“They claim to be my judgment, friend Ferryman.”
Orr jumped so badly he almost fell into the Star Gate. A hand closed about his arm, steadying him.
Orr turned to see who had surprised him, then squealed in terror and stumbled back several paces. “WolfStar!”
Was anyone safe about the Star Gate with this renegade present?
“Peace, Ferryman,” WolfStar said. “I am not the same madman who cast so many children to their deaths.”
Orr was not so sure. Could four thousand years abate such madness? WolfStar may have assisted Axis SunSoar defeat Gorgrael, but Orr’s fear of him was still strong. He carefully backed away yet further.
WolfStar ignored him and stepped over to the Star Gate. Its pulsing blue light washed over his face, turning his copper curls almost as violet as his eyes. For several minutes he stood silent, tense, then his shoulders relaxed slightly and he gave Orr a small, humourless smile.
“They call themselves my judgment,” he said again, “but they are yet far away. We are safe. They will never find the Star Gate again.”
“They?” Orr said. “They? I hear voices. Many voices. And they are angry voices. There is…” He searched for the right word. “There is a pack of them.”
WolfStar’s eyes narrowed. “A ‘pack’, Ferryman?”
“They hunt,” Orr said very quietly, beginning to understand. “They hunt for you.” He was silent briefly, turning a sudden thought over in his mind. “They are those you murdered.”
WolfStar’s mouth twisted slightly and he looked back into the Star Gate. “Yes,” he said. “They yearn for my blood. And perhaps I do not blame them. But I am safe. They do not have the power or the skills to find their way back through the Star Gate. They will drift for eternity, calling my name.”
He did not seem distressed at the thought of what he’d condemned the children to.
“I have never heard them before.” Orr walked closer to the Star Gate, but he still kept a prudent distance from WolfStar.
WolfStar shrugged slightly. “They knew I would die eventually, and that – as all Enchanter-Talons – I would step through the Star Gate for my eternal rest. So they drift on the interstellar winds, looking for me. This is the first time they’ve drifted this close to the Star Gate.”
“But you evaded them before. You stepped back through into this world.”
“Yes, I did. When I died, and then stepped through, the children were in a far part of the universe, utterly lost. Before they drifted back my way I found the knowledge in death that returned me to life.”
That was only a very mild lie on WolfStar’s part. In truth, the power that had allowed him to return had actively sought him out.
Orr accepted WolfStar’s words. He had no doubt the Enchanter never wanted to re-encounter the hundreds of children – or his own wife – whom he had hurled to their deaths.
There was a movement in the shadow of one of the archways that circled the chamber, and both WolfStar and Orr turned towards it.
Caelum SunSoar, StarSon of Tencendor, stepped into the light. “Well, lonely wolf of the night,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on WolfStar, “it has been over forty years since you peered into my cradle and then crushed MorningStar’s head for the temerity of witnessing. Forty years for you to work your mischief. I know of you, WolfStar. You can accomplish a great deal in forty years.”
WolfStar sat down on the low wall of the Star Gate, unperturbed by Caelum’s abrupt appearance. His golden wings spread out to either side of his body, and he tilted his head quizzically, looking Caelum up and down. The intervening years have grown a great man, he decided, and power sits him easily.
And yet WolfStar wondered if Caelum had yet learned the power it would take to best him. He grinned. He doubted it.
“Well?” Caelum snapped, irritated by WolfStar’s demeanour.
“Well, what?”
WolfStar!
All three in the chamber heard it. WolfStar leapt off the wall and across the chamber in a single bound, and Caelum’s eyes narrowed. So frightened, WolfStar? Why? Why?
We’re coming, we’re coming…we hunger…
“They’re lying,” WolfStar said, recovering his poise. “Bluffing. They cannot come through.”
There was a sound in the chamber. Unusual, but rather like…a flock of birds sweeping through the sky.
Caelum locked eyes with Orr momentarily, sharing knowledge, then turned his gaze back to WolfStar. “And how can you be so sure? If you could step back through, then why can’t they?”
