The thief sat atop a plump maid jackknifed over the bed. Candlemas's bed was bare to the striped ticking. Fresh silk sheets and blankets awaited. Piled by the door like rubbish lay the mage's plain wool smock, rope belt, and warped sandals that retained the imprint of his broad feet.
Sunbright was in a hurry, but told the terrified maid, "No harm if you answer. What happened to the mage who dwelt here? Why do you discard his things?"
"He-he's locked in the cellars, sir! He's wounded horrible! They've left him to die! He-I don't know what he did exactly, but he defied Great Karsus and they've-"
Knucklebones tweaked her ear to silence her, said, "Tell us how to get there!"
"No time!" Sunbright countermanded. He grabbed up fresh sheets, tossed them to Knucklebones, and swaddled himself like a servant buried in laundry. "Take us!"
Trained to stay out of sight, the gasping maid brought them down servants' stairwells to the cellars. With a quivering finger she pointed along a dim corridor lined with stone and lit only by a distant window. Four city guards idled, pitching coins against a stout wooden door, grousing at the boring duty.
"Wait here." Knucklebones told Sunbright. "I'll circle around to take them from behind." Towing the trembling maid, she backed away and down the corridor.
But the barbarian couldn't wait. Something impelled him to move quickly, as if he smelled doom in the wind. Drawing Harvester, he stepped full into the corridor. Knucklebones could catch up.
"You guards! Stand away from that door! We've no quarrel with you, we only want Candlemas!"
At his first words, the guards cinched helmet straps and snatched swords from scabbards. Now they assessed their enemy: a barbarian, a big one, armed with a huge scythe of a sword. They knew too that the prisoner Candlemas was important. They didn't know why, but anyone who'd come to rescue him might fetch a large bonus. One of them growled and two guards-a man and a woman-trotted off to circle behind Sunbright, where they'd run smack into Knucklebones.
The guard called, "You can't get out. You'd best lay down your sword quietly."
"I'm sorry, but no."
Sunbright advanced slowly, sword tilted across his chest but ready to sweep down and around.
"I need the man you hold. It's not worth your lives to protect him, so begone."
The guard puffed, shifted to let his partner join him, and both drew silver tipped clubs in their left hands as makeshift shields. They were brawny men, but nothing to compare with Sunbright's height and breadth. The first one, with a yellow beard, craned over his shoulder where the other two guards had gone. A scuffle sounded. The guard muttered something to his partner, then growled, "Rush!"
They charged low, clubs outthrust, swords ready. Sunbright dropped his right foot and shoulder back, cocked Harvester, and waited.
Obviously practiced, the guards swung clubs at the same time, one high, one low, to trap and block Harvester so their short swords could stab for guts. But the barbarian was faster with his trusty weapon. As the right-hand guard struck with ironwood, Sunbright flicked out the barbed tip of Harvester, snagged the man's wrist, and tugged. Razor steel split skin and severed a tendon. Instantly the man's hand went limp, and the club fell. Within a second, the great blade spanked to bat the other club down. So hard was the rap that the guard staggered at the blow. But he lunged on, jabbing with his sword.
Sunbright hadn't time to disarm them. Flicking sideways, he smacked the guard alongside the head just below the helmet. Skin split along his jaw as the strap was cut. Blood spouted from under his chin and he stumbled.
Dismissing that foe, dragging Harvester back quickly, sideways across his gut, the barbarian banged down the upthrusting blade of the other guard. At the same time, he kicked savagely, either for thigh or crotch. His moose-hide boot knocked the man's knee out from under him. Two-handed, Sunbright helped him fall by bashing Harvester's pommel on the back of his helmet. The man's face hit the floor, helmet clanging. Sunbright recovered his footing and kicked the man's head, not caring if he snapped his neck or not. The man lay still.
The bleeding guard clutched his neck with both hands. Blood spurted between his fingers, gradually slowed, and the red hands fell away.
Chest heaving, wiping his sword on a dead man's sleeve and then sheathing it, Sunbright toed over the guards until he found a key on a rawhide thong on a belt. Ripping it loose, he strode to the door, unlocked it, slammed it back.
Inside was dark, but before his eyes adjusted he heard a scrape and gurgle. Stepping into cool darkness, Sunbright latched onto a hairy, thick arm and towed the prisoner out. Knucklebones came, bosom puffing and blood on both hands and her dark elven blade. Sunbright laid his burden down for a look.
Candlemas was a mess. His face was red and blistered, his eyebrows and beard and mustache singed to stubble, his bald head scabbed and seeping fluid. The yellow-red robe was spattered with his own blood.
"Forest of Fire!" rumbled Sunbright. "What happened to you?"
"I tried to… stop Karsus." The mage's voice wheezed, husky, for his mouth and lungs were scorched. "I was lucky. Someone pulled me… over backward… just before th-the… burning hands got me. But Karsus is spelling… to be a god!"
"Be a god?" asked Sunbright. "Become a god?"
"Can he do that?" Knucklebones gasped.
"He can… do anything."
Wincing, Candlemas plied blistered hands to lever himself up, but fell back, coughing and gagging, strangling on fluid gumming his seared lungs. Blood burbled at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, it hurts! He's using the… the star… stealing its power. Anything could happen."
Squatting, Sunbright touched Candlemas on both sides of his face, cooed to him as if to a child. The mage stared as if hypnotized. Then his eyes widened in surprise and he took a deep breath without coughing.
"My!" snorted Candlemas. He hawked and spat, with no trace of blood in the phlegm. "Where have you been studying?"
Sunbright helped him rise and told him, "I'm finally a shaman. I've learned the secrets of nature magic. But I had to die, or almost, to gain the knowledge."
"Great knowledge indeed." Candlemas snorted. But his knees buckled and he fell. "Oh, I'm weak as a kitten."
Stooping, Sunbright grabbed a seared wrist and ankle. There was no time to heal all the mage's wounds, only the internal, dangerous ones. Grunting, the barbarian hoisted the heavy man across his shoulders.
"No, I'm too fat," Candlemas protested. "And your sword gouges my ribs."
Shifting, shoving, Sunbright ignored the protests and slid Candlemas behind his neck. But the barbarian suddenly weaved sideways and struck the wall. "Whoa! You are heavy!"
"That's not you!" Knucklebones bleated. She'd also been hurled against the wall. Fascinated, she stared as a guard's helmet spun loose of its dead owner and rolled down the corridor as if possessed by invisible mice.
The corridor tilted back, and Sunbright fell to one knee. Knucklebones was white, and her fear communicated to the barbarian and the sagging Candlemas. They both asked, "What is it?"
"It's the city!" howled the native. "It's tilting. It's never done that before. It'll fall from the sky!"
Chapter 21
"What do we do?" demanded Sunbright.
"Sita!" Candlemas called as he struggled to get off Sunbright's shoulders, kicked a tilting wall, and pitched them both to the floor. The mage banged singed flesh, but scrambled up like a squashed toad, laid a hand on a slanted wall, and found it quivering. "I must get to Sita!"
"In the name of the eternal mountains," roared Sunbright, "who's Sita?"
"She's…" The mage stopped. He hadn't told the barbarian. "A friend! We need to take her with us when we flee!"