A Scripta

"'ay Mate, how's it --URK!"

The big white-haired man grabbed Wombat by the front of his shirt and lifted him. Wards attacked the man from all around, and even as they stripped the clothes from his back, then the skin from his body, he still held onto the small man, holding him half a foot in the air.

"What have you done," Lodestar growled, suddenly all Kheldian, using the polyphonic voice that commanded the Aerian Starwings and the Sand King's squad. "What magic have you wrought?"

"If ya put me down, we c'n talk like civilized men an' I c'n look at yer face an' not yer skull."

Wards had torn the flesh from his face, making him blink back rivlets of blood. He would have stood there while the wards did their work, even as they dismantled his muscles, then his bones. He set the conjurer down, but the wards didn't cease. He grunted as one stabbed him in between the scapula and clavicle and twisted among the trapesius muscles and cartilage inside.

Wombat whispered something, and the wards left him. He refused to slump in relief, instead focusing his white eyes on Wombat. He willed himself to heal faster.

Wombat asked, "Where's Mase?"

"On a permanent vacation if I have anything to say about it. I want to know how you created Keen Frost's jewel."

"Fire 'n blood."

"Whose blood?"

"His."

"A lot?"

"No' even 'alfa pint."

Lodestar looked at the blood on the floor. "Less than that?"

"Much less." Though Womby tried not to look at it, he had hoped Lodestar wouldn't have noticed it. He could clean it up and use it for...something.

Lodestar summoned three small balls of light. They pooled around his feet, and Womby watched disappointingly as they gathered up the blood from the floor - and Lodestar's body, though he could do nothing about the shredded clothes.

"I need to know how you did it."

"Ya can't do anythin' t' stop it. Magic's as much th' other person's will, doncha know."

Lodestar clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration. "This is why I HATE magic. In all my years I can do nothing against it." He glared at Wombat.

"Ya been burned by magic, eh, Squidly?"

"Yes."

He tilted his head. "Wha'happened?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Ya shouldn't." He turned his back on Lodestar and headed over to the other side of the room, looking at jars. "I'm killin' yer friend, 'member?"

"No," Lodestar said, "No, you are not, but I thought maybe I could do something. I felt that fire, it's bottomless."

Wombat turned to him. "Ya felt it? How?"

"I touched him, I opened myself up to him to try and take some, and I pulled - and searched -"

"Ya pulled? Oh, that's great, mate. Now it'll be worse."

Lodestar looked down. "I know. It seems no matter what I have done with this life, with Nathan, I have made things worse. I do nothing, and Nathan shows his true colors. I try to help, and make things worse."

Wombat went over to him. He stood there for a moment then tentatively put his hand out. Slowly, he inched his hand forward, and touched a fingertip to Lodestar's wrist. Lodestar stood still, like he did with Star, but that contact was enough, as Womby retreated.

Womby hugged himself, drawing spirits closer around him for comfort. "Did burn you, din't it?"

"Yes." He still looked at Womby, his eyes a little softer. "My essence...was tied to...11 generations of a line of Mexicali, because they bound my blood to theirs."

"Oh?" he looked curious.

"Yes. And you look like all other mages when I say that."

"No, mate, I ain' thinkin' o' doin' such a thing - "

"It would have been 13, for the 13 days of the Aztec calendar."

"Wha' happened t' the other two?"

"I killed them."

Wombat didn't look away, but his eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

He crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Magic and I do not get along."

"I c'n see why, mate. Lis'n," and he came a little closer. "If I coul'do anythin' t' stop it, I would. I made it aft'all."

"His choice, I understand that." He nodded once.

Wombat only smiled. "He's lucky t' 'ave two people who care 'bout 'im so much."

Lodestar returned the smile. "Thank you, Wombat. I am sorry for roughing you up earlier."

"No worries, mate." He nodded to the door. The big man left, closing the door behind him. A couple of the wards appeared, bearing strips of flesh. Wombat smiled, reached his hand out for them -

And they burst into flame.