Orr faded back underneath one of the arches. He wanted nothing to do with the confrontation between these two.
WolfStar stared at Caelum before he answered. “You want answers, StarSon? Then I will give you some. But not here.”
“Not here where they can hear you, WolfStar? What is it that you have brought upon Tencendor now, renegade?”
Caelum took a step forward, but WolfStar only smiled at the implied threat. No-one could touch him. Except, perhaps…
“I have a fancy to see my grandchildren and a fancy to see what you have made of Sigholt,” he said, forcing his mind away from what else might be accompanying the children.
We’re coming, we’re coming…we hunger…
And pray all gods in creation it is only you who shout my name!
“WolfStar! I demand answers! Do you think I am going to stand aside while your troubles tear Tencendor apart yet again?”
“Sigholt!” said WolfStar. “I will meet you and yours at Sigholt.”
“When?”
“Soon. A day. Wait.”
And then he vanished.
Caelum took a deep breath. Stars, what was going on? He peered into the Star Gate, becoming one with the Star Dance briefly, then shook himself and looked at Orr, still secreted in the shadows. “Have you heard these voices before?”
Orr shook his head. “Today was the first time. StarSon, they are not strong, and…”
“And?”
“And, perhaps to be expected. WolfStar murdered some two hundred and twelve Enchanters, including StarLaughter and the child she carried. I can well imagine that their souls have drifted four thousand years seeking vengeance. Pray their vengeance is directed only at WolfStar.”
“I shall throw the Enchanter through myself if it will appease their need,” Caelum said. “I think I will ask WingRidge to mount a guard here. I would not like us to be…surprised.”
“No need,” said the Ferryman. “I shall stand watch.” WolfStar stood before the gate. The gate to the Maze, not the Star Gate. Its wooden doors were closed – thankfully. WolfStar hoped to be far, far away if ever they opened.
Did anything else follow those voices towards the Star Gate?
His hands drifted over the strange inscription in the stone archway surrounding the gate. It had taken him many years to understand this language. The language of the ancients, or the Enemy, as their enemies referred to them.
The Enemy that had crashed through from the universe so many millennia ago, creating the Star Gate.
Leaving behind its deadly cargo.
He silently cursed, and concentrated on the inscription. Yes, there, there and there. StarSon. As it had been for the past forty years. For three thousand years before that the inscription had only mentioned the vague term “Crusader”, but a year after the birth of Caelum the Maze had changed its mind and substituted “StarSon” for “Crusader”.
Now the symbol for StarSon trumpeted forth, again, and again, leaping out from the gate’s inscription.
This time the Maze was certain.
Well might it be. It was the Maze which had taught WolfStar the Prophecy of the Destroyer, and then commanded him to write it down and do all in his power to ensure its eventual realisation. After he defeated Gorgrael, Axis had asked WolfStar if the Prophecy was nothing but idiot gabble for his own amusement. Then WolfStar had hedged. He’d said that certain knowledges had come to him beyond the Star Gate that made
his return imperative – true enough. However, it was not the Prophecy itself that had persuaded him back through the Star Gate, but rather the Prophecy’s true author. The Maze.
The Prophecy had a very clear and direct purpose, and it had nothing at all to do with protecting Tencendor from Gorgrael.
Its only purpose had been to breed the champion the Maze needed. The Crusader.
WolfStar had always assumed that the Crusader would be Axis, but the Maze had never named him. Instead it had chosen Axis and Azhure’s son Caelum.
WolfStar nodded. Of course. He should have realised that the Crusader would need both Axis’ and Azhure’s blood.
Then a chill swept through WolfStar. If the Crusader had been born and was now named by the Maze, it meant the hour of need must be nigh.
What else followed those voices towards the Star Gate?
He’d had three thousand years to prepare himself for this moment, and yet WolfStar wished he had three score more three thousand years.
StarSon! StarSon! StarSon! the inscription about the Maze screamed. Aid me now!
WolfStar turned very slightly so he could see the row upon row of seated birdmen and women behind him. There were hundreds of them, seated in orderly ranks, slowly swaying from side to side in perfect unison as they regarded the gate with part reverence, part fear, part love.
