Maxima’s account of the destruction of the city had featured great billows of fire, even if most of the killing had been much more direct, but those fires hadn’t touched the remains of the palace. The only structural damage done here was having the front portion scooped away, and afterward, the ravages of time.

Every living soul had been ripped apart and painted across the walls, even inside rooms whose doors remained shut. Those corpses who had landed beyond the reach of the sun and weather were often still there, slumped over. Some were nothing but collapsing bones, but others were mummified, their dry organs strung out across entire rooms. The stains on the walls were often still visible, no faster to decay than anything else.

Aside from the corpses, a surprising amount of finery remained, although worms and moths had put much of it beyond hope of re-use. The graceful cabinets were fragile and old now, turning to sawdust and bearing tunnels where the bugs ate away the wood. They often contained only dust and strips of cloth instead of fine garments. The carpets were missing large swaths of their yarn and came apart underfoot. Tapestries sagged and fell, their stories lost forever.

But enough of it remained to fill the children’s heads with wonder at what it must have been like. Biandina and Antelmu hadn’t seen the Duke or his home, and their traditional lifestyle had no room to accommodate anything like what they found. The sheer amount of wood itself was enough to cast them into awe. They squealed in wonder and shouted for the others to come look at nearly every room they entered, and before long, the two of them went almost hand in hand.

Dirt shared his sight with Socks, who lay outside and sniffed the breeze while they shared the experience of exploring. Dirt’s body and fingers were best for this task anyway, and Maxima was still interested in how they did it. For her part, she sat there and stared at Socks’s mind trying to figure it out.

The most interesting parts were the artwork, which was everywhere. Decorative molding along the walls, fine woodwork supporting every banister, floral patterns and human figures on every pillar. Paintings whose colors brightened into view when Dirt blew the dust off, old drawings on brittle paper, the remains of tapestries showing people wearing clothing Dirt had never seen. Dirt found a large book with a leather binding and opened it, but it split in half when he did so he closed it again and left it there.

One table had carved stone figurines in different shapes standing on a multi-colored board of lacquered wood, which Dirt suspected was a game, but he couldn’t begin to guess the rules.

Antelmu and Biandina found all sorts of useless things they wanted to keep. Carved wooden figurines, gold jewelry, lengths of cloth so soft and faint that Dirt wondered if it was the silk that Hèctor had been talking about. They stuffed their packs to bursting, even tossing out other things they thought less valuable.

The children set their packs down by Socks, who raised his head and asked, -Are you ready to go already? You don’t want to keep looking?-

It turned out they did want to keep looking, given the option, and went back in to explore much more slowly. They spent the entire day in there, exploring even through Dirt and Socks taking a nap. Every room, even the dark cellars they had to summon Dirt to see inside. Those had been full of wine on wooden racks, a few of which had collapsed sending thick, dark glass splaying everywhere. Antelmu wanted to try some, but Dirt said he knew what it was and that it was disgusting, so he didn’t.

The stairs gave out near the top of a tower and Biandina crashed through and might have fallen a great distance, but Maxima caught her and set her down safely, even though a dozen rock walls between them blocked the great wolf’s vision. That was something Socks couldn’t do, unless he’d learned in the last few days.

The thing Dirt took primary notice of was where the best beds were, the cleanest and most livable ones, of which there were still a few. They weren’t as soft as the ones in the tower in Llovella, which had been centuries newer, but for all their age, they weren’t too bad.

After the sun went down, Maxima said, -We will spend some time together. Gather some wood to make a fire.-

Dirt was far less dainty about it than the other children were, but they found enough ruined furniture to smash into pieces that each of them brought exactly as much as they could carry and set it down on the stone of the bottom floor, where the wolves were waiting.

-I want to see you ignite it,- commanded Maxima, and Antelmu obliged.

He started by tapping the sawdust off and rubbing the decayed parts to get tiny bits of wood, then gathering it into a pile. Once he was satisfied with those, he awkwardly used the sharp edge of the Sceptrum Flammae’s broad, gleaming spearhead to shave some wood into thinner pieces. Once he had enough of those, he set a few larger logs at the ready.

Antelmu took a small iron knife and a rock from his pack and scraped them together to create a shower of sparks. They landed right on the pile of dust, which immediately began smoking. The boy leaned down and blew on the infant flames to grow them, and began adding larger and larger bits of wood until he had a proper flame. After that, he stacked the larger pieces into a sturdy square fence around the fire and sat back with a grin of pride. “One stroke,” he said. “One stroke fire.”

“It feels dirty burning so much,” said Biandina. “It’s gonna be one of the largest fires I think I’ve seen.”

And soon it was, at least for them. Dirt wasn’t that impressed, and neither were the wolves. But it was bright and warm and welcoming, and Socks and Maxima snuggled together with their snouts pointed inward to keep warm. The dancing flames took on fantastical shapes in the reflections of their yellow eyes.

