Page 21 of Starman


  Magariz exchanged a glance with Belial, and Axis caught it. “Oh,” he said, his mouth quirked lopsidedly. “I am not yet ready to sink into a morass of morbidity, my friends, but I confess confusion and frustration. Where is this army? Who leads it?”

  “Can you not use your enchantments, Axis?” Belial asked. “Scry them out, perhaps?”

  Axis laid the sword to one side. “No. I have tried, but there is nothing I can do. Gorgrael lends this army the strength of his power, and he commands a power—the Dark Music—that I cannot use. I cannot understand it, nor the enchantments it creates. If he cloaks his army with that power then I will never find them with my own enchantments. We are reliant on strong feet and wings, Belial, and sharp eyes.”

  Magariz leaned forward, trying to catch some of the warmth from the brazier. “Any news, Axis?”

  “No. You have heard the reports of the Icarii farflight scouts. They see nothing but snow and ice stretching across all of Aldeni.”

  “And Ichtar?”

  “Your promised land, Magariz? No, I have not sent them there. Ichtar is too risky, too unknown. Gorgrael has controlled that for almost two years now, and I fear the Gryphon too much to over-extend the farflight scouts.”

  “And nothing from Sigholt? Or Talon Spike?”

  “Nothing, Belial,” Axis said. “They did not even see enough to warn me of the approach of this Skraeling force, let alone inform me where it is now. Come on,” his tone became brisk, “give me your thoughts. If you were in command of this army, where would you go? What would you plan?”

  “A trap, Axis,” Magariz said, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the faint scar on his cheek. “A trap.”

  Axis’ mouth twisted bitterly. “A trap, he says. What trap, Magariz?”

  Magariz shrugged, shamefaced. “Perhaps he wants to draw you north, into Ichtar. Perhaps that’s where he has gone.”

  “No,” Belial said slowly. “No. We saw the Skraeling mass moving south past Jervois Landing in RuffleCrest’s memory when Axis recalled it for us.”

  “But perhaps that was the trap,” Magariz persisted. “Why was RuffleCrest allowed to escape? We all know that those Gryphon could have torn him apart as easily as they did the rest of his Wing. But they let him go. They let him go with his information.”

  Axis glanced at him sharply. “A good point, Magariz. But what if he’s second guessing us? What if he wants us to think that? What if he does want to draw us into Ichtar?” He paused, thinking deeply. When he resumed, his voice was very soft. “What if he wants to draw us into Ichtar and then attack from behind us?”

  “We would be trapped,” Belial said. “Nowhere to run.”

  “All right, all right, let’s think this through.” Axis stood and paced back and forth. “We know there is a massive Skraeling army somewhere. We know it is now led by a general schooled in warfare, cool-headed, and…and who can use a sword.” He glanced again at Jorge’s blade. “We think—we know—that he seeks to trap us. Belial, if you were he, and you were south of Jervois Landing, where would you hide a large army?”

  Belial took a deep breath, considering the possibilities. “The Western Ranges would be an obvious place, but we have too many scouts and troops through the ranges for them to hide there. Eastern Aldeni? In the curve of the Nordra that holds Kastaleon?”

  Magariz shook his head. “No. The scouts have covered that territory.”

  “They could be hiding beneath the snowdrifts,” Belial insisted. “Waiting.”

  All three men shivered at the thought of snowdrifts coming alive around them.

  “I pray that is not the case,” Axis said. “Anything else?” He looked at his two senior commanders, but both shook their heads after a few moments’ thought.

  “Well.” Axis turned to the brazier. “I am not going to stay around here to be trapped. Alert your commands. We pull out at dawn and move south again. If they want to eat us, then they’ll have to come to us.”

  Axis lay in his bunk, wrapped as tightly in his blankets as he could, dozing lightly. For a long time he dreamed of Azhure, of her smell, of her laughter, of the way she felt in his arms. She rarely left his thoughts, and he wondered vaguely if she would have laughed at the three of them this evening and tossed her head and said that she knew where the Skraeling force was. But she was way to the south now, and had StarDrifter to watch over her, and he hoped that within a few months she could join him.

