Crusader
That’s why Fate would bind them together again.
StarLaughter laughed, immersed in her beauty and the feel of the robe. WolfStar would not be able to resist her!
After a few more admiring moments, StarLaughter continued on her way. The corridors and stairwells were clear this deep in, and she had no trouble finding the basements.
They were dank and cold, but StarLaughter could feel the power that remained here. It was a residual power, as if the enchantments were fading after whatever they protected had been removed, but it was enough, and StarLaughter knew that Qeteb, or any of the other Demons, would not be able to spy her out here.
“It is not a palace fit for me,” she observed, but sank down gracefully in the centre of the chamber, folding her legs underneath her and her wings against her back.
She faced the door, and waited.
And as she waited she allowed herself to further remember, and she laughed very softly, remembering the first time WolfStar and she had made love.
Many hours passed, and StarLaughter succumbed to her lethargy. She dozed, for how long she could not tell, but when she came to awareness again, she sensed she was no longer alone.
StarLaughter raised her head and stared toward the door.
A young Icarii birdwoman stood there. She had white wings and fair, translucent skin, but their beauty was absorbed and murdered by the black gown she wore. She had fine gold hair that curled about her forehead, violet eyes and a full and sensuous mouth, but her beauty was spoiled by the expression of sadness that she wore, almost as a cloak over her depressing robe.
“Hello, StarGrace,” StarLaughter said. “I have been expecting you.”
StarGrace nodded, but said nothing, and she walked further into the chamber.
She had a peculiar gait, almost as if she were walking on claws rather than feet.
StarLaughter tilted her head to one side and regarded StarGrace. It was a positive sign that StarGrace appeared so: the Hawkchilds could transform themselves back into a semblance of their former selves, but generally it did not suit them.
Revenge always required a much darker mien.
But here was StarGrace in at least a semblance of her former self, although StarLaughter could see she’d left her feet taloned and the material of the robe shifted from feather to cloth with every movement of the eye. And since StarGrace had returned to her former appearance, that meant only one thing: StarGrace was willing to talk, and to talk on StarLaughter’s terms.
“Qeteb sent you to hunt me down?” StarLaughter said.
“Yes.” StarGrace’s voice was husky, almost whispery.
“How did you find me?”
“I haunted these corridors, too. Remember?”
StarLaughter nodded. StarGrace was her niece, daughter of CloudBurst, WolfStar’s younger brother. StarGrace had spent many years in Talon Spike as well, and as a SunSoar, close to the Talon, she would have known about these basements.
“I knew this would be the only place you could hide,” StarGrace continued.
“And yet you did not tell this to Qeteb,” StarLaughter said. She wanted to smile—now she knew she could manipulate the Hawkchilds!—but realised the folly of revealing her triumph too soon, and so kept her face impassive.
StarGrace had moved to within a pace of StarLaughter, and now she extended a hand—StarLaughter noted that it, too, was in the shape of a claw—to help StarLaughter rise.
“I wanted to hear what you had to say,” StarGrace said, and StarLaughter nodded.
She brushed out her gown, and spoke. “I have become disenchanted with Qeteb and the Demons.”
“Questors,” corrected StarGrace.
“No,” StarLaughter said firmly. “Not Questors. Demons.” She shrugged. “Although, in truth, the semantics of the matter bothers me little. Demons or Questors, they aided us when no-one else would, and gave us succour and hope.”
“This is true.”
“They said they would return us to Tencendor so we could revenge ourselves on WolfStar.”
“This is true.”
“But have they done this?”
StarGrace was silent, regarding StarLaughter thoughtfully.
“We are back in Tencendor, true—but look what they have done to it!”
“I don’t think that the ruin of Tencendor means much to our plans for—”
“And do they let us do what we need to do?” StarLaughter continued, putting as much emotion and conviction into her voice as she was able. “Why can’t they let us go to hunt down WolfStar? Stars knows it is the only reason we continue to exist!”
