Crusader (36 page)

The sparrow, still wearing its vaguely man-Icarii form, smiled gently, accepting Axis’ obsequiousness as his due. If
only CrimsonStar had been as polite and deferential as this man!

“Belaguez was…
is
a special horse,” Axis said.

“And he was for a special man.
Men
. You and your son both.”

Axis looked back to Sal. She was nuzzling her velvety nose about his hip pockets, as if she might find a carrot there.

“But now your son’s got the starry boy, and you need another. Take Pretty Brown Sal.” And then the sparrow repeated himself, although Axis did not notice. “She’s my final gift of flight to the Icarii, as to all the peoples of Tencendor.”

Axis ran a hand down Sal’s neck and over her shoulder. She was only a small mare—barely high enough to carry him—but she had a deep chest, fine strong legs, and an intelligent eye.

And the sweetest disposition, Axis thought, of all creatures in existence.

He raised his head to speak to the sparrow, but before he could mouth the words, the sparrow-man rose, smiled, and then simply faded away into the shadows.

But just as Axis thought him gone, there was the soft piping of a sparrow, and the soft, drab form of the father of the Icarii race briefly brushed against Axis’ cheek before finally disappearing.

Axis lifted a hand, reaching hopelessly out, but the sparrow had gone.

T
hey had gone, and DragonStar hoped they would survive. If even one of them failed…He suddenly grew claustrophobic in the dank chamber, and walked for the door, whistling the Alaunt after him. Qeteb and his fellow Demons were undoubtedly occupied elsewhere and, if the StarGrace had spoken true, he need not fear the Hawkchilds. He would surely be safe enough in the fresh air—such as it was in the corrupted realm—for the time being.

Gods! He needed to feel the wind on his face!

But although DragonStar climbed unhindered to the surface to sit, as his father had once sat, on a pile of rocks overlooking the Hundred Mile Beach of the Icebear Coast and the battering ocean beyond, he did not long enjoy the peace of the pre-dawn air.

StarLaughter joined him.

“Sanctuary,” she said, and leaned teasingly close to him as she sat down.

He did not give her the satisfaction of moving away.

StarLaughter forgot her teasing almost as soon as she’d begun it. Sanctuary was so dangerous! What if…? Momentary panic engulfed her. “WolfStar won’t be safe in Sanctuary! Qeteb will surely break through!”

DragonStar repressed a sigh.

“We are destined for each other,” StarLaughter said, once
more calm and with a faraway expression on her face. “When he sees me again…oh!”

“He may not be as pleased to see you as you will be to see him,” DragonStar said carefully. While, on the one hand, StarLaughter’s insane idea that she and WolfStar could forgive all their differences, WolfStar falling deeply in love with her the instant he laid eyes on her again, made DragonStar want to laugh incredulously—StarLaughter must indeed have lost her mind!—on the other hand, DragonStar did not want to antagonise StarLaughter to the point where she might turn against him.

His task had been made infinitesimally easier by the fact that he and his could ignore the Hawkchilds.

StarLaughter shrugged aside DragonStar’s comment. “We’ve had our differences—”

DragonStar choked back a laugh.

“—but we will surely overcome them.”

“It might take some, ah, time.”

She shrugged again, but did not respond to DragonStar’s comment. Instead, she said: “How will he manage to escape the Demons when they break through into Sanctuary?”

Now DragonStar had to fight back anger. She had no thought for the millions of peoples and creatures trapped in Sanctuary, only for WolfStar. Her love was as single-minded as her revenge had been.

“Axis—”

“Your father?”

“Yes, my father. Axis has charge of Sanctuary. I hope he will manage to find a way to save them. Some back door that they can escape from.”

“But we must help!” StarLaughter cried, sitting up straight and turning a frantic face to stare at DragonStar. “I must do something! WolfStar must get out! We must—”

“Stars damn it, StarLaughter! You’ve spent thousands of years plotting his death. Now that it might be imminent, I
find it hard to believe that you’re in a panic that his death might actually be accomplished!”

StarLaughter drew completely away from him, her face frozen.

DragonStar reached out a hand. “StarLaughter, forgive me. I have a great deal on my mind.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she took his hand. “I had hoped you would support me,” she said, and turned her face aside.

