"We've been drawn into the future, Sunbright, many generations past what we know." Candlemas's voice was urgent. "Everyone we knew in Castle Delia is dead dust. Back then, we would have disappeared, never been seen again. The castle itself was sold, Karsus assures me. Lady Polaris doesn't own it anymore, if she's even alive. He's not sure she is. There's nothing back there for us."
"Nothing for you." Sunbright's face was blank as he tried to sift the information. His people told legends of heroes who traveled from Now to the Elder Days, and met heroes of ages past. Was he doing that now? Better to hear of adventures than live them…
"No. I had no friends in the castle, really, just servants. All I did was slave for Lady Polaris, and get precious little thanks for it." The pudgy mage sounded excited, almost like Karsus. "But this is better. Karsus has invited me to help him work, experiment! And the man knows more magic than anyone, ever!"
Sunbright looked where Karsus kissed the lumpy star. "The man has bugs in his brain! He can't even comb his hair."
"He doesn't need to. He's got five hundred mages working under him, in this part of the city alone! He's the most powerful arcanist the empire has ever seen."
"An empire run by a madman? How long can that last? Are we in another damned floating city? What if Bug-brain here sneezes at the wrong time and loses his concentration-what little he has? You'd need to sprout wings damned quick!"
"You don't understand genius." Candlemas rubbed his bald head. "Anyway, I'm staying here to work under him. Six months' study and I'll know more than Lady Polaris ever hoped to!"
"What about your wheat rust? Weren't you responsible for curing that?" Sunbright had so many objections and questions they just popped out of his mouth. It would take him weeks to sort out this madness.
"See? That's solved!" The mage waved a hand at the ceiling/floor. "That problem's three hundred years back in time! Someone else must have fixed it, or the empire wouldn't be here. And look how rich it's become! Look at the opulence of these work tables, look at the clothes on even the lowest ranked apprentice."
"What about my tribe? I've got to get back-" Then he realized. All the people he'd known would now be dead: his mother, Owldark his enemy, Thornwing, Blinddrum, so many others. He felt his throat constrict. Could a man be more cut off from what he knew and yet still be of this world? Feebly, he croaked, "What about Greenwillow?"
Candlemas huffed. "She's dead. We knew that already."
Within seconds Candlemas was hoisted by his smock, feet dangling as Sunbright rammed him repeatedly against a wall of curlicued plaster. "This is how you honor bargains? Make it someone else's problem? People starved or didn't, but it's none of your concern? Greenwillow's trapped in some hell and you slough it off? I'll tear your heart out, if you have one!"
"Wait, wait!" Candlemas fought to regain his feet, to loosen the stranglehold, to breathe. "I can't get you back! Neither of us can go-" His wind cut off.
"Is he distressing you?" came a voice from Sunbright's left. "Here. Let me…"
Sunbright found himself standing in a street. Night was falling. Gasglobes were just igniting, blotting out the thousand stars.
"Mages! Hand-wavers! Sorcerers! Wizards! Bastards, all of them! I'd like to pitch them off their own floating cities, and hear their bones crunch when they strike the villages and fields they so dearly love to dump on!"
Sunbright groused as he tramped the darksome city. Needing to walk off his anger, he'd stomped for miles in his moosehide boots. Harvester patted his back in a companionable way, but nothing assuaged his black mood. Once again he had no idea where he was, no idea where Candlemas was, had no idea even if he were still in the floating city of Karsus or even in the same century, for that matter. But the K sigil for Karsus was everywhere, so he supposed he hadn't been shifted far: just out of harm's reach.
Walking should have spent his energy, but instead it stoked his anger like a bellows. He cursed freely and often, and stamped so hard his iron-ringed boots set off a metallic ching ching ching. Unusual for a barbarian on foreign soil, he didn't notice much around him, for his mind churned with outrage.
Thus he stumbled on a crime.
Whirling around a corner, he almost bounced off the back of a man vigorously kicking something. Three men, in fact, holding mugs of ale to one side so as to not spill. They grunted with the effort of kicking a tiny something-a child? — with their heavy boots or wooden clogs. They'd have done more damage if they weren't so drunk, but as it was, Sunbright's bellow froze them in mid-kick.
"Halt, you blackhearted swine! Else I split your heads and suck your brains!"
They turned to see Harvester, the hooked tip glistening like a crescent moon. The "child" they'd been kicking sprang up and sped off. Seeing the tiny form run man-fashion, Sunbright wasn't sure it was a child.
"Hoy, help us!" A shrill whistle, and the door to a bar split open to spill light, pub noise, and more assailants.
"He's let our gnome escape!" called one of the kickers.
"Let's get 'im then!" came a roar.
Sunbright looked at a dozen angry attackers. He just had time to wonder what a gnome was before they swamped him.
Chapter 5
Three assailants or nine didn't matter to Sunbright, as long as he had Harvester in his hand. He'd killed more than that in one bad day in the underworld.
Briefly, he wondered if he should kill this lot. Cities were fussy about brawling and fighting with blades, and apt to throw everyone in a jail cell. And since the gnome (whatever that was) had fled, perhaps Sunbright should just flit around the corner and disappear too.
Then someone grabbed his sword arm from behind, another man stabbed a knife at his face, and a woman tried to kick his shins or groin. Smart or not, the fight was on.
His brawny sword arm was trapped above his shoulder so he tensed it to keep it from being twisted, then dealt with the kicker by lashing out with his own foot, blocking her kick and knocking the knife-wielder's arm away.
The narrow street was dark, the only light was the glow from a rose-colored lamp above the tavern door. Painted by the blood-red light, it was hard to distinguish his opponents, but the man looked rawhide tough, scarred, and knotty-jawed; while the woman looked young-still wrapped in baby fat. All three were drunk, which helped. Sunbright would have to test how strong they were.
Stamping his broad, heavy boot on the woman's toes, he pushed straight back to slam his rearmost opponent against the wall. The man, young and perfumed, grunted when he hit the wall, then again when Sunbright added to his grief by smashing his left elbow deep into the dandy's soft belly. When the lad doubled, Sunbright crashed an elbow upward into his teeth. Though the barbarian cut his own bicep, he managed to get his other hand free.
The closest attacker now was the woman, who was wailing about her injured foot. Sunbright distracted her by kicking her jaw out of shape. She whirled and slammed the cobblestones, moaning.
The tough man before him, coarse and smelling of onions, had stepped back when he lost his knife. Evidently he hadn't much stomach for fighting, or else waited for the reinforcements that were spilling from the tavern. They milled drunkenly, yelling, yet Sunbright saw a knife blade, a broken bottle, two or three clubs, even a trio of slim swords. Since he was free, the barbarian thought, now was a good time to disappear around a corner. Someone might get lucky with a quick jab, but Sunbright Steelshanks could run down a deer. He could certainly outrun this lot. He cast behind and left to see if the coast was clear.
A whisper from the dark alerted him. A metallic ching pinged by his ear. He had no clue what that portended, or how to defend against it. Suddenly, a weighted chain hissed around his sword arm. Before the cold steel had even wrapped fully, the man in the street hauled. Twisted links bit the barbarian's arm, and he was yanked forward.