StarGrace shifted from foot to foot (claw to claw), and blinked. She cocked her head to one side, thinking.
“It was the only thing that kept us going through our frightful deaths and then through thousands of years drifting in space!” StarLaughter grabbed the front of StarGrace’s robe and gave her a little shake. “We are nothing without a fulfilment for our revenge!”
StarGrace finally nodded. “What do you want?”
“Will you tell Qeteb that you could not find me?”
“What?” StarGrace cocked her head, then tipped it to the other side, regarding StarLaughter almost as a mouse she might like to gobble up. “Why?”
“So I can be left in peace to find WolfStar. Who else can do it? When I find him, we can then have our revenge!”
StarLaughter was not finding it easy to lie to StarGrace, but she needed to do it. The last thing she could tell the Hawkchilds was that she and WolfStar were destined to reunite in love! StarLaughter had no intention of handing WolfStar over to the Hawkchilds for a nasty death, but for the moment she could do with their sharp eyes, and so for the moment they would prove useful.
StarLaughter was forgetting even her desire to rescue her son in her new-found love for WolfStar. Ah! They had been such magnificent lovers once, and would be again!
StarGrace narrowed her eyes at the emotions roiling across StarLaughter’s face, and StarLaughter only just managed to remember her need to convince the Hawkchilds of her need for a revenge on WolfStar.
She tried to look as guileless as possible…no easy task.
“You want time and space to find WolfStar?” StarGrace said. “He is in the Maze, surely.”
“No!” StarLaughter said, her voice horribly shrill. “I looked! I did! He’s gone.”
She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The Demons let him escape. When they had him in their very parlour! Do you see what I mean? Why didn’t they give him to us then? Obviously we can’t trust the Demons to hunt WolfStar down for us. I must do it.”
StarGrace thought, her face unreadable.
“Have I not lusted for revenge with you for the past countless thousands of years? For the Stars’ sakes, StarGrace, I want him dead as much as you do!”
“And so you want me to lie to the Demons.”
“Yes. What do we owe them? Nothing. They used us and drained us. Now we are on our own. You and me and the other children. On our own.”
“I do not like to have to lie to Qeteb.”
StarLaughter could hear the uncertainty in StarGrace’s voice.
“My dear,” she said gently, and gathered the girl into her arms, “will you protect me? I need the space and the peace in which to find him so that we may all revenge ourselves on him. Will you grant me that?”
“And when you do find him?” StarGrace pulled back, but reluctantly, and StarLaughter knew it. “I and my companions would not like to be cheated of our revenge as well.”
“When I find him, I shall call. StarGrace, will you tell Qeteb you could not find me?”
StarGrace was silent a long moment, then she gave a quick jerk of her head in assent. “Find him, and, finding him, do not fail us.”
StarLaughter nodded. “I will not fail you, StarGrace, nor any of the others whom WolfStar murdered.”
Then she smiled, and leaned forward and kissed StarGrace on the cheek.
The Hawkchild pulled back in astonishment. A hug was one thing, but a kiss?
“Do you not remember what it was like to be loved, StarGrace?”
“I remember that love did not save me from a vile death.”
And then StarGrace was gone, and StarLaughter had the time and space she needed. She sat down again, folding the material of her robe carefully to display her form to best advantage, and thought. The Hawkchilds would now work to her purpose, providing her, not only with a degree of protection from Qeteb (damn him for all time!) but also with hundreds of eyes to seek out WolfStar.
StarLaughter frowned slightly, chewing her lip. Who else could help bring her and WolfStar back together again? Ah! DragonStar! WolfStar would doubtless worm his way into DragonStar’s camp sooner or later, and StarLaughter would need to gain DragonStar’s trust in order to get WolfStar back.
So…how to enlist DragonStar’s trust and aid? StarLaughter thoughtfully cupped one of her breasts in her hand. Her body had tempted DragonStar once and no doubt could again…no! She needed to keep herself pure for WolfStar. She must use guile rather than seduction.
