Phoenix

  We did it, he was thinking. We found my father, and we found the King. Now he’s going to stop the War, and save the stars. He’s going to tell me why I’ve got this power –

  – and Gala was wrong! I used it again, and I didn’t die. I didn’t burn my life away. I’m going to live!

  He basked in a warm glow as his father welcomed the others into his cabin.

  ‘Captain Nox,’ he said. ‘It has been too long. And can that be Mystica?’ He peered at the old lady as Frollix laid her down on the bearskin rugs.

  Mystica was weak, pale, and clearly in pain, but she still looked grand, in spite of it all. Her golden eyes were clear and bright again – almost too bright, like pulses of supernova light.

  ‘Yes, it’s me, Theobroma,’ she said, warming her hands by the fire. ‘I’m not at my beautiful best, after a spell in your jail. But you can’t get rid of me that easily!’

  The King smiled at that. His face was full of compassion, his voice warm and sweet. ‘I must apologize for the way you were treated,’ he said. ‘Please understand: this is a time of war. Many Axxa have suffered and died because of the Humans. My officers did not know who you were. They made a mistake.’

  ‘And the other people in the caves?’ asked Frollix. ‘They all mistakes too?’

  ‘It’s unfortunate if innocents have to suffer,’ said the King. ‘It’s not a perfect system. We know that. But we do our best.’

  Frollix didn’t argue. He just hung back, and watched the King silently with his starry blue eyes.

  The door opened. Lucky was brought new clothes and a pair of cloven-hoof boots. Then trays of food were brought in, held aloft on silver platters. There were racks of meat, and roasted birds. A huge dish of eyeballs, and Xoco for everyone.

  ‘Eat, my friends,’ said the King, biting with relish into a leg of lamb. ‘I have an appetite tonight. Let us celebrate: my son has come back to me!’

  Lucky took some eyeballs, but he couldn’t eat. His head was spinning with all that had happened.

  Bixa didn’t even bother with the food. ‘But if you know your son’s an Astraeus,’ she said, ‘and you know he’s half Human – then you must know the stars don’t want this war. Why else would an Astraeus come down like that? He’s proof that the stars want peace.’

  ‘Peace?’ said the King. ‘Do you know what the Humans are doing, even as we speak? They are killing Aquarius.’

  ‘And the only way to save it,’ said Bixa, ‘is to make peace. You have to do it, or it’ll be the end of everything. Gala told us that, and so did Major Dashwood.’

  ‘Major Dashwood!’ scoffed the King. ‘He was a Shadow Guard. One of them.’ He shook his head, and sank his teeth into the lamb, ripping meat from the bone, stripping it bare. ‘No, warrior girl. You are right that we must save the stars – but there are better ways of doing that. Aren’t there, Astraeus?’

  He turned to Lucky, his eyes shining with passion and belief. But Lucky had questions for his father – questions he had crossed the whole galaxy to ask.

  ‘If I’m really an Astraeus,’ he said, ‘then why am I here? What am I meant to do with my power?’

  The King held out his big, broad hands. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I knew war was coming, and I knew it would be long and hard and bitter. We needed something to tip the balance in our favour. A secret weapon. And you,’ he said, ‘you are that weapon.’

  Lucky stared at his father. ‘A weapon?’ he said numbly. ‘Is that what I am to you?’

  ‘You are my son, my only son. But yes: you are also the weapon that will win this war, by destroying our enemies forever.’

  Lucky shifted in his chair. Its back was very high. The oak felt hard and unyielding beneath him. Perhaps it was a chair fit for kings and princes – but it was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

  ‘But I’m not even a good fighter,’ he protested. ‘I’m clumsy, useless . . . If you need a fighter, Bixa’s the one you want.’

  His father smiled. ‘I have seen your power, my son. It is greater than any fighter, greater than anything known to Human or Axxa warcraft.’ He threw the bare lamb bone down on his plate. ‘That is what I prayed for. That is why I found the lost legends, made the sacrifices, and performed the rituals to summon an Astraeus from the sky. And that is why the stars sent you: to destroy the Humans.’

  Lucky shivered at his words. His father could be so warm and welcoming – yet so ruthless, too. His gentle features hardened when he spoke of the Humans. A different tone came into his voice: a tone you could not argue with.