-Tell me a human story. Each of you. I have never heard one and Socks speaks highly of them,- commanded Maxima. -I cannot imagine what creatures like you would have to talk about.-

“Oh, I can do that!” said Antelmu, before thinking about it. He glanced over at Maxima and visibly lost his nerve. But Biandina reached across and patted him on the shoulder, even though he was sitting on the armless side, and pinched him for good measure. He smiled nervously and swatted her hand away.

“Okay, once there was, um,” said Antelmu. He paused.

“You haven’t thought of one yet, have you?” said Biandina.

“No! I have,” he said.

“How about Orsu and the Man-eater?”

“That…” said Antelmu. “I guess that’s better than the one I thought of.”

“What one were you thinking of? Teramu and the Nine Virgins?”

“No, it was… Vitu,” he said, whispering the name.

“Oh,” said Biandina, also dropping her voice. She glanced at Maxima nervously and said, “Yeah, do Orsu.”

That made Dirt incredibly curious what Vitu’s story was about, or Teramu’s for that matter, but those would have to wait. Antelmu started right away.

“A long time ago, when everyone lived in his own building and had his own fields and everyone died in the same place they were born, was a man named Orsu. Or, I mean, he was born. When he was born, the midwives put him on his mother’s breast to nurse, after they cleaned him up, I guess. He was healthy but they, well, never mind. But when they put him on his mother’s breast to nurse, he drank all her milk and started crying for more, but he had to wait so she put him down. Put him on the ground, I mean,” said Antelmu. He swallowed hard, growing more nervous.

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-Do not displease me with a poor telling, child,- said Maxima, filling the cold air with an edge of menace.

-Don’t tease him. He can’t tell. She’s teasing you, Antelmu,- said Socks.

Dirt smiled slightly, not quite sure how to react to that, but he sent a quiet little puff of courage to Antelmu, subtle enough he would think it came from himself.

Maxima said, -If you tell him I am teasing, that ruins the fun. You are safe here, child. Continue.-

“He’s easy to tease. He just has that face, you know?” said Biandina.

“Shut up, Biandina,” said Antelmu, letting a little smile slip out. “All I have to do to tease you is clap.”

“I can clap, I just need your help. Hold up your hand. Do it. Hold it up,” she replied, acting sincere. Antelmu rolled his eyes and held his hand up, turning toward her to make it easier.

She smacked him on the side of his head and said, “Clap.”

Maxima flicked her ears toward the children and gave a subtle sniff. She wasn’t about to admit it, but she was clearly amused.

“I should not have fallen for that,” said Antelmu. “Okay. So, anyway, Orsu’s mother put him down and fell asleep, because she was tired from childbirth and feeding him. But when she woke up, the midwives had left and her husband was sleeping beside her, and the baby was gone.

“She got up and stumbled out of her tent, er…” Antelmu’s eyes got wide and he looked back at the ruined palace once more.

“What?” asked Biandina.

“I just realized that when the old stories say everyone lived in their own building, it wasn’t like a tent. I always thought it was maybe a bigger tent that never moved, but that was wrong, huh? A building, not a tent. And people had all that stuff! I never imagined everything was so different.

“Okay. Anyway. So, the mother got up and went to find her baby, and she stumbled out of her, uh, her building, and she couldn’t find him anywhere. She asked a woman washing her clothes, and the woman said, ‘I saw a strong baby crawl by here not too long ago. He went that way,’ and the mother went that way.

“Then she found a man chopping wood, in a big pile since there was plenty, and I bet that was true, wasn’t it? Sorry. The mother asked him, and the man said, ‘I saw a toddler run by here a moment ago. He was eating a meat pie.’”

Antelmu grew more animated and comfortable as he talked. He gestured with his hands and made his voice broad and colorful. “Well, at this point, the mother was too sore and tired from just giving birth, and she was hardly dressed or anything, so she went back and woke up her husband. She told him what happened, and he grabbed a loaf of bread and chased after his son.

“Everywhere he went, people had seen a little boy run past. And now that I think about it, he was probably naked as Dirt, wasn’t he? First they saw a four-year-old, then a seven-year-old who lost half his teeth, then a ten-year-old with good muscle and long hair. And every time, the father was right behind him.

“Finally, he saw a strong man kneeling by a river to get a drink. The man stood up and had a fish caught with his teeth. He took a bite, swallowed, and said, ‘Can I help you?’”

Antelmu went from sitting to kneeling so he could gesture better. Dirt wondered if he knew he’d done it.

“The father knew who it was right away. ‘My son,’ he said, ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been? Come home and rest with your mother.’

“’I am short on time, Father, but I will not disobey. Only do not keep me too long. Can I eat that bread?’ And the father handed the bread over and they talked while they walked back. It was a long way back, and the whole time, the son kept grabbing things to eat. He stole meat and fruit and anything else he could get his hands on, but the father said nothing.

“He kept getting bigger and stronger and hairier, and when they made it home, the mother greeted them at the door and said, ‘Who is this bear of a man, and where is my son?’ So they named him Orsu. He stayed with them that night, slept on the floor in a room they prepared for him. He had to sleep on the floor, though, because they only had a little cradle. But he had blankets.