“Are you true?” WolfStar asked softly.
“True to the StarSon,” replied the hundreds of voices.
On each of their chests glowed the golden knot.
9
WolfStar’s Explanation
Zared caught up with the Ravensbund Chief, Sa’Domai, on Sigholt’s main staircase.
“What’s wrong, my friend? Why has Caelum summoned us this early?” Gods, he’d only been back in his private chamber a few minutes before the impassive Lake Guard was banging on his door!
Sa’Domai shrugged, the tiny bells in his braided hair jingling merrily. “I can think of no reason Caelum would pull us from our beds this early, Zared.”
“Not for Council, surely?”
His question was effectively answered as RiverStar and Zenith joined them from one of the landings. Neither had a seat on the Council. Zenith, Zared noticed, looked as haggard as he felt.
She shook her head at Zared’s enquiring glance, while RiverStar ignored both him and Sa’Domai. RiverStar had her own reasons for feeling tired this morning.
Below them Zared heard FreeFall softly greet Yllgaine of Nor, then both the Icarii Talon and the Nors Prince were behind them. Zared nodded greetings at them, noting that both wore worried expressions.
What was wrong? Invasion? Surely not – who would invade?
Have farflight scouts reported the troops I have mustering west of Jervois Landing? Zared wondered, fear turning his belly to ice. But he quelled the thought quickly, filling his mind with jumbling images of the landscape between Severin and Sigholt. This place was full of Enchanters – and the most powerful of all would be in this hastily convened gathering. Zared needed none of them reading his mind. Even Zenith had indicated last night that she owed her highest loyalty to Tencendor itself.
Where were Herme and Theod? Not called to this meeting, that was apparent. Were they already in chains in the dungeons? Were their confessions already being signed with their blood?
Stop it! Zared carefully arranged his face in a neutral expression. Rivkah had carefully nurtured her son’s vivid imagination, now Zared cursed it.
Caelum lived in the spacious apartments that had once belonged to his parents. The central chamber was large, but it now seemed crowded with people moving about, finding themselves seats or stools, murmuring greetings, raising eyebrows in puzzled anxiety.
“By the stars themselves,” muttered FreeFall SunSoar behind Zared, clapping a friendly hand on the prince’s shoulder. “I hope my nephew has had the foresight to order us breakfast!”
Zared nodded, smiling slightly. He respected FreeFall greatly. The Icarii Talon was an extraordinary birdman, not only because, as most of the SunSoars, he was exceptionally beautiful with his violet eyes and silvery white wings, but because he had once died for Axis, only to have the Star God himself plead for the return of his soul with the GateKeeper in the realms of the Underworld. FreeFall’s journey to the gates of death had changed the birdman. He was still fun-loving and quick-witted, but there was a depth of experience and knowledge about him, even an eerie stillness, that touched the souls of all in his presence.
FreeFall found a stool to sit on, folding his wings neatly behind him and his hands patiently in his lap. Yllgaine of Nor, his dark eyes mischievous and his person beautifully clothed and jewelled even this early in the morning, touched Zared on the elbow. “There, a couch…if we leap and shove and scream I believe we can get there before Askam drapes himself along it.”
Zared bit his cheek to stop himself grinning and followed Yllgaine, decorous and polite despite his words, across the room, and sat down next to him.
He chatted quietly with Yllgaine about inconsequential matters while looking about the chamber. Caelum, who had called everyone so hastily from their beds, had yet to make an appearance. All the Five were here. Askam was lounging against a window, and Sa’Domai had taken a stool next to FreeFall. As well as RiverStar and Zenith (who, Zared was amused to note, had sat as far away from her sister as possible), Caelum had also invited SpikeFeather TrueSong and WingRidge CurlClaw. Zared did not know either very well. Both, if not aloof, were in some undefinable way unapproachable. Besides, SpikeFeather now spent so much time with Orr the Ferryman it was little wonder that few among the Achari – human, dammit! – race knew him well.