  ‘Listen to yourself, Theobroma,’ said Mystica, by the flickering fire. ‘Do you not remember? We are all connected; we are all one. From the stars we all came—’

  ‘Spare me your sermon,’ said the King, his tone growing more bitter. ‘You Startalkers were always so naïve. The Humans started this war. But now at last we have something that can finish it – something greater than their science can conceive of.’ He turned to Lucky. ‘A star come down from the sky. And not just any star.’

  ‘So – which Astraeus am I?’ said Lucky, pulse beating in his ears.

  ‘You do not know? Your mother never said who you really were?’

  ‘She never told me any of this. All she ever tried to do was protect me. But now I’m here, I need to know the truth. So tell me: which of the Twelve am I? Am I the Astraeus of War?’

  His father drew a deep breath. He looked very grave. Lucky’s stomach was tied up in knots; he could hardly bear not knowing any longer.

  ‘Tell him, Theobroma,’ gasped Mystica, as the flickering flames burned low in the fireplace. ‘Even if it is as I fear – Lucky deserves to know the truth.’

  ‘Lucky?’ said the King. He stood up to stoke the fire. ‘That is not your true name.’

  ‘But that’s what my mother called me—’

  Theobroma’s eyes flared. ‘Your mother,’ he muttered. He prodded the fire with a poker, building it back up, making the embers crackle with sparks. ‘How like her, to wish that fate for you – and to deny the destiny you were born for.’

  ‘Why?’ said Lucky. ‘What is it? Who am I? What’s my name?’

  The King closed his eyes, and then he spoke the words. ‘Your name is Lucifer. Not Lucky, but Lucifer.’

  ‘No . . .’ Lucky recoiled from his father.

  ‘Do not pretend you never felt it,’ said the King. ‘You know what is in you, and what you can do. You are Lucifer, the Thirteenth Astraeus: the one we never speak of. There is one in every mythology. A Devil. A Destroyer of Worlds. And that is what you are. You are the nightmare that has haunted Humanity through its history, and now you will put an end to Humanity. For you are the very Devil himself: the Astraeus of Destruction.’

  Lucky felt dizzy, like his head was coming away from his shoulders, like the ground was falling away beneath his feet. ‘But – but – why?’

  The King threw another log on the fire, and the flames rose up, spitting sparks that spiralled towards the ceiling. ‘Space devils,’ he said. ‘That’s what they call us. So let them face the wrath of the real Devil. Not just people who happen to be different to them, but the ancient and terrible power that sends whole races to hell – the Alpha and Omega and the end of all things!’

  And now, finally, Frollix spoke up again. He’d been silent all this time, just watching the King – but now at last he spoke, his eyes glittering with cool blue flame.

  ‘You know what, Yer Majesty?’ he drawled. ‘I don’t think your story makes sense! No one can summon an Astraeus. If a star comes down from the sky, only the stars themselves can know why.’

  ‘And who are you to make this claim?’ asked the King, with barely concealed disdain.

  ‘Oh, didn’t I say?’ replied Frollix. ‘I’m the new Startalker of the Past. I’m the one who knows everything that’s gone before. I even know about those lost legends of yours!’

  The King dropped the poker and stared at Frollix open-mouthed.

  ‘You may claim you summoned
Lucky,’ Frollix went on calmly, ‘but I’ll tell you what really happened. The stars sent him. You recognized what power he had – and you wanted to use it for your own ends. You still do.’

  The King hesitated a moment. Then his eyes flared again. ‘Why else would the Thirteenth Astraeus be here now, at this time of destruction, if not to destroy?’

  Frollix sighed. ‘Professor Byzantine told me something about that, on the Rainbow Temple Wheel. He said some people think there’s a Thirteenth Astraeus, the Astraeus of Destruction – but others think it’s the Astraeus of Creation.’ He shrugged his great shoulders. ‘Creation and Destruction. The Prof thought they were two sides of the same Astraeus, the most powerful of them all. Because the stars don’t just destroy. They create, too. They created everything.’

  ‘But he is Lucifer!’ roared the King, striding to stand over Lucky.

