Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

tomorrow anyway. Esper chatter filled the great room, almost loud enough to be heard by nonespers. A couple of show-offs were dancing on the ceiling. None of the nonespers felt slighted or threatened. For the moment at least, victory had brought everyone together.
    Young Jack Random was the man of the hour. Everyone wanted to be next to him, to slap him on the back, pour him another drink. He was only too happy to describe his part in the defense of the city, and the people around him wouldn't let him be modest about it. Everyone had some tale to tell of the legendary professional rebel's courage and daring exploits.
    Owen Deathstalker and Hazel d'Ark sat in a corner of the hall, drinking a reasonably good vintage wine and dubiously studying a collection of party snacks. Their greater abilities had disappeared along with the Mater Mundi, and they were both feeling very human again. Their wounds had healed, and the
    bone-deep weariness had gone, but they both felt they needed some time to come to terms with the more than human things they'd done. Their exploits fighting in the streets hadn't gone unnoticed, and some people made a point of seeking them out to reminisce and congratulate them, but on the whole most people preferred to idolize the larger-than-life Jack Random.
    At Random's side stood Donald Royal, his ancient frame full of new life and good wine, revitalized by battle and feeling like a new man again. He'd been a great hero in his younger days, and had never been really happy leading a peaceful life. Now he felt like himself again, full of piss and vinegar, and if he was almost certain to pay dearly for that feeling tomorrow, well, he'd think about that tomorrow. People roared his name along with Jack Random's and toasted him like the warrior of old. Random put an arm across his shoulders and wouldn't be separated from him. Madelaine Skye stuck close, too, and tried to tell herself it wasn't just jealousy that made her distrust the legendary professional rebel.
    Over by the bar, Cat and Cyder were making serious inroads into the champagne.
    They always believed in indulging in the best, especially when someone else was footing the bill. As the level in the third bottle dropped, Cyder became increasingly philosophical about the loss of her tavern.
    "We'll build another Blackthorn," she said to Cat, with only the faintest slur in her speech. "We can live off the insurance money for a while, and I'll set up some easy burglaries for you. Bound to be lots of good stuff lying around relatively unguarded, after all this. The old team rides again. What the hell; maybe you and I were never meant to be respectable."
    John Silver came over to pay his respects to Owen and Hazel. He was wrapped in so many bandages he could only bend in certain directions, but he seemed cheerful enough. Owen decided to be diplomatic, and excused himself for a
    moment, so Silver and Hazel could talk in private. After Owen had moved away, they stood in silence for a while, meeting each other's gaze steadily.
    "I don't suppose there's any way I could persuade you to stay in Mistport?" said Silver.
    "No. I go where the rebellion takes me, and it's all over here."
    "You need a little Blood, to take with you? I could always…"
    "No thanks. I don't need it anymore."
    "I thought not. You don't need me, either."
    "It was good seeing you again, John, but you're my past. I've moved on since then, and where I've gone you can't follow. What will you do now?"
    "Help rebuild the starport. If we can."
    "The Golgotha underground will supply you with whatever high-tech you need." She sipped her wine to indicate she was about to change the subject. "You don't know what happened to Chance and his kids, do you?"
    "Oh, they'll come through all right," said Silver easily. "His kind always do.
    The esper union is looking after the children, here in the Hall somewhere. I think the powers that be are feeling a bit guilty about abandoning them to someone like Chance, just because they didn't want to be bothered with children who reminded them of the dark side of esp." He looked round. "Owen's coming back. I'd better make myself scarce. Look after yourself. Hazel."
    "You too, John. From what I hear, you were quite the hero, out fighting in the streets."
    Silver grinned. "Yeah. I don't know what came over me."
    He gave her a bow and a wink, and moved off into the party.
    Not that far away, Investigator Topaz and Typhoid Mary were talking quietly.

    Neither of