Ah! StarLaughter giggled. She had the perfect idea! Not only would it appeal to DragonStar’s desire to wrest Tencendor back from the Demons, and gain her WolfStar, it might also cause the Demons enough trouble that she and WolfStar would be able to rescue their son as well.
She sighed, happy, contented, and as dreamy as a thirteen-year-old girl in love for the first time.
Chapter 14
Envy
DragonStar sat in a great circular stone hall. It was flagged and walled with cream-coloured stone shot through with gold. Rose and sapphire glass windows rose to dizzying heights, their columns supporting a hammerbeam ceiling of golden wood. DragonStar had wanted somewhere quiet to sit, and Sanctuary had, as was its wont, provided him with this.
As with most things within and of Sanctuary, the peaceful beauty of the hall left DragonStar feeling uncomfortable. This perturbed him, not only because he was disturbed at the appearance of Sanctuary—it reminded him too much of the worlds the Demons had dragged him through—but because of the deep river of disquiet that ran through the peoples sheltering in Sanctuary. Stars! If they were bored and fractious here, then how would they cope with the eternal peacefulness of the Infinite Field of Flowers? Ah! DragonStar forcibly turned his mind away from his worries. No doubt his disquiet was caused by seeing Qeteb not only in Spiredore but at the gates of Sanctuary itself.
And by the unsettling sight of Niah.
“What is it about you, Niah,” DragonStar whispered. “What?”
He sighed, and looked down. He sat cross-legged on the floor, the Enchanted Song Book in his lap. The blue-feathered lizard was curled up at his back, and DragonStar leaned back against him comfortably.
Every so often the lizard snored, and whenever he did, a shaft of light glinted from one of his claws.
DragonStar paid no attention. More than anything else, he wanted to get out and do things, but he knew—as he’d told his witches—that he needed experience as well as a thorough knowledge of the Enchanted Song Book before he could do anything against the Demons.
He opened the leather cover and slowly thumbed through the pages. The Book contained Songs, music and dance that symbolised the enchantments needed to defeat the Demons. They would mirror the Demons’ own malevolences back to them and destroy them.
“And wipe them from the face of this land and of the universe for ever and ever,” DragonStar whispered.
He thought about what Axis had told him. Caelum had tried one of these dances atop Star Finger, but had been consumed almost entirely by the hatred and malevolence the song contained.
DragonStar’s fingers traced over a line of music: he could feel the emotion this particular song contained—envy. He ran his tongue over his top lip, stared at the form and melody of the song, then swiftly converted it to numbers and then symbols in his mind.
He felt sick with apprehension. Should he try it? See what happened…Could he control the Song more than Caelum?
At his back the lizard stirred and sat up.
“Well, my beauty,” DragonStar said. “What do you think I should do?”
The lizard yawned, then flexed one of his foreclaws.
“So,” DragonStar said, “we try it.”
What other choice did he have?
He rose to his feet and put the Book down. As the lizard had just done, DragonStar flexed a hand, then rose and traced the symbol in the air before him.
The lizard traced it with light.
And Envy filled the Hall.
A wizened old man stood before DragonStar and the lizard. He was twisted and humpbacked, his limbs stumpy, his hands contorted with arthritis.
He was naked, and his skin was sallow and slick with the sheen of sweat.
Lumps and moles covered his face; his eyes were like narrow slits that saw everything, noting them all down to be examined in the privacy of disenchanted silence.
He smiled, revealing crooked, yellowing teeth, and horrid thoughts consumed DragonStar’s mind.
Caelum had enjoyed it all. He’d had forty years of love, forty years of respect, forty years of lording it over the peoples of Tencendor. So he’d died horribly—so what? Now he dwelt in the Field of Flowers, no doubt enjoying the adulation of everyone else who lived there.
And what was Drago, poor Drago to do. Why! destroy the Demons of course, while Caelum continued to enjoy himself. He’d had only a few minutes of pain, while Drago had forty years behind him, and more ahead.
