Crusader (44 page)

Qeteb and his companions had escaped the Murkle mines only through the most extreme of efforts. The dark and damp mines had contained enchantment—did the very cursed soil still reek with enchantment?—and the Demons had found it very difficult to negate its holding effects.

Eventually, after hours of temper, they had burst through the boarded-up entrances of several of the ancient shafts, sending showers of sharp-edged rock cascading through the air, and causing a massive avalanche down three sides of the mountain from which they’d emerged.

Qeteb was furious, but calm. He had finally understood that the forces ranged against him consisted not only of DragonStar and his five companions, but of the land itself.

The total and catastrophic destruction of Tencendor must wait until
every
creature, rock and speck of soil ranged against him and his had been destroyed.

And for this, Qeteb knew he needed a cool and calculating head, not a fount of fury erupting at every setback.

Thus, he held back his Demons for an hour or two of planning. They crouched on the desolate side of the mountain they’d escaped from, clinging to rocks like bunch-backed toads, letting the snow settle about their shoulders and lumpy spines. They crouched, and they whispered. They let their rage feed their whispers, but not control them. They spent some time in utter quiet, sending their senses scrying about the land; not only to verify the whereabouts of DragonStar and his five, but also to truly
sense
the land itself,
feel
its purpose,
know
its motives.

Qeteb, his senses soaring and penetrating deeper than those of his companions, felt something else.

A thing or a purpose as intimately connected to DragonStar as his five witches. No! Even more intimately connected! Who or what was this thing? And where? Where?

Qeteb knew where the five witches were—indeed, their positions was as preordained as their forthcoming battles with the Demons—but where, where the sixth mysterious and powerful presence?

Ah! A smile crawled through Qeteb’s mind as his senses showed him the icy northern tundra.

And the long, snaking convoy within which was the sixth…and perhaps the most vital.

“There is a heart yet beating within this land,” Qeteb eventually said.

He had thought he’d completely ravaged Tencendor when he’d been resurrected, but now he understood the untruth of that belief. He’d devastated its skin, but no more. Somewhere lay a great heart thumping, still pounding power through the land, frustrating the Demons at every turn.

“We must find that heart,” said Qeteb, “and destroy it.”

“Do you mean the four hearts of the four lakes?” said Mot.

“No.”

“Then the heart of the Maze—” Barzula began.

“No! Another heart. An unknown heart. A powerful heart. A
despicable
heart!”

“Where?” asked Sheol.

Qeteb sat silent a moment, his black armoured form hunched against the weight of snow on his wings and back. The metal of his visor rippled, as if the thoughts contained within were too virulent to be contained much longer.

“The long line of hopelessness,” Qeteb finally said, “that escaped from Sanctuary and currently wallows in icy misery to the north.

“In there lies the heart incarnate.”

Sometime after StarLaughter had resumed her trek east, six loathsome shadows swept over the landscape.

StarLaughter reflexively crouched close to some rocks, but the Demons, flying high overhead, did not notice her—or perhaps were too preoccupied to notice her.

“There’s trouble ahead,” StarLaughter said, and then silently mouthed a prayer for WolfStar’s safe-keeping.

DragonStar also saw the Demons soar overhead, so single-minded in their quest for destruction they did not even heed him.

He, too, crouched, then stared, and then leaped lightly down from his rocks atop the rubble of Star Finger to where his Star Stallion waited in a ravine below.

The Alaunt milled about the stallion’s legs, whining with their eagerness for the hunt.

As DragonStar walked up to the horse and hounds, his garb slipped away, and he strode once more in the linen loincloth with the lily sword swinging from the jewelled belt.

“There’s trouble ahead,” he said, and vaulted on the Star Stallion’s back.

Within the instant both horse and Alaunt were running north-east.

B
eyond the trees and the still ice forms of Urbeth and her daughters in their respective positions at either end of the avenue, the northern tundra was wrapped in an ice-gale so vicious that even the odd Skraeling, escaped from Ur’s trap preferred to huddle in their burrows than drift out to search for prey.