“The next morning when they woke up, Orsu was sleeping next to a beautiful woman, and they recognized her as someone from nearby who was looking for a husband. ‘I took her as my wife, and she carries my child,’ said Orsu. He kissed his wife and got up, and she smiled and went back to sleep.

“He was muscular and strong, but his hair was starting to get a little gray, and his parents knew his time was short. ‘I will live a full life before I go, and there is one thing left to do. But first, what is there for breakfast?’” said Antelmu, eyes sparkling as he pictured the scene in his mind.

The boy knew he had everyone’s attention so he paused dramatically, then pulled a strip of jerky from his pack and took a bite. Biandina gave him a reproving scowl, and through a mouthful of food he said, “What? I’m demonstrating this part of the story.”

“That joke is only funny once,” she said.

“Yeah, but they haven’t seen it.”

“Actually, it’s funny zero times.”

Dirt wasn’t quite sure what the joke was, and neither was Socks, but Antelmu’s humor was infectious regardless. Even Biandina’s exasperation was performative, not sincere.

“Okay. I’m ready,” said Antelmu. He made as if to start talking again, then quickly took another bite. Biandina smacked him and Dirt snorted. She was wrong—it was funnier the second time.

Finally he finished and cleared his throat dramatically. “After Orsu had eaten everything in the house except for two eggs that he left for his wife, he took his father’s spear and went outside. The moment he stepped out, everyone heard screaming from the edge of town.

“A man-eater had come. Do you know what that is, Dirt?” said Antelmu.

“I can guess from the name, I think,” said Dirt.

“No you can’t,” said Antelmu. “It’s a creature the size of a horse, with a human face and three rows of teeth. It has paws like a lion and fur as red as cinabru.”

Dirt said, “What’s cinabru? Oh, wait, is that the same as cinnabaris? I bet it is.”

“What’s… cinnabru-is?” asked Antelmu.

“I only know the word. What’s cinabru?” said Dirt.

Biandina said, “It’s a red mineral that we use for dye.”

“Is it poisonous?”

“Yeah, do you know what it is now?”

“Not really. Go on with the story,” said Dirt.

“Okay. All its parts would be dangerous enough already, but the man-eater also had a tail like a scorpion, and spines at the top that were deadly poison. It could flick its tail and throw the spines faster than an arrow. They called it a man-eater because its favorite prey was humans, and no one had ever killed one.

“Orsu charged and fought with more strength than anyone had ever seen before. He threw the beast aside and resisted its claws and held its jaw open to keep from being bitten. He batted away its tail with his spear and dodged all its spines. They fought for the rest of the day, but hour by hour, Orsu got older and older.

“Finally, as night was about to fall, the man-eater finally got him. It threw its last spine and his old eyes didn’t see it in time. The spine hit him in the neck and he knew he was going to die. So with the last of his strength, he leaped on the man-eater and bit it as deep as he could and spat its own poison back into the wound. They died together.

“They buried him upright, riding on the man-eater like a horse, holding the spear up in victory, and put a cairn on top so no one would forget where it was. I’ve been there to see it once.

“That was the last time anyone saw a man-eater, and some say there was only ever one, just like there was only ever one Orsu. But his wife gave birth to twin sons, and each of them had ten children, and each of them had ten children, until every living person in the plains from the mountains to the forest had some of his blood in them. The end.”

Antelmu sat back, watching carefully for the reaction. Dirt said, “I’ve never heard one like that before. Is it true? Did that really happen?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” said Antelmu. “I think so. I’ve been to his grave.”

-I am familiar with such creatures. There is a similar one in my territory,- said Maxima. -They did indeed wander the plains and forests many years ago.-

The mood went from warm and friendly to nervous in the space of only a few breaths as Socks and the rest reimagined the monster as something real and present, not just words in a tale.

-Is it a half-dead thing?- asked Socks.

-It is an abomination like you are thinking, little Socks, but such things have their uses on rare occasions. It is no threat to anything I value.-

-I do not like them,- said Socks, his mental voice darkening.

-Then I permit you to kill it. We will go in the morning, and the humans will try first. If they falter, you may assist,- said Maxima.

Antelmu and Biandina froze, and even Dirt felt a hard little ball of fear knot together inside his chest.

Maxima raised her head and peered down at the siblings to say, -What better way to welcome your new claws than washing them in the blood of something hateful? Or are they mere ornaments?-

“They’re not ornaments,” whispered Antelmu, trying and failing to speak aloud. He gripped his spear, but his fingers had no strength in them.

-Dirt and I can fight but I don’t want to lose the other two humans,- said Socks.

-Tomorrow you will be leaving my territory either way. They may choose how they are remembered. If they wish to demonstrate that humans have some worth after all, they will fight. It is one simple creature,- said Maxima.

Biandina looked over to catch her brother’s gaze. Her eyes were resolute, full of courage, and it nearly startled him. She nodded, and he nodded back. They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer. They turned, having communicated what they needed to, and said, “We’ll fight.”