Crusader
Isfrael placed the bowl on the ground. “I need water.”
Instantly Sheol was at his side, solicitously offering him a pewter pitcher filled with clear, sweet water.
She poured it into the bowl, and as it swirled about, the water changed to a deep emerald colour.
Isfrael’s chest constricted with excitement, and he had to fight to calm himself. He opened his right hand, and hesitated.
Qeteb, deep inside Isfrael’s unwitting mind, instantly leaned out his own hand, one finger extended.
Isfrael stared at the mailed hand, then took a grasp of it—
It was deathly cold, as if it had been entombed for centuries within one of the great bergs that drifted in the Iskruel Ocean.
—and used one of the sharpened overlapping joints above a knuckle to slice a small way into his thumb.
Blood welled, and Isfrael let Qeteb’s hand go.
He had not noticed the intensity of its cold, or the intensity of the coldness that now coiled deep inside his mind.
A trace, that the Demons could use later, at their leisure.
Isfrael stood over the bowl murmuring prayers and invocations to the Mother, then he let a single drop of blood fall into the bowl of water.
Blood swarmed over the entire surface of the emerald water.
Isfrael bent down, picked up the bowl, then straightened. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back slightly, and prepared to enter the groves.
“Do it now!” he whispered. “Use your power to propel me now!”
And the Demons did. They sniggered and they capered, they dribbled and they scampered, and they concentrated their entire power on the man and the bowl before them.
After all, they had promised.
Isfrael screamed, and then emerald light consumed him. He found himself caught up in a whirlpool of the light, and he almost panicked, until he realised that he was being propelled towards the Sacred Groves with such power that he was being forced through the barriers the Mother had erected.
It hurt. Dreadfully.
But he could feel himself being forced through.
Isfrael clung even tighter to the bowl, concentrating as hard as he could on the image of the Groves…and suddenly he could feel the firmness of a forest floor beneath his feet, and he could smell the pungent odour of the trees, and then the emerald light resolved into the form of a thousand trees.
He was in the Sacred Groves. Finally.
Isfrael stood triumphantly. He had done it! He was safe! He turned slightly, and he saw a silver-backed Horned One walking towards him. The Horned One’s stag head was trembling, and his liquid dark eyes were filled with anger.
Anger…and panic.
“What have you done!” the silver-pelt hissed. “What have you done?”
And he knocked the bowl from Isfrael’s hands. “What is this abomination you introduce into the Groves?”
Qeteb stood in the centre of the apple grove, Faraday’s bowl in his hands.
“I do hope he liked the imitation I sent with him,” he said, and all the Demons howled with laughter.
Chapter 20
Qeteb’s Mansion of Dreams
What DragonStar found in Sanctuary appalled him. Leagh, lying bruised and tearful on her bed, with Zenith at her side, Zared at her other, and StarDrifter, Axis, Azhure, Goldman and Gwendylyr all hovering about, whispering uselessly.
Faraday stood to one side by a window, calm but clearly upset. Katie clung to her skirts, looking resigned.
“What happened?” DragonStar said, striding into the chamber. He’d known the instant that he’d stepped back into Sanctuary that something was wrong. The air smelt vaguely tainted, as if corrupted with the tang of a rotten apple that someone had thrown to one side and then forgotten.
Leagh half raised herself, ignoring Zenith’s and Zared’s protests. “Isfrael forced me to give him the doorway that you gave to each of us,” she said. “And he stepped through it into Spiredore.”
DragonStar sat down by Leagh’s side as Zenith stood to give him room. She stepped back and stood with StarDrifter.
“He hurt you,” DragonStar said.
Leagh attempted to smile, but it did not work very well. “I will be well enough,” she said. “A few bruises, both to body and soul.”
DragonStar glanced at Faraday, exchanging unspoken concerns with her, then he gently rested a hand on Leagh’s abdomen.
“Faraday said the child was well,” Leagh said.
“Aye,” DragonStar said, and smiled for Leagh. “The child is well.” Physically, yes, but spiritually frightened and lost and feeling so insecure that DragonStar wondered if it might try to fight its way free of the womb. If born now it would never survive.
“I saved the doorway,” Leagh said, and her voice cracked with tears. “I did not allow him to take—”
“Hush,” DragonStar said, and lifted his hand to caress Leagh’s cheek. “Hush. There is no guilt or blame in what happened. None that you should bear. Faraday,” he lifted his eyes, “where do you think Isfrael went? What do you think was his purpose? Helpful…or foul?”
Faraday took a deep breath, and her shoulders trembled. Katie clung a little closer. “I cannot think but that it was foul.”
DragonStar waited, his gaze steady.
“He hates me,” Faraday continued, her voice a little steadier, “for many reasons, but most recently and perhaps most powerfully for disinheriting him, as he understands it, from his position as Mage-King. I think that he may have had some plan to regain that power and position.”
“How?”
Faraday shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I don’t know. We have all discussed this, and none of us know.”
“Where could he have gone from Spiredore?”
Axis answered, stepping forward and giving Leagh a reassuring smile before he looked at his son. “We all thought the Sacred Groves, but Faraday has told us that the Mother closed off the paths to the Groves before Qeteb was finally resurrected.”