The gathering had arranged themselves comfortably and were either quiet, or murmuring softly to their neighbours, when Caelum entered from a door hidden behind a curtain.
Zared’s eyes widened a little at the sight of him – Caelum had also spent a sleepless night, it seemed. He was dressed and groomed perfectly, but his eyes were lined and weary.
Something was worrying Caelum badly.
A knot of fear coiled about Zared’s belly. Had he seen any guards stationed in the main stairwell or the corridors as he’d come to Caelum’s chambers? No, but they could now be lining the walls, and the Strike Force could be wheeling outside the windows, for all he knew.
He caught eyes with Zenith. She shrugged slightly, but indicated with a small gesture of her head not to worry. Caelum had not discovered that Zared had spent so many hours with Leagh last night.
Maybe not that, Zared thought, but what else? Gods! Where was Herme? Theod?
Caelum walked to a spot before the unlit fireplace, so large and extensive that its mantel loomed above his head. “I am sorry to have called you here so early,” he said, “but something has happened that –”
The outer door opened and Drago walked through. Two steps inside he stopped, apparently astonished at the gathering in Caelum’s apartment.
He ran his eyes slowly about those assembled, his eyes lingering on Zenith and RiverStar, then he looked questioningly at Caelum. “Brother? I do beg your forgiveness for so intruding –”
Zared thought he sounded anything but apologetic. In fact Drago’s voice was so carefully neutral, so perfectly modulated, that his words sounded like a speech he’d carefully rehearsed walking up the stairwell.
“– but I was searching for Zenith and one of the guards told me I could find her here.”
Drago paused, as if waiting for someone to say something. When no-one did, he carried on. “If I may ask, why so many people crowded into your chamber, Caelum? This all seems a trifle…unusual.”
Caelum stared at his brother, his eyes blazing, but Drago held his stare easily, his own face carefully set into an expression of inquiry.
Zared thought it extraordinary. Few people could hold Caelum’s gaze when he was angry, as he so obviously was now, but Drago apparently had no difficulty.
“Every member of our family who is currently in Sigholt seems
to be present,” Drago said very softly, “and yet I wonder why it is that you forgot to extend me an invitation as well.”
Zared had to repress a small, hard smile. There was the crux of the matter. Drago had heard about this hastily convened meeting, and decided to attend as well. He’d put Caelum in a difficult position. If he asked Drago to leave, Caelum would look petty; if he asked him to stay, it would be clear that Drago had forced him to back down.
“Perhaps as Drago has business with me,” Zenith said into the silence, “he could stand with me here until this meeting is over…unless your errand is so important you suggest I leave with you now, Drago.”
Drago finally dragged his gaze away from his brother. “No, it was but a trivial idea I had for a new board game, Zenith. But, as I find the rest of the family here, I might as well stay.”
And he walked over to his sister, stepping around FreeFall and Sa’Domai as he did so.
Caelum looked at Zenith, looked at Drago, then took a deep breath and noticeably bit down his temper. Zared thought it must have taken a particular effort, for Drago had verged on the insolent – but Zared also had to admire Drago’s nerve, and sympathise with the man for being so obviously excluded from the life of Sigholt. For a SunSoar, that would indeed be galling treatment.
Despite the terrible deeds of Drago’s youth, Zared rather liked the man, and had always got on well with him. Drago was quick-witted and fast on his feet, and often spent a morning at weapon practice with Zared when the Prince stayed at Sigholt; Zared had good cause to rue the occasional lapse of concentration that had seen Drago give him a deserved nick with the sword blade. Watching him slip in beside Zenith, giving her a small smile, Zared decided that Drago was talent and intellect ignored and wasted by most of his family.
Then Caelum spoke again, and Zared turned his eyes back towards him.
“WolfStar has reappeared,” Caelum said, and watched the faces of everyone in the room. All wore varying expressions of horror, amazement, and shock. All, Caelum noted with disquiet, save Drago, who managed to combine shock with a certain degree of thoughtfulness, as if weighing up the possibilities for mischief in this development.