Axis spent most of the morning making sure that people and animals were settled comfortably—perhaps on the morrow they might begin their move south—and trying to avoid StarDrifter, who sat like a brooding storm on one of the carts near the head of the convoy.

Neither StarDrifter, nor Axis or Azhure, could quite come to terms with, let alone
believe
, the choice Zenith had made.

Axis blamed Fate, Azhure blamed herself and StarDrifter blamed WolfStar.

Axis had sent word to WingRidge to move WolfStar to the very rear of the convoy, far enough that he and StarDrifter might not meet accidentally.

Axis was also truthful enough with himself to understand that he did not want to see WolfStar either, nor Zenith with WolfStar.

Perhaps he could speak to her later…but for the meantime there was far too much to do.

Urbeth’s twin daughters dreamed the morning away in their pillars of ice, recovering strength after their efforts at leading the Demons into the souls of the Chitter Chatters. As had Urbeth at the front of the convoy, they’d placed themselves at its very rear, standing in the open space between the last trees on either side of the avenue, at the border between the rage of the snowstorm and the peaceful warmth of the avenue.

They seemed completely inviolate, twin pillars of unapproachable ice, but they were not quite alone.

Protected by the warmth of the trees, SpikeFeather TrueSong sat some paces away from them, cross-legged and winged, his head resting in one hand, red hair and feathers flaming incongruously before the ice, his eyes resting curiously on Urbeth’s daughters.

Truth to tell, SpikeFeather had been feeling more than slightly obsolete in the past few weeks. He’d been the one to correctly guess the location of Sanctuary, but it had been others who’d opened it, and then led Tencendor’s populations through its doors. DragonStar and his five witches had garnered all the attention and glory in their quest to destroy the Demons. SpikeFeather was not feeling jealous, merely horribly useless. He’d always hovered about the edges of the action, through the wars with Gorgrael, and now with these Demons, bursting with potential but never quite achieving it. Why had Orr taken charge of his life and why spend so many years talking to him and showing him the Underworld?

Why?

In Sanctuary, SpikeFeather had spent much of his time with Adamon and his wife, Xanon, and the other Star Gods. He’d wanted to see if, somehow, they might give him a direction, even a clue, but he’d learned nothing from them. Without exception (and apart from Axis and Azhure), the once-gods were colourless and apathetic, unable to come to terms with the destruction of Tencendor and with their exile—as mere mortals!—in Sanctuary.

They’d been kind, and patient, but SpikeFeather had
learned nothing of himself from them. And now, they’d disappeared, undoubtedly off on their own well-intentioned purpose, but that did not help SpikeFeather in his current despair.

“Gods!” SpikeFeather muttered, with no rancour, only desperate wishing. “What
is
my purpose? What am I to do?”

If only Orr hadn’t died so precipitously in the chamber of the Star Gate. Perhaps if he sought out DragonStar…

But SpikeFeather sighed, and let his eyes linger on the immobile ice pillars before him. Urbeth’s daughters apparently knew exactly who
they
were and what was expected of them.

Meanwhile, here he sat, not knowing what to do or how to help.

Suddenly, both pillars melted back into the forms of women, and they stared into the storm that raged beyond the avenue.

One of them hissed, and she swung around, stopping with a jerk as she saw SpikeFeather.

“You!” she cried.

Axis was startled out of his conversation with the Ravensbund chief, Sa’Domai, by a shout from the head of the convoy.

He leaped onto Sal’s back and galloped forward to find Urbeth transforming back into her womanly self, and DragonStar—DragonStar!—emerging from the storm on his white stallion, the Alaunt milling at Belaguez’s feet.

The expression on DragonStar’s face said it all.

“Trouble,” Axis stated.

“Oh, aye,” DragonStar said, and halted Belaguez by Sal. His eyes widened very slightly at the sight of Axis’ brown mare, but he made no remark about her.

Not when disaster threatened.

“The Demons are not far behind me,” DragonStar said. He looked in wonder at the avenue of trees, then looked in query at Urbeth.

Ur
, she told him in the mind voice, her thoughts carrying more images than spoken words.
Skraelings. Souls of trees. An army.

