Sebastian

you a meal, two glasses of ale, and a room." He moved another coin. "This will get you a bath and stabling for your horse."
    "Yes," Koltak said softly, humbly. "The horse is outside and… a bath would be welcome."
    "Most likely you'd like to have the meal in your room."
    Most likely you'd prefer me out of the way . "Thank you."
    "I'll show you the room." The man went to the open end of the bar. "Patrick! See to the gentleman's horse."
    A youth, who looked enough like the barman to be family, stepped forward and shot Koltak a cold look.
    "I'll see the poor creature gets a good feed and is tended properly."
    As Koltak followed the barman up the stairs to the rooms, he heard a man in the room below say, "That one thinks well of himself, doesn't he?"
    "That he does," another answered. "And there's no kindness in him. You can see it in his eyes."
    "That you can," the first one replied. "Has me thinking that no one would miss him if a waterhorse took him for a fast ride and a long sleep."
    Then the barman opened a door and entered the room to light a lamp. "I'll bring up your dinner as soon as it can be put together. Bath is down the other set of stairs, along with the indoor privies."
    Koltak set the saddlebags down at the foot of the bed and waited for the man to leave before sinking down on the bed.
    They didn't know about wizards. Did they know about the landscapes? If they didn't, how did they survive?
    They had no respect, no courtesy. They treated him like some common traveler.
    He hadn't felt this lost, this lonely, since he and Peter made the journey to Wizard City to become apprentice wizards. But he'd had his brother then, even though they hadn't liked each other much. Now he was far from home, and the status that made even the wealthiest gentry careful to show respect meant nothing to anyone.
    And that was another stone he would hang around Sebastians neck when the time came.
    *
    All the way back to the bordello, Sebastian told himself to expect any kind of reaction from Lynnea, to accept any disgust or revulsion she might feel toward him after seeing that thing. He'd prepared himself for any kind of response—except to have her throw her arms around him as soon as he walked into their room.
    "You're all right?" she asked, squeezing him hard enough to shift his ribs. "You're not hurt?"
    He didn't complain about his ribs or the feeling that he couldn't quite breathe. He just held on to the warmth of her, the love inside her—knowing he couldn't hold on to it much longer. That was something else he'd prepared for on the walk back to the bordello.
    "I'm all right," he said, finally shifting her back enough to give himself breathing room. "How's Teaser?"
    Lynnea looked back at the door that led into the bathroom. "He said he wanted to be alone. Wouldn't let me sit with him in his room, and he didn't want to stay in here. I think he's drinking."
    Giving her a light kiss on the forehead, Sebastian stepped aside. "I'd be worried about him if he weren't trying to get drunk."
    Lynnea narrowed her eyes. "Is that your way of telling me you're planning to get drunk too?"
    "I guess it is." He edged toward the bathroom door. "I'd better talk to him."
    Since it hadn't occurred to Teaser to lock anyone out from that direction, Sebastian simply walked through the bathroom and opened the other door. He found Teaser sitting on the floor, back braced against the side of the bed, cuddling a half-full bottle of whiskey.
     
    Settling on the floor next to his friend, he took the whiskey bottle, helped himself to a long swallow, then handed it back.
    "That's not me," Teaser said. "That's not me."
    Feeling like he'd aged a decade in the past few hours, Sebastian rested his head against the bed. "Yes, it is."
    Teaser looked at him with wounded eyes. "You think I'm like that? You think this is a mask I can take off? You think…" He raised one hand to his forehead, his nails digging in as if he could peel the skin off.
    Sebastian grabbed Teaser's hand and pulled it away from his face. "It's what we are, Teaser. That's what's inside us. You know it is. When our power unfurls, that's the feel of it. Diluted, but that's the feel of it."
    "I know," Teaser whispered. "I wanted… When it was on her, it made me so hungry, I wanted… And then I saw its face. My face."
    "It wore my face for a little while, too." And he would never forget the fear that had filled him when it had looked at Lynnea.
    They passed the whiskey bottle back and forth