The Seascape Tattoo by Larry Niven

“Usually Agathodaemon’s a much better judge of character. Even the simplest creatures can sense antipathy.”
    â€œI don’t hate snakes.” Aros glared. “Their meat is stringy but excellent.”
    â€œWarrrm…,” Agathodaemon said.
    Neoloth chuckled and raised his arms. “Come to me, my sweet.” The snake slithered to him, coiled in his lap, and became still.
    They lay quiet for a time. Neoloth seemed restless. Finally, he spoke. “I set the land-kraken on you.”
    Aros sat bolt upright. “What ? ”
    â€œThe matter of the liquid diamonds. Not something I’d think you’d forget.”
    Aros’s mind raced. “The … land…” Then he sat up. “You bastard !” he said. “I still carry the scars. It’s why I avoid cold weather.” He rubbed his left elbow in memory.
    Neoloth smiled. “That was me,” he said. “You should be grateful.”
    â€œGrateful?” Aros roared. “Why in the hell?”
    Neoloth shrugged. “I needed those diamonds. I had a fireworm in my gut, and the only remedy was to bribe her out of my body. I just couldn’t let you get them. I was at my height of power then and could have just fried you with lightning.”
    Aros narrowed his eyes. “So why didn’t you?”
    Neoloth considered. Then he decided to tell the truth. “I … respected you. As an honorable adversary. Wanted to give you a fighting chance.”
    Aros stewed over this for a while and then grudgingly nodded. “Well, thank you. I look forward to returning the favor. As soon as possible.” Then he lay back and pulled his blanket over his face.
    *   *   *
    The travelers were up, breakfasted, and traveling before morning sunlight crept across the desert.
    Following an invisible map in Neoloth’s head, they passed a cluster of boulders that seemed somehow out of place, as if they had been tumbled like a child’s blocks. In addition, the stubbly trees were atilt, as if they had been torn up by the roots and jammed carelessly back into the earth.
    â€œWhat is this?” Aros asked, uneasy now. His hands hovered around the hilt of his Macuahuitl.
    â€œI’m not sure.”
    Aros hopped down off his horse and poked around. “The ground is hard here … but not too hard for footprints. What do you make of this ?” He traced Flaygod’s flat tip around an impression the size of a child’s body. At first Neoloth thought it a sinkhole or a place where an oblong boulder had been rolled away. Then he spotted four smaller indentions above it.
    Toes. A footprint.
    â€œA mountain troll,” Neoloth said.
    â€œWe’re a long way from the mountains,” Aros growled.
    Fandy’s large, soft eyes protruded. “Oh my. Oh my. We should be going.”

 
    TEN
    The Grave
    Two hours before the sun buried itself in the western horizon, Aros asked, “Do you ever intend to tell me where we’re going?”
    â€œAlmost there,” Neoloth said. Draped around the wizard’s neck, Agathodaemon flickered his tongue and hissed. The snake was content. Judging by the swelling in its belly, Neoloth had fed it, although Aros had not seen the moment of truth. Neoloth stroked his pet, perhaps as much to annoy Aros as anything else. “What, dearest? Where do we go?”
    â€œThis is ridiculous,” Aros snarled.
    â€œShhh.”
    They traveled a bit farther and then Agathodaemon pulled back. “Here,” Neoloth said. The serpent slithered down from the horse’s flank, curled around its leg, and then crawled across the ground to a heap of rocks Aros had missed on first glance. A cairn. Agathodaemon crawled all the way around the heap. And then coiled, forked tongue flicking. “Heeeere.”
    Aros frowned. “This is it? It’s not even marked.”
    Neoloth had grown thoughtful. “No, it