DragonStar felt such consuming envy ripple through him that he literally growled. He felt his own back hunch over, and his hands twist into claws. Caelum was nothing but a spoilt bastard who’d had everything handed to him on a golden platter, while he, he, had to do all the hard work.
The misshapen figure of Envy capered about before him, clapping its hands, and howling with merriment. “Why don’t you visit the Field of Flowers and destroy him forever,” he whispered. “You can do it, you know. You have the power.”
The lizard growled, and backed away a few paces.
DragonStar whipped about, raising his hand as if to strike the creature—what had that lizard ever done but enjoy a free ride? He’d spent aeons as an unfettered spirit in the Sacred Grove, and then the Minstrelsea forest, and had then simply attached himself to DragonStar’s cause with no hard work involved at all—and then halted the instant before his hand flashed down in a cruel blow.
What was happening?
DragonStar struggled to control the envy, and the other emotions envy bred—hate and cruelty and a cloying, horrid self-justification—but he couldn’t…he couldn’t…
The old man capered about him in circles, clapping his hands. “Enjoy it!” he cried. “Give in to it! Why bother with such inconveniences as regard for others? Enjoy it! It’s the easiest way!”
And DragonStar could feel how easy it would be. All he’d have to do was give in and let the envy consume him, and all would be well, all would be well, and he could finally relax and bathe in the emotions that he’d nurtured for so many years as a resentful man locked inside the hate of Sigholt and the SunSoar family.
A small hand slipped into one of his, and DragonStar jerked. It was Katie, her eyes frightened, her mouth trembling.
DragonStar saw that she was terrified.
Envy howled with rage.
“The cats!” Katie whispered. “The cats!”
The cats? DragonStar stared at her. Why was she helping him…or was she helping him at all? Why, Faraday cherished this little girl in a way that she did not cherish him, DragonStar could see that now. Faraday gave this weak little girl all the love and attention that she never gave him.
DragonStar growled again, and jerked his hand from Katie’s.
Envy laughed.
And something small and furry wound its way about DragonStar’s legs.
He jerked his eyes down. It was a white and mar
malade cat, and its body shook with the strength of its purrs.
DragonStar lifted his hand to strike the thing—
—and remembered. He remembered that the cats had given him nothing but unconditional love when he’d been rejected by everyone and everything else in Sigholt. He remembered that they’d left their food to comfort him; they’d been content in his company, and they had revelled in his friendship.
They had asked for nothing in return.
They had not envied him his strength, or his speech, or even his name.
They had just loved him.
DragonStar lifted his eyes to Envy. “I pity you,” he said, and Envy screamed.
“Let me offer you my friendship,” DragonStar said, and extended his hand, palm upwards.
Envy stared, whimpered, and suddenly disappeared.
DragonStar shuddered, and leaned down, hands on knees, trying to regain his equilibrium.
The lizard had scuttled across the room, and now was hunched down on the floor with his claws firmly tucked underneath his body. He wanted nothing more to do with enchantments from that Book.
The white and marmalade cat was curled up behind him, watching DragonStar carefully.
“I cannot use this Book,” DragonStar eventually whispered.
“Use it you must,” Katie said, “or all who have sacrificed themselves before you, and who will sacrifice themselves in the future for you, will have done so in vain.”
DragonStar straightened and stared at the girl. “The Book contains nothing but foulness.”
Katie stared at him.
“Dammit! What is its secret? How do I use it!”
She continued to stare silently at him.
“You have most to lose, damn you—so tell me its secret!”
“I cannot,” Katie said, her voice sad. “You must learn it for yourself.”
DragonStar fought an overwhelming urge to throw the Book across the room, then he forced himself to relax, slowly rotating his neck and shoulders, and finally offered Katie his hand.
“I am sorry.”
She smiled and slipped her hand into his. “You should already have learned one lesson,” she said. “What was it?”