  ‘And you know what that name means?’ said Frollix, standing up too. ‘It means “Bringer of Light”. That’s all. Lucifer wasn’t just the Devil. He was also called the Morningstar: the brightest star. And in all the legends, one thing shines through. Lucifer was stubborn! He stood for free will and choice. So even if Lucky is Lucifer, I reckon he can do whatever he wants with his power. He’s the only one who can decide. You can’t tell him what to do.’

  ‘He is what he is,’ said the King. ‘He knows. He has felt it; I can tell.’ He crouched down before Lucky, his huge horns glittering in the firelight, and gazed deep into his eyes. ‘You must use your power, my son. You must destroy the Humans.’

  Lucky wanted to believe Frollix, but his father’s words had gone deep inside him. He felt hot and cold, all at once. He couldn’t think straight; couldn’t stop the thoughts.

  Was I right, after all? Am I evil? The Devil? The Thirteenth Astraeus?

  ‘I – I don’t want to destroy the Humans,’ he said at last. ‘I’m half Human – they’re part of me, like you are . . . And I’m not just a weapon, like a Dark Matter bomb. I was on Scorpio when the wheel was destroyed. I saw what it was like. Was it you who killed all those innocent people?’

  The King stood up. He walked over to the platters of food. He took a bird’s wing, and snapped it off in his hand. ‘The Humans are not innocent,’ he said. ‘They use our stars to power their machines. They burn our suns to light their cities. And those who let them do this are not innocent, either. The people of Scorpio had the choice to fight on the right side. They refused; they wanted to stay neutral. Now they know better. There is no neutrality. You are either with us or against us in this war.’

  ‘But Professor Byzantine was on that wheel – he died there,’ said Lucky. ‘Your Dark Matter bomb killed him, and thousands who never did anything to you.’

  ‘Baaa-zookaaaa!’ cried the little phoenix, her body glowing crimson in the firelight.

  ‘Of course we regret all loss of life,’ said the King, ‘but that is the risk and the cost of war. I’ll never understand why the Humans hate us – but so long as they fight us, we must fight them. So long as they see us as their enemy, we must be the worst enemy their nightmares can conjure. That is why I summoned you, of all the Astraeus – because that is what you are, Lucifer.’

  Lucky flinched. ‘Don’t call me that,’ he said. ‘Please. It’s not my name.’ He coughed. Smoke was rising from the fire; thick smoke, heavy with pitch and tar. He felt like he was choking on it, suffocating. He looked around for a window, a way out, but there was not a single window in this cabin. No view of the stars on the vidscreens. Only his father’s red eyes, burning into him.

  ‘My son,’ said the King. ‘You have more power than anyone in the galaxy. I gave you that power. Now use it for its proper purpose, and put an end to this suffering.’

  Lucky wanted to trust his father. He wanted desperately to believe that there might be a place for him here –

  – but how could he? He watched the smoke rising, and all he could think of was the Rainbow Temple Wheel.

  ‘How is killing people going to make things better?’ he said. ‘It’ll just make the Humans hate you more. Bixa’s right: you’ve got to make peace. That’s the only way.’

  ‘No,’ said his father, in a low voice. ‘Now you have found me, we can stop them ever killing another star again. Just use your power.’

  ‘But I only just stopped it this time,’ said Lucky. ‘If I use it again, I don’t know where it will end—’

  His father nodded. ‘Destruction without end,’ he agreed. ‘That is precisely what I prayed for.’

  Mystica gasped. Her golden eyes were full of pain. ‘But it would destroy him,’ she said. ‘His body could not take it. He would die!’

  ‘We must be prepared to make sacrifices,’ said the King, ‘if we are to win this war.’

  ‘Your own son?’ said Captain Nox. ‘Do you have any idea what it means to lose a child? Are you really so full of hate that this war means more to you than he does?’

  ‘No one means more to me than my son. But yes, Captain: I would sacrifice everything for what I believe is right. I have sacrificed so much already for our cause.’ The King looked at Lucky – tentative, almost unsure of himself for a moment. ‘Where is Diana – your mother? Why is she not here, too?’

