and a few green wisps of energy floated down from her hands to her injured leg. The ankleglowed for a moment, and the swelling went down somewhat.
    “That’s all I can do,” she said. “My magic can heal wounds, but that must be something else, some sort of disease.”
    “Rest now,” said Slobad. “We leave in morning.”
    Suddenly Glissa was suspicious again. “Why?” she asked. “I thought you said it was safe here.”
    “It was until you came here, huh?” said Slobad. “I told you, broken levelers get fixed. Missing ones are replaced. Nobody ever bother Slobad during repairs, huh? I stay hidden here until repairs finished. This was the safest place on Mirrodin, huh? But you destroyed a leveler in the cavern. They will know somebody here. They will look for us. They will find Slobad and you.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Glissa. “I didn’t mean to run you out of your home.”
    “Slobad has no home,” said the goblin, shrugging. “Crazy elf shouldn’t worry about Slobad. Worry about saving leg, huh? Let Slobad worry about Slobad.”
    “My name is Glissa,” she said. “If you help me, Slobad, I’ll give you a home in the Tangle far away from the levelers.”
    “Hmmph,” said Slobad. “Big talk from crazy, one-legged elf. Sleep now. We leave before the second sun