Part 11 (1/2)

A small woman, stripped to leathers, barefoot, brass knuckledusters winking on both hands, called in a steady voice, ”I am Knucklebones of Karsus I have listened to the tales of your tribe, and the argu or too old or too ailing to fight ht!”

Tuued, ”He is none of those!”

Knucklebones answered, ”He was ailing before he began the fight!”

”But she's not one of us!” came a cry

”No matter!”

More noise, customs, and curses hurled back and forth

Knucklebones cut to the chase, pointed her finger at Magichunger, and called, ”Do you accept?”

”I do!” the

”Then stand aside!”

Stooping, Knucklebones caught Sunbright's arm, levered hi hands Sunbright finally found his voice ”You're a ift from the Gods,” she quipped She picked up his sword ”I said I'd help however I can”

Helpless, and knowing protest was useless, the shaue ”You'll need a few years'

practice to heft that sword,” he said

”This pig iron? This crowbar?” A brittle laugh ”I've all I need here”

Handing the sword past the ring, the tiny thief approached the towering Magichunger He'd wrapped a hasty bandage around ribs, his only wound The redhead sneered, ”Sunbright sends a half- grown girl to fight?”

”I've seen forty suht blinked He hadn't known she was that old! ”And I talk with this!”

Stooping to a knife-fighting stance, she whipped out her long elven blade Dark, casting no reflection, it seeer watched as if hypnotized, a chicken staring down a hawk He ht has to fight the next duel If you kill ht the rest”

”One battle at a time,” cooed the veteran of a thousand duels ”First, I'll flay your stinking hide See if you have a heart”

Despite his long sword, Magichunger gulped, but he grabbed the pommel two-handed, cocked it over a shoulder, and aimed to slice the thief in half Knucklebones tensed

”Hold again!” booing in his ht lifted his head at the new interruption Monkberry wept tears of joy ”There,” the old woman said, ”is our miracle!”

Chapter 10

”Praise Jannath the Golden Goddess! It works! It works!”

Carried away, Candlerabbed the first person at hand, a wispy lesser hed to see the chubby rabbed their hands and swung all three in a circle Farathered to witness the miracle, clapped their hands and hooted and stamped their feet

The scene was a remote valley amidst steep hills covered with ash and elm trees, bottomed by a trio of jewel-like lakes At the head of the valley was a ses The floor of the valley, split by a glistening strea lots, but quartered with georain crop: wheat, barley, rye, spelt, oats, bran, tie over the streaicians capered like children

”Whew!” Candlemas huffed to a halt Two hundred and fifteen years old, he was still in his priood food had slowed hiy and bald with a bushy black beard, an observer would never know Candle mentalist of his time In fact, hardly anyone in the Netherese Empire, archwizard or lowest peasant, knehere Candle years- ”I've done it! We've done it, for you've all helped, es shall sing praises to your names! But come, let us watch!”

With broorn hands, Candle his head high, he could see how, ahead in a wandering line, wheat was stained a bright red like rust But when he brushed the stalks with his hands, the red dust was knocked free to shi+mmer down like fiery snow and disappear aht

”Oh, they will sing praises to ht prophesied!”

”Milord?” asked Jacinta, as thin and colorless as wheat ”What prophecy is that?”

”Eh? Oh, it was-it's a long story,” he said ”Neveron the barley!” He let out another fierce howl that al, and stood puffing and grinning

”You see,” Candlees, ”I knew, I mean, a shaan-as it-four years back? Froht it to my attention in Castle Delia, and ordered me to fix it-as if that were simple The rust ate the heart of the wheat, hollowed the kernels into erains, even jumped to apple trees and peaches, which made no sense A disease stays with its host, usually It doesn't attack everything living I thought we'd never figure it out, but a friend of mine, a barbarian shaman if you can believe it, prophesied I would find a cure, and we have!”

The e's voice trailed off as he re to the future How frustrated he'd been as steward to the estates of Lady Polaris, when suddenly he was ripped up and transported to the future, where he witnessed the destruction of the empire

And he reoal in life, and succeeded

This ht out a potion, one of thousands he'd experimented with It contained bris, fennel and cuckoo's pintel, and lungwort and foxglove He'd chanted to Mystryl, Mother of Magic; and Jannath, Grain Goddess, She Who Shapes All He'd invoked spells by the dozen: Prug's plant control, Anglin's wall, Fahren's glitterdust, Shan's web Then, kneeling, al with exhaustion, he'd duleaht

And performed a miracle For the earth bubbled and seethed where the potion spilled, and a soft green glorapped the leaning stalks of wheat Like a green fire, the spell whisked through the field And where it touched, rust fell away like dust, leaving the young kernels green and healthy and growing, fit food for th fro all the crops of the blight and rowth

For the first time in decades, Candlemas looked out over his work and felt pride The last successful spell he'd coht and Knucklebones back froreatest accomplishment after today's, still haunted him, for in that moment he'd lost the only woman he ever loved She'd chosen to remain with her beloved city, and had died with it Since then, Candlemas had been alone

”I wish,” he murmured aloud, ”I wish Aquesita could see my triumph That would make it perfect”

”Perfection isn't for mortals,” scratched a voice behind him ”It's for Gods, and the dead Such as aes whirled to confront-a monster

The creature loomed over thelistening body was naked, without ears or eyelids, like nothing they'd ever seen Yet, as Candle blue eyes, he found soet thee gone! I know youby all the Gods!”

”Yes!” From the slash of a ive me this hideous form!”

Despite himself, Candlele of wheat and fell on his fat rurain The far Candlemas's terror and surprise, the black monster casually raised claws to either side