“StarLaughter, I honestly will do nothing to stand in your way. Indeed, I wish you the best. You and WolfStar make the perfect couple. I just find it so hard to believe that hate can turn so quickly,” and so completely, he thought, “to love.”

StarLaughter relaxed and smiled prettily. “Oh, DragonStar, you just do not understand love. It takes many twists and turns until it reaches its home.”

And to that DragonStar had nothing to say, although he smiled wryly.

After a while, and after some more desultory conversation, StarLaughter moved off, no doubt to plan her single-handed rescue of WolfStar from Sanctuary, and DragonStar also stood up.

The view of dawn breaking far to the east had been entirely spoilt for him.

The Strike Force were waiting in the lower corridors of Star Finger, and DragonStar spent almost two hours talking quietly but intently with them. Eventually, in groups of three Wing each, the members of the Strike Force rose like silver into the air above the wasteland and sped off in four different directions.

By mid-morning Faraday sheltered in a huddle of rubble that had, she thought, once been a customs post on the road into Carlon. It had been a substantial stone building of some three or four rooms, and its destruction at the hands of some demonic band of creatures had left a goodly pile of stone for her to hide within. Indeed, part of the rubble formed its own
gloomy cave, and all Faraday was surprised about was that it hadn’t already been occupied by some family of maniacal hogs, or rats, or perhaps even cannibalistic hens.

Instead, it was surprisingly clean and even partly warm, as it was a haven from the wind, although the floor was rough, and no matter how Faraday shifted, she could not find a comfortable spot.

Finally, Faraday rose. It was time to look out on the Maze.

It was…frightening. She remembered when she’d walked past this area with Zenith in the shadow-lands, but even the horror of that vision could not compete with the actuality.

The Maze enveloped what had once been Grail Lake, as well as the blackened ruins of Carlon.

But it was now sending tentacles of twisted corridors and dead-end walks out into the surrounding landscape. Mother! Were the Demons planning on turning the entire wasteland into a Maze? Or was this some demented plan of the long-dead Enemy?

Faraday’s pile of rubble was on a small hillock that commanded a crossroads linking Romsdale, Avonsdale and Carlon. The perfect site for a customs post, but also a perfect site for observing what went on within the Maze.

It writhed with activity. There were…gods! there must be billions of creatures seething through its twisted veins! The Maze’s walls sheltered a mass of life so dense that Faraday could hardly pick out individual creatures. She was up high and perhaps half a league from the Maze, but even so the mass within the Maze seemed unusually coherent.

Almost…coagulated.

“Oh, gods!” Faraday whispered as she realised what the Demons had made of the Maze. It was now the gigantic heart of the wasteland and within it seethed a black blood composed of the billions of creatures that swayed to the call of the Demons.

At any moment it would pump those creatures out into the wasteland.

Even as she watched, the Maze appeared to give a perceptible heave, and from four gates flowed four streams of dark, writhing evil.

One of the streams headed directly for her.

Of all the five witches, DareWing and Goldman had the most salubrious surroundings. They found Cauldron Lake almost untouched by the destruction and malevolence that had wasted most of Tencendor. The gold and crystal forest stood virtually unscathed, although some of the outer rings of trees had fallen over and shattered as the forests surrounding it had burned to ash, but, most importantly, Cauldron Keep still stood.

As comforting and as welcoming as it always had been for those it loved.

As DareWing and Goldman walked in, the lizard only a half-step behind, they found a fire burning in a central hearth, two beds made up with feather pillows and deep quilts, rugs spread between deep armchairs and chaise longues, and a general air of welcome for all three.

The Keep had laid a magnificent table: smoked hams, fresh vegetables and herbs, eight different cheeses, five loaves of breads, cakes, buns, biscuits, honey, fruit and steaming tea, and a bowl of food for the lizard set close to the fire.

Goldman rubbed his hands, and sat down at the table.

DareWing just stood and stared.

Gwendylyr, ever practical, merely sighed as she surveyed the destruction of the Lake of Life and Sigholt. The destruction of Sigholt had been so well managed that, unlike Faraday, there was not even a pile of rubble suitable for a sheltering spot.