DragonStar nodded, accepting. “Urbeth, can you hold here for the moment? I must—”

“Yes. Go.”

DragonStar nodded, then reached across and let his hand rest momentarily on Axis’ arm. “I must see to Azhure’s and Katie’s safety,” he said.

“How can we fight against the Demons?” Axis said, grabbing at DragonStar’s own arm as his son pulled back.

Again DragonStar glanced at Urbeth. “Support Urbeth and her daughters, and support the trees,” he said. “Even I can do no more.”

Axis nodded, and let him go.

DragonStar rode Belaguez deep into the column until he found Azhure, Katie and StarDrifter. They were standing by a collection of Ravensbund tents, and looked up in stunned surprise as DragonStar rode up.

For the moment DragonStar ignored Azhure and StarDrifter, sliding off Belaguez’s back to lift Katie into his arms.

She smiled and snuggled in close to him.

The Demons are about to attack.

I know, DragonStar.

You must stay safe.

At that Katie smiled bitterly.
For the moment.

DragonStar’s arms tightened about her, and he could not help the sudden dampness in his eyes.
You have a way to travel before you, my girl. This is not the place.

DragonStar felt her nod, and he let her down.

“Azhure?” he said. “Katie must be protected at all costs. Whatever happens, whoever else dies in this attack, Katie
must be protected
.”

Azhure did not speak, merely wrapping her own arms about Katie and nodding, her eyes determined.

“The Ravensbund will prove as good a guard as any,” DragonStar said. “Stay inside their tents, away from what prying eyes might penetrate these trees.”

Again Azhure nodded, then she leaned forward, briefly kissed DragonStar’s cheek, and ducked inside one of the tents, Katie still locked in her arms.

Several Ravensbund warriors quietly surrounded the tent, and DragonStar spoke softly to them.

Then he turned to go, but was halted by StarDrifter.

“I know this is not the time,” StarDrifter said hurriedly, “but Zenith is in danger.”

DragonStar sent a rushed glance back towards the head of the convoy, but let StarDrifter hold him back.

“Danger?”

StarDrifter took a deep breath, and DragonStar was horrified to see the emotion in his grandfather’s eyes. “WolfStar has her,” he said.

DragonStar opened his mouth, but for the moment could not answer.

“WolfStar has captured Zenith’s soul,” StarDrifter hurried on. “Stolen her will! Dammit, DragonStar! WolfStar has convinced Zenith that she has no future apart from him!”

“But…how…” DragonStar said.

StarDrifter threw up his hands in despair. “DragonStar, if you have the time…help her, please…”

“I’ll—” DragonStar began, then got no further, for the sounds of a frightful battle crashed down through the trees.

That the helpless millions who’d escaped Sanctuary had somehow found a source of enchantment to protect them had not surprised Qeteb.

After all, the heart still beat.

As he and his approached the column from high overhead, they’d observed the tens of thousands of trees lining and protecting the people and animals inside.

“Enchantment,” Sheol had murmured, and Qeteb was pleased to hear no anger or amazement in her voice.

“I smell that old woman about this,” Qeteb had said, and the others had silently agreed with him.

Below, the trees waved their branches, lifting leaved tentacles high into the sky as if to grab the Demons down into their twigged depths.

None of the Demons needed to be told that that might be somewhat inadvisable.

“When DragonStar is dead,” Qeteb said, “the trees will become useless. I can wait.”

“And so…?” Raspu said. All of the Demons circled some hundred paces above the highest of the tentacles waving above the avenue, Qeteb very slightly above the others.

They had now assumed different forms: wingless, although they managed to remain aloft easily.

Muscled forms, and garbed in heavy checked-cloth jackets with thick leather belts and trousers.

All, save Sheol and Roxiah, sported thick heads of hair and beards, and even the two female Demons had their femininity almost completely hidden behind their outward facade of resolute determination and muscled strength.

The Demons had taken on the forms of woodsmen, and in their hands they gripped shiny metal axes.

They might not mean to battle the trees here and now, but they did mean to give them a scare. And there were three other targets in mind.

Whittle down DragonStar’s support one by one
, Qeteb whispered through their minds.
First…