  If he was still alive.

  He muttered and twisted and forced his thoughts to something else. Unwanted, a vision of Faraday filled his mind. She looked sick, tired, almost as sick as Azhure had with her twins. But she was smiling at someone, and Axis felt that she was all right. At least she is well out of this, he thought, for there are no Skraelings in southeastern Tencendor to tear her throat out.

  The problem of the Skraelings filled his mind again and Axis opened his eyes and stared at the canvas flapping in the wind above his head.

  They had to be somewhere. He let his mind drift, let it wander as it would, asking only that it drift across what it knew of the terrain of western Tencendor. They did not have long to hide, he thought. A week or two, and you cannot move a vast army very far in that time. He had Icarii scouts over Aldeni as soon as the weather cleared. He frowned, trying to remember exactly how long the storms had lasted. Perhaps three weeks from the time they attacked Jervois Landing.

  Where could an army go in three weeks? He had moved reasonably fast from the Three Brothers Lakes to Jervois Landing, yet that had taken him four weeks.

  Dammit! Think, man!

  Ho’Demi was out there. Several parties of the Ravensbund scouts had left his force at the Three Brothers Lakes and had scattered in different directions. The only contact Axis had with any of them was the occasional touching of minds he had with Ho’Demi.

  Yes, Ho’Demi was out there somewhere, sworn to serve both the Prophecy and the StarMan…and Axis hoped his sense of loyalty was stronger to the StarMan than it was to the Prophecy. But Axis hesitated to reach out to him. Ho’Demi would contact him if he needed to, and Axis did not want to disturb the Ravensbund chief unless he had something useful to impart.

  For a long time Axis’ mind wandered back and forth, drifting to Azhure for a time, then to Caelum. He relaxed towards sleep, imagining that Azhure was wrapped in these blankets with him, imagining the ways they could find to pass the night. He sighed and shifted slightly under the blankets. No, there was no better way to spend a murky night than with…

  His eyes flew open and his body jerked so violently he almost fell off the narrow bunk. By the gods themselves, why hadn’t any of them thought of that!

  Ho’Demi! his mind called. Ho’Demi, are you there? Where are you? Ho’Demi?

  Ho’Demi?

  Ho’Demi cursed as he leapt into full wakefulness and hit his head on the top of the tiny ice-cave he was secreted in. StarMan?

  Ah, Ho’Demi, I startled you. Forgive me.

  No doubt the StarMan had good enough reason to wake him with such abruptness. But Ho’Demi could not stop the shortness of his next query. He had been comfortably asleep for the first time in days. What is it?

  Ho’Demi, where are you?

  In a bloody ice-cave.

  Silence.

  Ho’Demi rubbed the top of his head, the smear of blood on the tips of his fingers not improving his temper. Far west.

  Thank the Stars. Axis could not disguise the relief in his mind. Are you close to the Murkle Mountains?

  Yes. A day’s march, two at the most.

  Ho’Demi. Listen to me. I have had an idea.

  “A cursed time to have an idea,” Ho’Demi muttered to himself, but he listened anyway.

  Acting only on a hunch, and knowing he and his thirty thousand could be dead if he was wrong, the next morning Axis gave orders to move west rather than south.

  Towards the Murkle Mountains.

  22

  CAULDRON LAKE

  None of her companions could d
oubt that Yr was ill. Her eyes and cheeks were feverish, her skin splotchy, her hair dull, and she was given to bouts of shivering that almost knocked her off her feet when she was walking.

  But she would smile sweetly at their gentle inquiries, and say, “I am well enough.”

  None pressed too hard, and none touched her. All knew that the power would corrupt, and every day the power radiated out of Yr with increased virility. Zeherah watched her keenly; she would be the last to visit the final Repository of the Gods in the Lake of Life, and consequently she would have to bear the greatest burden of care and comfort.

