sized chunks, and he wasn't even sure those would be dead.
So he let Wulgreth go. He'd won. He and Knucklebones.
And the natural, growing, living magic that was part of this land.
Sunbright panted, even dropped Harvester's point on bare ground. He pulled up the hem of his spattered red shirt to mop blood off his face. Sweat stung in the scrapes, but he didn't mind, for he was glad to be alive. And to see Knucklebones with a rare smile, 'So the country mouse is a timber wolf on his home ground,' she teased. She ripped loose a sucker-covered arm still stuck to his neck.
He grinned back, examining his arms and hands. The green glow was indistinct in the sunrise, but he knew it had faded.
'More like a firefly,' he said. 'I've used up the magic.'
'So it's gone?'
'No,' he answered, 'it's still here, an ocean of it. Down there.' Moving around the tree trunk, he walked to the fire pit, saw a crack in the earth yards long and wide enough to admit his hand. 'I came up through there, somehow. The magic came with me. Feel it?' He waved a hand as if over a campfire.
Knucklebones shook her head. All she felt were the warm rays of the day's sun slanting through the mutant trees. But she was glad Sunbright could feel the magic, for it meant he'd remain a shaman, and she wanted it so.
'No matter,' he told her. 'I think-I'm sure the nature magic only needed a conduit, someone to care for it, ask its help. It's hard to explain, but from this spot, I believe the nature magic will begin to heal the land, until the corrupt magic of Karsus has leeched away and the forest is balanced again.'
The thief turned at a scuffle and shuffle. Creeping from huts and bushes came the mutants, eyeless, limbless, warty, alligator-skinned, deformed. In the darkness, they'd tortured Sunbright to death and beyond, but by day they looked pathetic and harmless.
'And them?' she asked.
The barbarian hoisted his sword, wiped the blade clean, and marched to the mutants, who cowered before him. Even the testy raptors in their makeshift corrals were quiet, almost docile. Standing tall, arms on hips, Sunbright asked, 'Who's the eldest here?'
A withered crone with blind eyes raised a shaking hand and said, 'I, sir.'
'Then you're chief now, for Wulgreth won't be back. This forest will no longer tolerate him. Nor will it abide torture any more, or raids on your neighbors. You are to become a people of peace from now on, at one with the land. Nurture it, care for it, and it will care for you. The elders can teach you, for they remember when this land was healthy and alive, liked the feel of human feet, and nourished its dwellers. Will you do this thing?'
The old crone bobbed her head and told him, 'We shall, your highness. We shall.'
Sunbright nodded, satisfied. Knucklebones was more skeptical, but realized the mutants probably thought Sunbright a glowing god risen from the earth itself. Certainly they'd seen it, would tell one another and their children in years to come, and so they'd believe, and obey.
Sunbright took Knucklebones's small hand with the brassy bars adorning it and led her to the far side of the camp, where a path wended into the diseased forest. Up high a bird sang, and was answered from afar. Liking the feel of his strong, gentle fist, she asked, 'So they'll heal, get better?'
'No.' The barbarian shook his head as he answered. 'These scars, on people and plants, will remain, and die out slowly, naturally. But the children will be normal, and the seedlings. Nature moves slowly, like a glacier, but nothing can stand before it.'
'That sounds like something a prophet would say,' she half kidded.
He grinned in answer, saying, 'It does, doesn't it? Ooh!'
'What?'
He touched the back of his neck where his horsetail rested.
'Besides all my other aches and pains, now I'm burned on my scalp. Candlemas must be signaling me, as I called him. We'll have to go see.
'But I think I'll wash first,' he added, studying his bloody arms and hands.
'Candlemas?' Knucklebones frowned. 'He's up in the city. How will we get there?'
Sunbright studied the high treeline as if reading the weather. Distantly, he asked, 'Why don't we fly?'
Chapter 19
The game had gotten out of hand. War blazed between Karsus and Ioulaum, and people died by the hundreds.
Candlemas crouched with Aquesita in her rose-painted carriage. They'd tried to cross the city, spiraling out from the castle mound, but the driver kept stalling at obstacles: fallen trees, torn up roads, shattered buildings, bodies, and marching columns of soldiers and city guards. Time and again they had to circle. Aquesita had promised a friend aid, to fetch her from her mansion to Karsus's castle, where no destruction had yet struck, or would. Candlemas had tried to dissuade her, but she refused, stubborn as her famous cousin, and he'd come to watch over her.
But the danger and disasters were more serious than either of them had reckoned, and growing worse all the time.
No one was even sure what the attacks were. Candlemas knew about the super heavy magic exploding runes, and he'd seen many graceful ballista shafts, like arrows from the gods, arc over the city, fall, and explode with tremendous force, tearing up stone and people and trees. The heat ray, too, he'd seen at close hand, and many city towers had been turned to molten slag that coursed down the buildings like candle wax to set innumerable fires below.
Fires raged throughout both cities, far more than city guards with water or mages with spells could ever put out. Smoke roiled along the ground, stung the eyes, dirtied everything it touched. Other magics had been visited upon Karsus's city, and even normal weapons. Something in Ioulaum could hurl rocks the size of houses that crushed whole blocks. And there were many more weapons.
'How can this happen?'
Aquesita cowered in Candlemas's arms as the carriage rattled through back streets. Frightened and angry faces passed by the small windows, some weeping, others cursing and waving their fists. Candlemas knew the throngs were no danger, for the carriage was warded against unwanted entry. But a huge boulder falling from the sky could hash them, along with their carriage and wards. The woman insisted, 'It's not possible the war has gone this badly. Karsus wouldn't let it. He'll stop it. I know he's working on it right now.'
Candlemas said nothing, for he knew Karsus had caused this nightmare. And since nothing rained on his castle, he wouldn't care much, might even be oblivious to it all.
The carriage rattled on, but stopped abruptly and began to back awkwardly. The passengers heard the driver curse. When they stalled completely, Aquesita opened the trap door at the front of the compartment and called, 'What's happening, driver?'
The man's worried face filled the square hole. 'Beg pardon, milady,' he said, 'but they're riotin' again. We can't go for'ard, but I'm hopin'-'
'Rioting?' interrupted the noblewoman. 'Again? Over what?'
'I couldn't say, milady. Malcontents, is all. The guards are seein' to 'em. We'll be right on our way shortly.'
He slapped the trap door shut.
Aquesita plucked a handkerchief from her embroidered sleeve and mopped her brow as she said, 'What could they riot about? Surely even the poor support our efforts in the war. Don't they, Candlemas?'
The mage didn't answer, for he didn't want to lie to his ladylove. He stared out the window at a brick wall. But, no fool, Aquesita demanded an answer, so he finally said, 'They riot for food, Sita. There isn't any for the poor. It's finally run out.'
'What? What do you mean, finally?' She stared at her friend and lover with a blank face. 'How can there be no food?'
