The Past...

The door rang, but there was no magical presence of whoever had entered.

Hazé already expected what to see, but popped her head around the corner anyway. “Oh, it’s you. Be right with you, Brother!”

The Fire and the Sword smiled despite himself. She pulled off the tone and act of being a child so very well.

Kicking up her bunny-slippered feet, Hazé hustled out of the back room, leaving Mama to finish up with the cream, and into the adjoining ‘sales room’, basically a sitting room with access to the kitchen. “Come on in, Brother. Orange wine?”

However she managed to distill it, he found he loved the taste. “Please.” She shuffled in with her white socks and bunny slippers and fluffy skirt and apron that read “Mama’s Favorite Experiment” and sat down opposite the overstuffed sofa he had made himself comfortable on. She tossed him the bottle; he nabbed it effortlessly, broke the seal and cork with one twist of his hands, and took his first drink directly from it.

She set down a plate of pastries, and he eyed them as if they were a strange new beast come to threaten him.

Whoever had the nerve to offer a Void Brother sweets?

Which meant he had no choice but to taste them. As he picked up the first one, she said crisply, “No magic or alchemy involved.”

He bit down, and let sweet sugary fruitful goodness explode in his mouth, only accentuated by the tartness of the wine.

“Are you trying to bribe me?” he had to ask, helping himself to a second after a minute or two of thoughtful chewing and contemplation.

“It occurred to me that you probably either get too much terrified hospitality, or none at all, and some good home cooking would do you well. You’re welcome to stay for dinner. I’ve already put the chicken in.”

He gave her another strange look, and shook his head to himself. Obviously, he would have to work more on his intimidating presence, because it just wasn’t working here. “Just checking in. How have you been?” he asked calmly, but his eyes, as always, were knowing.

“Busy,” she admitted. “Your Brothers have endless things they want me to do, and they keep coming back.” Just like you do, she mused to herself.

He just nodded. “You have a deft touch, and a sense of discretion most Casters lack. They appreciate it.” Her not being utterly terrified of them helped too, although they didn’t say it. She knew what they did and wasn’t opposed to it, unlike most Casters.

They were also all speculating what she would be like when she was grown, and they all knew where that was leading, even if they said nothing.

“Common sense is quite uncommon among the brilliant,” she agreed calmly. “What brings you here in person?”

“I am on my way east. There’s been evidence of a planes-traveling Warlock around, but he’s very slippery, and his Patrons are the definition of it.”

Hazé wrinkled her nose. “Dare I ask what you did in the west?”

“Bone and I met up with some adherents of Skulos who thought of doing foul things with the great cemetery at Karsos. Why some fools cannot get it in their heads to burn their dead...” he sighed despite himself.

Hazé considered the hundreds of thousands of faithful buried in that cemetery, and didn’t say anything.

“Also, a report and explanation. Drimevort?” he asked calmly, but as usual, there were deadly implications behind his words.

She frowned cutely. “Wererats.” Her eyes narrowed again. “And if I find out you sent me sewer-chasing vermin lords for fun, you will pay.”

Despite himself, he coughed. “Mooncursed?” he asked, going for details.

“And rat-men, and trueborn, a nice unhealthy package infiltrating the thieves guild there, taking over the smuggling.” She waved her hand, and a bag full of books and paperwork was hauled out from behind her chair onto the seat next to her. Pages rustled, piled up, and she set them down in a neat pile on the low table between them. “Based on their paperwork, there are ties to Ruilvei. Given that most thieves guilds revere Shoul, I figured letting a couple advocates know that the witches were messing in their business would not be remiss. I think a shrine burned down in the forest near Yungvald a few weeks later, but I’m not sure.”

He hummed under his breath, mind working, drawing connections through senses she didn’t have and experience she was also lacking.

“Vungal’s Ditch?” His voice was soft, despite himself.

Her face fell, and she took a deep breath. “The whole village was werewolves. They were picking off travelers on the road nearby for food, and covering it up as brigand raids. They’d also infected half the bandits working the highway. I hunted down and killed them all.”