  The five Sentinels had walked slowly across the northern Plains of Tare to the Silent Woman Woods. They had taken almost six weeks, for no-one wanted to tire Yr too much. They travelled silently and usually at night, avoiding all inhabited areas, their eyes introspective, their mood sombre but not sad.

  Now they stood at the edge of Cauldron Lake in the Woods. The previous night the Keep had held and comforted the Sentinels as it had previously comforted Faraday. For the first night in weeks Yr had managed a sound and almost pain-free sleep.

  Now it was the turn of Ogden and Veremund, and the other three deeply regretted that the corrupting power would undoubtedly consume the brothers’ irrepressible humour as it had Yr’s tart wit. They all knew and accepted their fate. But they all had regrets.

  “I regret the passing of so much life,” Ogden said, his hands folded before him, his eyes unblinking on the soft golden lake before him. “I have enjoyed it all so much.”

  “I never expected to make so many friends,” Veremund said beside him. “I did not expect to discover that I would love the StarMan as a friend as well as revere him as the One named by the Prophecy.”

  The brothers sighed, then spoke as one. “We shall miss riding the open plains, and we regret that we will spend no more evenings about the campfire listening to Axis sing, and watching him smile.”

  “You will see him again,” a gentle voice said behind the small group, and they all turned. It was the Prophet, again in his silvery magnificence, and the Sentinels smiled and bowed slightly.

  He stepped forward, kissed Yr softly, then turned to Ogden and Veremund. The Prophet stepped towards Ogden first, took his face in his hands and kissed him as gently as he had Yr.

  “You will be beloved for always for the sacrifice you now make,” he said. “And you will always rest in my heart. I could not have asked for better than you.” Then he repeated the action and benediction with Veremund.

  Silent tears slipped down the brothers’ faces. As with Yr, they were deeply honoured and grateful that the Prophet chose to be with them at this moment.

  As the Prophet stepped back, Jack moved forward to farewell the two brothers, then Zeherah kissed them and murmured words of farewell.

  Yr stayed where she was.

  “Are you ready, brother?” Veremund asked, and Ogden nodded and took his hand.

  Then the two Sentinels stepped into the golden lake.

  They did not have quite the same journey as Yr had in Grail Lake, for the waters of Cauldron Lake had long since evaporated amid its enchantments. But once they reached the Repository, this one clear of silt and thus revealed in its full glory, they went through the same procedure as she had, pressing the jewels in ordered sequence to gain admittance. And, after walking the Repository’s corridors, they too found the Well of Power, and first Ogden, and then Veremund, leaned down to receive the Power.

  When they emerged from the Lake, their eyes shining feverishly, their lips trembling, Yr stepped forward and hugged them. “Welcome,” she said.

  “Welcome to the final journey.”

  23

  THE TEMPLE OF THE STARS

  “Azhure?” Azhure opened her eyes. “I’m awake, StarDrifter. Come in.”

  StarDrifter stepped quietly into Azhure’s chamber. She was struggling to get out of bed and the Enchanter hurried to lend her his support. His eyes were shadowed with concern, but he said nothing. Azhure did not like any fuss made over her.

  She had grown weaker by the day in the month since they had arrived on Temple Mount, as the babies within her sapped her strength and vitality. StarDrifter wondered why, when Azhure had carried Caelum with so little fuss and so much energy, these two should drain her so. Perhaps it was just that there were two, he thought. And perhaps not.

  She caught his worried look and smiled reassuringly. “I have rested well, StarDrifter. Truly. Is everything ready?”

  “Yes. I have wakened you in plenty of time. Come, you’ll need something to eat beforehand. It will be a long night.”

  She let him lead her to a small table. Once she had sat down StarDrifter peeled some fruits for her, placing them before her in small portions, one by one.

  “Eat,” he said. “Eat.”

  Azhure placed a piece of fruit in her mouth to please him and chewed it unenthusiastically. She did not want to disappoint StarDrifter, or concern him any more than she had to, for tonight would be as hard on him—perhaps harder—than it would be on her. If nothing else, the trip to the Island of Mist and Memory would be worth it for the friendship which had finally deepened and matured between her and StarDrifter. Before his desire for her had always come between them, making her uncomfortable, although, she smiled to herself, doubtless even StarDrifter’s persistent desire had faded before her present bulk.