“And Spiredore would not have been strong enough to breach Her barriers,” Azhure put in. She linked an arm through Axis’, and they shared a small smile.
Always the love for themselves, DragonStar thought, and not so much for others. But the thought caused him no resentment, and he wondered if he and Faraday would ever have the time and the peace to indulge in the same luxury of love. How much time had they shared over the past days since he’d arrived in Sanctuary? A few hours snatched here and there, and no more.
“Is there anywhere he could have gone where he could have avoided the Demons?” DragonStar asked. His frustration was clearly evident in his voice.
Silence.
“We cannot think of anywhere,” Faraday said eventually. Her voice was breaking.
He went to the Demons! The same thought exploded through all their minds.
“Gods!” DragonStar whispered, and rubbed his forehead. “Why? Why?”
“Our son,” Axis said, and looked at Faraday, “our son has betrayed us.”
DragonStar had to struggle to repress bitter laughter. You always have to have a son to betray you, don’t you, Axis? But he managed to banish the thought almost as soon as it surfaced.
Damn it! He had to think! Why would Isfrael have gone to the Demons?
“And how did he think he was going to survive?” he muttered.
Again, silence, and again it was Faraday who eventually broke it. “He would have gone to bargain with them,” she said, “but with what, and for what, I do not know.”
DragonStar lifted his eyes to hers. “We are going to have to find out,” he said.
This was difficult, and extremely dangerous, but DragonStar had no choice. He had to know what Isfrael was about to do.
Or what he had already done. Stars alone knew if they were going to be able to stop Isfrael, or if the situation had gone too far to remedy the damage.
They were in a small room: DragonStar, Faraday, Gwendylyr and Goldman, and Axis and Azhure. Axis and
Azhure could not help with power, but DragonStar somehow wanted them there, not only for the knowledge and experience they shared, but also because their presence comforted him.
And DragonStar was gladdened beyond measure by that sense of comfort.
They all sat in a small circle of chairs, close-touching, save for Faraday who knelt within the circle before DragonStar, her hands on his lap.
“Faraday,” DragonStar said, “of all of us present, you are the one with the closest bond to Isfrael.”
“And that not very close at all,” she said, sadly.
DragonStar smiled for her, letting love and tenderness wash over his face. “You held him within your body for many months, and you bear a mother’s love for him. You have a bond, and you also have power.”
She nodded. DragonStar had explained what they must do. Follow Isfrael through the door with their minds and their power. Follow the memory of where he went, and what he did.
See.
The entire procedure was horrendously risky. They were all exposing themselves to attack by the Demons, for their mind power would provide a direct link back to their bodies which remained in this room.
Faraday looked at DragonStar, and, in turn, DragonStar looked at Axis.
Axis gave a slight nod, his face stiff with tension and fear. If the Demons follow our minds back into Sanctuary, DragonStar had told him, and seize control of our bodies, then kill us. It will be your—and Sanctuary’s—only hope.
Axis had spent many long years longing for the chance to kill DragonStar. Now? No, he did not think he could do it. Not even with a Demon leering at him with DragonStar’s eyes.
And Faraday! How could he kill Faraday?
Axis looked at Azhure, and her eyes were steady. Axis took a deep breath. “We are ready,” he said.
DragonStar checked Gwendylyr and Goldman. They sat to either side of him, their hands on his shoulders.
They nodded, their faces as tense as Axis’.
DragonStar closed his eyes, and Faraday, Gwendylyr and Goldman followed suit. Axis and Azhure were the only ones who stayed alert, and their eyes they kept watchful.
Seek, DragonStar said to Faraday with his mind voice, and she sought.
She remembered the feel of Isfrael within her body, the thud of his infant heart against the walls of her womb, the feel of him, of his body, his spirit, his soul. She concentrated so hard that eventually she could feel the sensations again, feel the weight of him within her, feel the love that they’d shared during that time.
And she sent her senses scrying through space and time, searching out the recent memories of her son.
In Leagh’s chamber. Faraday knew he’d been in Leagh’s chamber, so she started there.
Where was Isfrael’s memory? Where? Where?
There! A shadow slipped across her mind, and Faraday concentrated as hard as she could. She was distantly aware of DragonStar’s, Gwendylyr’s and Goldman’s minds accompanying hers, but they were familiar and loved and safe, and she paid them no heed.
All she thought of was Isfrael.
There he was, his hands on Leagh, his hate rippling across his face. The door, in his hands, stretching so he could step through it…Leagh, desperately fighting her way upright and across the bed so she could close the door before Isfrael could take it with him—
Quick! DragonStar’s mind spoke. Quick, we must go through the door before Leagh closes it!
And there was a surge of power from the other three, and Faraday felt herself being propelled through the doorway even as Leagh closed it down about…them. Yes, Faraday allowed herself a moment of relief. The other three had come through with her. They were with her. They would protect her.
Back in the room Axis and Azhure stared at the four forms before them. They were still there, but slumped and almost lifeless.
“They’ve gone through the door,” Azhure said very softly. “Stars help them now.”
