‘Since last night, and this is the first report you have seen -fit to make?’ The
sorcerer’s pale lips flushed. His eyes burned within his shadowed cowl.
‘I hope you and Kadakithis had a talk.’
‘We did, we did. You are not still angry at the world after all these years?’
‘I am yet living. I have your kind to blame or thank, whichever.’
‘Do you not think it strange that we have been thrown together as – equals?’
‘I think that is not the right word for it. Aspect. What are you about, here?’
‘Now, now. Hell Hound-‘ .”
‘Tempus.’
‘Yes, Tempus. You have not lost your fabled sense of irony. I hope it is a
comfort.’
‘Quite, actually. Do not interfere with the gods, guildbrother of my nemesis.’
‘Our prince is justifiably worried. Those weapons-‘
‘-equal out the balance between the oppressors and the oppressed. Most of
Sanctuary cannot afford your services, or the prices of even the lowliest
members of the Enchanters’ Guild. Let it be. We will get the weapons back, as
their wielders meet their fates.’
‘I have to report to Kitt – to K-adakithis.’
‘Then report that I am handling it.’ Behind the magician, he could see the ranks
whispering. Thirty men, the archmage had brought. Too many.
‘You and I have more in common than in dispute, Tempus. Let us join forces.’
‘I would sooner bed an Ilsig matron.’
‘Well, I am going in there.’ The archmage shook his head and the cowl fell back.
He was pretty, ageless, a blond. ‘With or without you.’
‘Be my guest,’ Tempus offered.
The archmage looked at him strangely. ‘We do the same services in the world, you