The Fire and the Sword was perfectly aware of what that statement meant, and as he had moved through the area after she had taken action, he was also aware of exactly what she had done. “Did you confirm the strain of the lycanthropy?” he asked calmly.

She knew he knew the answer, but just nodded. “Moonworm.”

Aberrant spiritual infection.

He took another pastry and ate it slowly. “Someone is doing something big,” he judged.

Hazé nodded. “The corruption is proceeding too quickly. Something is backing it on a level beyond the games of gods.” She sighed aloud. “A werewolf tried to get hired as a vineyard worker here a month ago.”

“Tried?”

“Well, he died his first day on the job. Wine vat rolled down on him, couple nails gave way at the wrong time. Crushed him flat as a pancake. Good vat, though. Didn’t break, saved the wine.”

He was amused despite himself. With well-timed paralysis to make sure the were didn’t move in time, no doubt. This eight-year-old girl was dangerously smart and subtle, and wasn’t in any way restricted to common uses of magic.

“Moonworm?” he asked knowingly.

“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “A black-on-white furred trueborn weretiger followed two weeks later, probably when he didn’t make contact. Bought some wine for himself, prowled around, and headed for Northgate with his carriage, playing at being a nobleman.”

Brother Firesword’s dark eyes seemed to spark. “Coridello himself showed up?” He stared at her as he took another drink of the wine. “Why would they mess with this vineyard? The vintage is good, but not that exceptional nor widely traded.”

“It is a minor holding of the Kremvell Family. As I understand it, Norelle Kremvell loved to spend her summers here. As a result, it directly supplies wine to the royal family for her.”

“Ah.” The second wife of the emperor. “So, they cannot tamper with the source, they will do something on the way. Mmmm. And the emperor too wrapped up in his petty pursuits and entertainments to care while his empire collapses around him.” He sneered and shook his head.

“I confess to having no connections at all in Zynozure, and what news I hear is rumor. Granted that I travel, but accurate news is rare, and I tend to believe my own eyes, rather than the tales that are nine-tenths lies and one-tenth brazen exaggeration,” Hazé stated. “Is the government truly so bad?”

“It is rotting from within at a tremendous clip. The smart powers are pulling out, aiming to find their own way in a sinking land, while blades stalk knives, poison and baseless accusations stab deep, and the ambitious claw for whatever they can, not seeing the rising darkness behind them. Merely backstabbing as usual in the Empire’s Crown.”

“Will it die? Or can it be reborn?” she asked calmly.

“Given what is coming... I believe it is being sacrificed to save the best. It will not survive in its current form.”

“How long?” she asked, frowning.

“Six years, if Brother Shadowknife is right... and I defer to his judgement on such things.”

The Shadowknife? That meant Those Things were involved in this. Things began to click, and Hazé swore quietly to herself, I will have to get Mama out of here...

“How close are you to satisfying the conditions restricting your growth?” he asked her calmly.

She took a moment to remind herself that Void Brothers were very, very smart. Not the smarts of a wizard or an engineer, but the smarts of born masterminds and killers, all the deadliness of killing machines, without the insanity that went with being a psychopath. They were the Batmen of the world, only faster, deadlier, and more ruthless than Mr. Wayne and his family issues.

“Within a few months, I should think.”

“What will be your first move?” he asked, eyes intent.

“I will supplicate the Silver Queen and ask for restoration of my status as a Favored and Cleric.” She paused a moment, then forged ahead. “I seek to regain my fifth Star, the Divine Star. Divine Theurgy is required to do so.”

“Star Magery.” His eyes twinkled for a moment. “If you can do so, I have a very special request for you.”

He took a folded letter out from inside his coat, held it out to her. With a flick of her fingers, it leapt from his hand to hers, and she opened it.

“These are?” she asked, looking at the names and locations.

“Young women with very strong magical talent, although they don’t know it, and perfect for induction into the Church of Sylune... after an appropriate recruitment process.”

She just looked at him for a moment, gesturing for him to go on.

“They are all Hagchildren.”