"Where have you been?" the pudgy mage whispered.
"Adventuring." Sunbright talked in a whisper as well. He sat on the edge of the bed and it creaked under his weight. The elvish thief stroked the bedposts and made glowing stripes that cast a wan light.
"I see you've been treated well," the barbarian said, "Can you have food fetched? The children are hungry."
"What?"
Candlemas rubbed his eyes. He noticed that Sunbright had a few new, livid scars and wounds wrapped in dirty bandages, but was otherwise the same.
"Who are these people?" he asked, "How did you get in here? What have you been up to? How have you managed to survive in this city without any money or contacts?"
Sunbright answered with a snort, then, "Get some food and we'll tell you. It's an interesting story. And I'm hungry too."
Grumbling, Candlemas tugged on a robe and rang a bell. While the visitors hid, he ordered a night maid to fetch a platter, enough to last him all day if necessary. She left without a word, returned shortly with a silver platter heaped with loaves of bread, cheese, wine, fruits, cold sausage, raw vegetables and sauces, even delicate jam tarts.
Sunbright and the rest came out of hiding, the children gazing wide-eyed at the food. When told to dig in, they ate like wolves. Sunbright stuffed cold roast into a hollowed loaf and tore off chunks with strong white teeth.
Candlemas took mulled wine, sat in a wing chair, and said, "Now will you tell me what you've been up to?"
Sunbright told him, leaving out nothing. The list of dead guards made the mage shake his head. When the barbarian had finished, Candlemas related some of his work, marveling at the contrast between them. Sunbright battled spidery trackers and killer guards in the sewers while Candlemas perched in luxury and explored esoteric magic. It was hard to believe they spoke of the same city. Candlemas didn't mention Aquesita.
The northerner nodded at Candlemas's observations, as if they confirmed his own suspicions. He picked up a bottle and smashed the neck against the table edge, for he didn't recognize the enchanted corkscrew next to it.
"So this Karsus is the wild-eyed nit who pitched me out into the street? And he just builds magical things and destroys friend and foe alike, and no one stops him?"
"It's even more insane than that," Candlemas sighed. "Karsus has no friends, only slithering toadies who slobber after him like idiot dogs. I suppose he has foes-other mages or archwizards-but they're nothing compared to him. Karsus has whole teams of mages dusting off war machines and enervating them with this new magic. He's like a boy in a sandbox, building tiny cities and stamping on them. And there is no one to stop him. All the archwizards in the city bow to Karsus. He owns whole tracts of the city anyway. He built it. And no one dares speak out for fear of assassination. You remember Lady Polaris?"
"The white-haired woman who got us out of hell?"
Sunbright didn't see Knucklebones's one eye go wide.
"Aye." Candlemas sipped wine. "There's enough of her now for three women. She hides all day in a dark room preening and stuffing herself like a pig. She has no concept of the danger the empire's in, and doesn't care. She's probably representative of all the archwizards."
Sunbright nodded. The children had stuffed themselves until their stomachs were round and their heads drooping. The barbarian ferried them to Candlemas's huge bed. The mage didn't comment on how they dirtied the sheets.
Returning, Sunbright said, "The empire's rotten to the core, and I know, for I've seen the core. I've felt this abuse of nature and magic, and had visions of destruction-whole cities collapsing-so it can't be far off. It emphasizes your words."
Candlemas waved away dreams. Hard facts interested him more, and he had plenty. He found himself echoing Aquesita, defending her position. "It's not all bad, and need not lead to devastation. Magic can be a force for good, too, don't forget. Tamed, it's the most powerful force in the universe. It's Karsus who's abusing it. Were he to disappear, the empire could regain its senses and climb to new heights-"
"No." Sunbright cut him off, shaking his head. "All things come to an end. A tree grows tall and strong, crowding out its neighbors, but it always grows too large eventually, and rot sets in, and the core collapses, and a strong wind knocks it down to destruction. Its children may take root, may survive and grow in their own way and in a new direction, but the tree is dead and gone, its body serves as food for the young ones."
"A simplistic view. Something for a shaman to lecture children with," Candlemas snorted. "The empire has much greatness about it, and it's not dead yet."
What would Aquesita think of those words?
"I may be an ignorant barbarian, but I have eyes." Sunbright nodded toward the bed, where petite snores whistled. "Those children were abandoned by their parents, or orphaned by your empire's guards. A race that feeds on its young won't last more than one generation, let alone forever. And you said yourself no one's opposing Karsus and his cronies."
Candlemas was disturbed by the simple logic. He wondered if Aquesita knew anything of abandoned children. Wondered, too, if she'd ever wanted children of her own? And did he? But he was daydreaming.
"How did you get into the castle?" he asked Sunbright, trying to clear his mind by filling it with a few facts. "It's covered in glyphs at night, and patrolled regularly."
Sunbright nodded to his traveling companion. "This is Knucklebones, another child of your empire, but one it can't kill. She sneaked us in here. Actually, the children had no trouble either. I'm the clumsy one."
"How do you do?" said the mage formally. Knucklebones only nodded. Rising, she left the table and slipped out into the hall. "Where's she going?"
The barbarian raised his palms. "I've no idea. I ask her questions, and sometimes she answers. She's had a hard life."
Haven't we all, thought Candlemas unkindly, saying nothing but, "So what are you about?"
"We're hiding." Sunbright sorted through the food as he spoke, looking for whatever would keep and storing it in a haversack. "I've killed so many of the city guards I suppose I'm an outlaw, though I don't think any have escaped me to report back. Your city's guards are the scum of the earth. They'd crush a child's skull under their boots and turn it in for a bonus."
"It's not my city," Candlemas corrected. But he thought of Aquesita. It was her city, the good parts anyway.
For answer, Sunbright only looked around the opulent suite lit by stripes of white light. The mage found himself stammering, "Karsus is-is grateful we, uh, retrieved the, uh, fallen star, is all."
Sunbright grinned like a wolf. "I've got scars and dead companions to attest to his gratitude."
Miffed, Candlemas banged down the goblet. "To get back. What are you about?"
Sunbright popped grapes in his mouth, then used a goblet of spring water and a satin napkin to swab grime off his wounds. "I'd like to get down to the ground with these little ones. It's not safe in the city for us. For some reason Knucklebones can't guess, the guards actually expended time and coin to fashion those spider golems to kill us. I'd like to ask you-please-to work your shifting spell and get us down to earth. We can't use a transgate, whatever that is, according to Knucklebones. But we must leave, so we came to you for help, though we'll be parting company now."
There was a touch of regret in his voice.
Candlemas was surprised by a pang too. Sunbright was not exactly a friend, but was more than an acquaintance, and a familiar link to the past. Certainly Candlemas had no friends here. Except Aquesita.