Bramblepoint Dump her on a doorstep

The scent of garlic burned in his nose and in his lungs, but he breathed through it just a little easier. It still took a few steadying breaths before he could speak again — he gave an unsteady nod in the meantime, answering that, yes, he did know how to fish.

He said it aloud, when he could.

"My master taught me," he said, laying down on his belly to rest. His voice was just a little hoarse, but he was used to these attacks, and had learned how to force himself to stay calm through them, beginning to end. "To fish and to hunt. I travel on my own — I must catch my own food."

He picked up the garlic delicately between his teeth and carried it to the lazy swell of the river. It made a satisfying plop! as he dropped it in, sinking first, and then rising slowly to the top. Iridescent oil snaked up to thinly ring the bobbing root.

"My lungs have always been poor," he admitted, turning his face back to the boy. "My parents feared I would never make it to adulthood. But one must be strong even when their body is weak. And, of course, one must also be clever."

He winked, and then turned back to the garlic in time to see a dark shadow darting up from underneath it. Aureli surged forward and snatched a large catfish from the water, tossing it in a wide arc so that it would not fight free and fall directly back in.

"You try," he said, breathless again. "Watch the garlic — the scent brings them up from the bottom."