  Lucky shook his head. The feelings burned inside him. There were tears like knives behind his eyes. But he dug his nails into his palms, and made himself say it out loud. ‘The Shadow Guards,’ he said. ‘They came for us. She saved me from them, but she . . .’ He looked down, and said the words at last. ‘She died. My mother’s dead.’

  The King closed his eyes. ‘Then let us avenge her,’ he said, very quietly. He opened his eyes again, and they were burning blazing red. All the gentleness and compassion was gone from his look; and that hard, bitter tone was all Lucky could hear in his voice now. ‘Will you do it? Will you fulfil the destiny you were born for?’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It felt like everything was spinning around Lucky. So many forces at work, so much bigger than he was, and so finely balanced.

  Here it was: the choice Professor Byzantine had anticipated. With such power in you, the day will soon come when you must choose what to do . . . On that day, you will need mental strength, moral clarity and, above all, a proper understanding of who and what you are . . .

  That day had come – yet he didn’t have any of those things.

  All he had was confusion. And it was tearing him apart.

  ‘I – I have to go and think,’ he said.

  He stepped out into the snow at the back of the cabin. Axxa troopers surrounded him, but the King waved them away, then went back into his cabin, leaving Lucky alone with his thoughts.

  It was bitterly cold outside, and as still as death in the shadow of the ice mountain. The wind had dropped. Nothing moved, except the snowflakes falling from the sky.

  And yet the cold was a relief after the King’s cabin. It cooled the burning emotions inside him. Lucky could think clearly, for the first time since he’d found his father and discovered who he really was.

  Lucifer: the Devil.

  When he’d wondered which Astraeus he might be, he’d thought only of the ancient gods. But a devil? No wonder he’d never trusted this power. No wonder he’d always feared it, and felt it could destroy everything, including himself.

  He was right all along. It could. And that was exactly what his father wanted.

  So . . . am I just here to destroy? Is that all my power’s for? I don’t want it to be. This is like a nightmare, and I’m so lost and alone in it—

  There was the crunch of hooves. He looked up. Bixa was watching him from the edge of the cabin. She eyed him coolly as the snow circled down around them.

  He tried to smile at her.

  Couldn’t.

  ‘So you’re the Devil, huh?’ she said. He didn’t answer; what could he say? ‘That’s pretty bad, right?’ Bixa carried on. ‘I mean, the Devil – the real Devil – he’s not so popular, is he? I don’t think you’ll have too many frien
ds. What kind of idiot would hang around with Lucifer?’ She grinned at him.

  He tried to grin back.

  But it was no good. He couldn’t smile. Things were just too bleak for jokes.

  ‘So – are we still friends?’ he asked her. ‘Even though – I am what I am?’

  Bixa screwed her face up into a twisted devil’s mask. She made her needles cluster into horn-shapes above her head. She stuck her tongue out at him, and caught snowflakes on its tip. ‘Well, yeah!’ she yelled. ‘But only ’cos I like kicking your crazy ass so much!’

  And he couldn’t help it: finally his face cracked into a smile. Even with all this madness, she could still make him smile.

  ‘Come here, you moonbrain!’ she said. She pulled him over to her, and hugged him hard. He hugged her back; he hugged her and hugged her, holding onto the one thing in the galaxy that still made sense.

  ‘Lucky,’ she said at last, ‘whoever the hell you are, I’m your friend, right? Whatever happens, I will always be your friend.’

  He felt his face quiver. ‘Yeah. Same goes for you . . .’

  ‘And—’ Bixa started. Then she stopped, and dug her hooves into the snow.

  ‘And what?’ he said.

  ‘And . . . so many other things . . .’

  She looked at him with her silver eyes, and they both held the gaze.

  The snow swirled around them; the wind blew the blizzard straight across their faces; but they didn’t feel it. Didn’t feel it one bit.

  ‘So what are we gonna do now?’ she asked him. ‘What are you gonna do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘All this time, all I ever wanted was to find my father. Finding him was meant to make everything OK! He was meant to give me all the answers, take care of me . . . But now . . .’ Lucky shook his head, and stared down at the snow.

  The wind dropped. The snow stopped falling. It became so calm and clear, he could see tiny ice crystals in the air, sparkling like diamonds.