Axis’ hand slipped down to the sword at his side, then lifted back to his lap again.
They were fleeing with Isfrael through Spiredore—Gods! DragonStar’s mind said, this memory is so cold! First to the dead end of the blue-misted tunnel when Isfrael had thought to enter the Sacred Groves direct…
The Sacred Groves! thought Faraday. He wants to go to the Sacred Groves!
…and then into the circle of apple trees.
They saw with his eyes the circle of stumps, and then they saw with his eyes the Niah-woman, and felt his joy that she was there.
And then they saw the Demons.
“Hello,” said Qeteb. “So glad you dropped in.”
And all four felt fingers of iron close about their minds.
Axis and Azhure jumped, and Axis swore briefly, softly.
The bodies of DragonStar and the other three slumped completely, losing all muscle tone and all colour.
Axis would have thought them dead save that their chests continued to rise and fall; slowly, reluctantly, almost imperceptibly.
“What do we do?” Azhure said.
“Wait,” said Axis.
His hand closed about the hilt of his sword.
They found themselves in a mansion of many rooms: they stood in a central atrium, with numerous doors and corridors darting off at odd angles.
DragonStar felt Gwendylyr panic, and he steadied her.
She looked at him with frightened eyes, although her panic had eased. “I can feel you,” she said.
DragonStar nodded, trying to think out what had happened. But whatever had happened, it had gone badly. Qeteb had pulled them into a different existence or dimension. Were their bodies still back in the room with Axis and Azhure? He glanced at his own body, tapping his hands together gently.
They felt insubstantial, and when DragonStar looked at Faraday, he saw that there was no depth behind her eyes.
“I have created for you a semblance of your forms,” a voice echoed about them, and all four looked about, instinctively bunching together.
“An apparition only,” the voice continued, and Goldman jerked up a hand to point down one of the corridors.
At the far end was an old, hunchbacked man dressed entirely in black. He had long strands of silver hair brushed over a balding scalp, and his face was cadaverous.
“And yet,” the man whispered, “were I to plunge this dagger—” he lifted a hand, and it held a gleaming, jagged edged knife in it, “—into any of your hearts, your true body would spurt blood and die.”
Before any of them could react, the horrible, wizened old man scuttled with the speed of an attacking spider down the corridor, the dagger raised high above his head.
Both Gwendylyr and Faraday gasped in horror, and DragonStar thrust them behind him. “Goldman,” he began, “get the girls away from—”
The old man vanished, and they were left with the sound of their own harsh breathing and the sad comfort of their fear.
“How do we get out of here?” Goldman said eventually. He turned slightly to look DragonStar in the face, and DragonStar was surprised by how quickly Goldman had managed to compose himself.
“We find a way,” DragonStar said.
“But don’t you want to know what Isfrael was doing here?” the old man’s voice said again. This time it came from high above them, and their heads jerked up.
There was a balcony running around the top third of the atrium, and the man was hanging by one hand from its railing, dangling into the space above their heads.
He still held the dagger threateningly in the other hand, and he swung to and fro, his legs bent, as if deciding which one to drop on first.
“Isfrael knows who will win,” the man said, “and has acted accordingly. I find I quite like the fellow. Especially after he gave me the secret to your eventual destruction.”
He let go, and dropped.
He fell directly towards Gwendylyr.
DragonStar grabbed at her arm, but Gwendylyr held her ground, staring as if totally unperturbed by the curled black shap
e hurtling towards her.
It hissed, and vanished the instant before it hit her, and only when it had gone did Gwendylyr allow herself to flinch.
Faraday took her hand, and pulled her close, but she spoke to DragonStar. “Do you think he is telling us the truth?”
Watch…a voice echoed through their minds, and the air rippled before them, and they saw Isfrael standing in the circle of stumps, talking to Qeteb. They could hear no words, but they saw him gesture emphatically towards Niah.
“Niah,” whispered DragonStar. “What is it about Niah?”
They saw the Demons gather about Qeteb…and then they saw Qeteb produce the wooden bowl.
Faraday gave a low cry, her free hand clasped to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
“Can he get to the Sacred Groves using that bowl?” DragonStar hissed at her, and Faraday nodded.
“With the Demons’ power behind him, yes!”
And then the vision gave truth to her words, for they saw Isfrael use the bowl, and then vanish.
The vision faded, but as it did so, there was a clunk on the floor before them, and there was the bowl.
Brimming with clotted blood.
The blood that will run through the Sacred Groves, whispered the voice in their minds.
Faraday let Gwendylyr go and lunged for the bowl, but it vanished the instant before she could grab it.
“DragonStar!” she said, standing up and turning about.
“We need to get out of here,” he said, and reached for their hands. “Get back to our—”
No.
The atrium and the doors and corridors rippled, and then vanished, and in the instant before they, too, vanished, DragonStar shouted: “It is an illusion! There is nothing to fear!”
There is everything to fear, fool.
Each felt the comfort of the others’ hands evaporate, and the four found themselves standing in individual corridors.
Each twisted around, trying to see from which direction the danger would come down the bland, pastel-walled hallways.