  But it was more than that. Since the night when Azhure, distraught over her mother’s letter, had come to StarDrifter for comfort, the Enchanter had been almost continually by her side, offering unconditional love and support. The relighting of the Temple of the Stars had been delayed for over ten days because StarDrifter spent so much time with her.

  She swallowed and took another piece of fruit. StarDrifter had done nothing but what she asked that night, just holding her and telling her how much he loved her. She had gone to sleep eventually, wrapped in his arms and wings, still weeping slightly, and when she had woken in the morning he had gently kissed her brow and her cheek and let her go.

  StarDrifter had comforted her, but he had also done something far more important—he had gained her utter trust, and with it, her friendship.

  “Have you thought about what I asked earlier?” StarDrifter said, breaking into her thoughts.

  She nodded slightly, and put down a third piece of fruit untasted. “I have thought about it, StarDrifter, but…oh, I don’t know. It would be different if Axis were here…”

  Tears threatened and Azhure took a deep breath before she continued. “I…we…” She shrugged and pushed the fruit about her plate. “We are not so close to these children as we were to Caelum,” she finished on a whisper, her eyes downcast, her cheeks staining red. It was a shameful thing to admit that you did not love your children.

  Despite her fears, StarDrifter could understand how she felt. Every day he spent time teaching the unborn twins some of their Enchanter skills, and though they responded well to him, he knew they spared their mother nothing but indifference and hostility.

  If he had to carry such antagonism about day and night, StarDrifter knew he would find it hard to love the babies as well. He did not know why the boy and the girl regarded their parents with such coldness and yet liked him, especially when he had been as guilty as Axis in treating Azhure so badly. And why hate their mother only for loving and forgiving their father?

  “Azhure, the babies need names. It is hard for me to teach them at this late stage and yet not address them by name.”

  Azhure finally looked up. “Then you name them.”

  “Me? Azhure, it is the parents’ privilege to—”

  “You name them,” Azhure insisted. “They would accept no name from me.”

  “And you will accept what I name them?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, then…” StarDrifter knew the babies well, and he knew what would suit them. “Azhure, both will be powerful Enchanters and their names should reflect such power, but their names must also reflect
their personalities.” He took a deep breath, and told Azhure his choice.

  Azhure sat back, shocked by the name he’d picked for the boy. “But that is such a powerful name,” she whispered, her hand involuntarily on her belly, “even for a male Enchanter. Are you sure?”

  He nodded and, after a moment, Azhure bowed her head in acceptance. No wonder she felt uncomfortable with these babies.

  There was no formality in the procession to the Temple, everyone just walked quietly along the Avenue until a crowd of some eight or nine thousand stood on the grassy slopes surrounding the dull marble circle. Many from Pirates’ Town had come, as had five boatloads of people, both nobles and commoners, from Nor and several hundred Icarii who had flown down over the past weeks.

  Azhure stood with Caelum in her arms in the centre of the circle of the Temple. She was dressed only in a light lavender gown, for the air was balmy even this high up and this late in the year.

  She had no idea what was going to happen.

  She and Caelum were alone; StarDrifter was conversing with another Enchanter in low tones to one side of the circle, and FreeFall and EvenSong waited in the front ranks of those who watched from outside the circle. As non-Enchanters they would play no role in the relighting.

  And so why am I here? Azhure thought. I am hardly an Enchanter, for I can use none of my powers voluntarily. She had used her power the night she talked to the First, but Azhure had no idea how she had done it beyond the fact that her anger and distress had somehow called it forth.

  Azhure tilted her head and looked at the firmament above, her arms tightening about Caelum. She would have to wait for the birth of the twins before she would learn more. She knew that. WolfStar had said so but, more importantly, Azhure could feel the block they somehow created by their very presence.