Gwendylyr looked about. The Lake seethed and bubbled with pestilence—it literally stank of the Demons—and could offer no succour.

Sigholt’s sad remains were of no use.

She turned and studied the Urqhart Hills. Ah…there! A stream-bed led down through a narrow gully to what had once
been a moat. Gwendylyr frowned, trying to remember the old stories of the days when Axis had battled Gorgrael. Hadn’t Belial once managed to unblock an old spring in a cave nearby? The lines of Gwendylyr’s forehead deepened as she dredged back through all her memories…that gully extended into the hills about half a league, and then should end in the cave.

Smiling with satisfaction, Gwendylyr picked up her skirts and moved up the gully, stepping daintily over fallen rocks and crevices as she went. Whatever state she found the cave in, Gwendylyr knew she could make it do.

Physically and mentally exhausted, Leagh sank against the stump of a tree just below the ridge of the crater surrounding Fernbrake Lake…or what had once been a lake.

Now it was a desiccated garden, a maddened, swirling combination of rose thorns and wind topping the small hillock in its centre.

Leagh lifted a hand to wipe a tear from her face, and found it was shaking.

Quickly she clenched it and let it sink to the earth. She closed her eyes, then opened them again almost instantly, still seeing Qeteb striding towards her.

Better the view of this desecration than the memory of Qeteb.

But instead of Qeteb, Leagh saw something step out of the bloodied rose wind atop the hillock.

It was one of the Demons. Sheol, for it had a female form.

And another…Leagh frowned. Another female? Oh gods! It was Niah, but a Niah indisputably a Demon. DragonStar had been right then. Qeteb had indeed infused the Niah-woman with Rox’s soul.

Two more Demons stepped out of the twisting thorns, and then one more.

Qeteb.

Leagh shrank as close as she could to the earth, wriggling slightly further behind the tree stump.

Qeteb turned his visored face in her direction, and Leagh felt, if not saw, his malicious grin.

Tremble not, sweet thing
, a voice whispered in her head,
for I have other and better prey to occupy me for the moment. But fear not either, for I have not forgotten you. Others will be along to attend you shortly.

His laughter rang out, threatening to overwhelm Leagh, and she twisted away, jamming fingers in her ears and screwing her eyes shut.

When Leagh finally found the courage to open her eyes again, she saw Sheol, the last of the Demons now above ground, step into the hole that led to the stairwell to Sanctuary.

“I pray to every god in every existence,” Leagh whispered, “that you have found a way out of there, Axis.”

T
hrough the night and into the morning Axis rode Sal through the frantic preparations, sometimes stopping to murmur encouragement, other times to help lift provisions into a cart. And always he kept turning his eyes to the sky.

In the end, it was the woman he was helping to settle her children into an already crowded cart that suddenly exclaimed and pointed upwards.

Axis jerked his eyes skyward.

Emerald cracks were zigzagging and wriggling their way from a point just off-centre across the entire sky.

As the emerald cracks widened, a sickly silver gleamed through.

“Gods!” Axis cried, and without further ado, grabbed Sal’s halter, sprang onto her back, and pushed her forward at a gallop through the shouting, pointing, terrified groups about him.

Six shapes crouched across the chasm that the silvery bridge had once spanned.

They were no longer recognisable as humanoid, or animal, or even as Demons. They were just great, dark, slimy masses of shifting black and pink and orange that oozed pure evil.

There was an outer ring of five crouched about one in their centre. The central mass was Roxiah, drawing on all
the power of the Enemy within Niah’s body, and using Rox’s soul to magnify it and then distribute it to the other five Demons.

And from there, all six hurled it at the enchantments that protected Sanctuary.

It felt good, the destruction of this beauty, and that good itself increased the power of the Demons to the point where they had power to spare, and sent crazy spurts of it out into the universe to dance about the stars and disrupt the harmony of the Star Dance.

It knew, that beautiful, melodious power that sang through the stars, that the final confrontation was nigh.

“Urbeth!” Axis screamed as he dashed through his palace and up to the balcony where Urbeth spent much of her time. “Urbeth!”