“And we have slipped the more easily back into its restrictions,” Azhure finished for him. “The other once-gods now tend to keep to themselves, hating their uselessness.”
“And now,” Zared said, looking at Axis, “you have a use once more. Get us out of here, Axis!” Zared’s voice rose, and he stepped three or four paces towards Axis. “Get us out of here! Leagh is up there somewhere,” he gestured impotently towards the sky, “and I need to be with her.”
“I will do what I can, Zared,” Axis said quietly, and stepped close enough to place a hand on his brother’s arm. “But we can do nothing—”
“Axis!” It was FreeFall, pointing to the sky.
Eight Lake Guardsmen and women were circling high above their heads, and one by one dropped lower towards the balcony.
WingRidge was the first to land. “StarMan,” he said, and saluted.
Axis’ heart gave a lurch at the title. It had been years—years!—since anyone had called him that…and to use such a tone of respect…
“Yes?” he said.
WingRidge waved an arm helplessly, and Axis felt despair wriggle its vicious way through his body. Nothing, then.
“Nothing,” WingRidge said.
“Nothing?” Azhure said.
WingRidge sighed as the other members of the Lake Guard unit settled about him. “We overflew all of Sanctuary that we could,” he said.
“But not all?” FreeFall queried.
“Then why are you back here?” Zared said.
WingRidge shot him an irritated glance. The groundwalkers always thought they knew everything!
“We are back because we have overflown all of Sanctuary that anyone possibly could even in an infinite number of years,” WingRidge said, turning so that he talked exclusively to Axis. At least this man had some patience!
WingRidge paused, gathering his thoughts, and trying to find the phrases he needed to explain what was almost unexplainable.
“If there were only twelve people who needed Sanctuary,” WingRidge finally said, his voice soft and reflective, “then Sanctuary would make itself big enough for twelve people. If twelve million needed Sanctuary, then it would make itself big enough for twelve million. We…we flew as far as we could…but we will never be able to reach Sanctuary’s limits, Axis, because—”
“Because Sanctuary simply keeps expanding itself as you fly towards its current limits,” Zared said. “It is merely being helpful, and expanding to fit the perceived need.”
WingRidge blinked, reassessing his previous ill-tempered thoughts regarding the man. “Yes. As we flew outwards, we could see Sanctuary expanding itself in the distance. New vistas kept expanding themselves. Continuously. The faster we flew, the faster the vistas unfolded before us. There is no end to Sanctuary, and no back wall. It’s too damn helpful and far too cursed accommodating!”
“Stars,” Axis said weakly. He turned away and walked a few steps, trying to sort out his thoughts. Very well, so there was no physical back door, but surely there must be something else they could do, something they could find…
“Axis!” he heard Azhure cry in a panicked voice, and he whipped about.
Everyone on the balcony had scattered, most diving for whatever cover chairs or balustrade could offer.
Axis lifted his head, and, in the next instant, instinctively flung himself to one side.
Something very large and black was tumbling out of the sky.
“Well,” said Urbeth, picking herself up off the gaudy turquoise-tiled floor of the balcony, “someone’s taste is absolutely awful.”
Behind her two other icebears were rolling into a sitting position, their faces scrunched up in scowls as they combed out bits of disarranged fur.
And behind the three bears sat a very disgruntled and immensely old woman, clutching a terracotta pot. She was mumbling something under her breath, and from what Axis could hear of it, he was rather relieved she wasn’t saying it louder.
Old women weren’t supposed to know such gutter oaths.
“Urbeth?” Azhure said weakly, rising to her feet. Katie rose with her, and for the first time in hours she was looking far more relaxed…almost cheerful. She stared at the pot the old woman was holding and, without further ado, let Azhure go and walked over to Ur, sinking down beside her.
Katie reached out a tentative hand and touched the pot, and her face broke into a sunny smile.
Ur stared at her, then relaxed and smiled herself. “What a pretty girlie,” she said. “Do you know if there is anywhere about here that a grumpy old lady could get a cup of tea?”
Zared and FreeFall together with the members of the Lake Guard had retreated to the palace wall, and were watching the proceedings carefully. Hands rested on weapons, but as Axis and Azhure did not seem too perturbed, they did nothing else.
Besides, Zared was sure the two icebears still irritably combing out their fur looked surprisingly familiar. Somehow.
“Urbeth,” Axis said, in a tone of voice that he was immensely relieved to hear was firm and strong. “What is going on? How did you get here? Who is that?” he said, pointing to Ur.
“Well,” Urbeth said politely, “could you tell me where ‘here’ actually is?”
Axis glanced at Azhure. She shrugged, and so Axis turned back to Urbeth. “Sanctuary.”
“Ah,” Urbeth said, and paced about, looking this way and that over the balcony. “Useless, useless Sanctuary. What are you still doing here? Looking about at the view?”
“We’ve been seeking a way out,” Axis said. “A back door, perhaps, as the front entrance is denied us. But…”
Urbeth heaved a great sigh and sat down. “Can no-one accomplish anything without my aid? Ah!”
She rolled her eyes.
“Can you help?” Azhure asked slowly.
Urbeth grinned, frightening and malicious. “That depends,” she said.
“Depends on what?” Axis said.
“On how you feel about a renewed acquaintance with the Skraelings,” Urbeth said.
Chapter 31
StarLaughter’s Astonishing Turnabout
“Talk,” DragonStar said. They were gathered in the lowest part of the basements of Star Finger. Here it was that Faraday had finally found the child whose cries had been haunting her dreams; here that Caelum and DragonStar had made their peace.
Now, it was slightly more crowded and far, far more uncomfortable.
StarLaughter and StarGrace had seated themselves in the centre of the chamber. StarLaughter’s scarlet robe was again carefully arranged to display it and her body to their best advantage. StarGrace had hunkered down on her haunches, a beautiful, sad, gloomy, ugly girl-woman, whose dark gown alternated between material and feathers, and whose hands were always slightly blurred as they shape-changed from claws to plump innocent fingers and back again.
So long used to the visage of the hawk, StarGrace was finding her old form uncomfortable.
About them were grouped DragonStar and his five witches, plus two wings of the Strike Force. The ethereal bodies of the Strike Force members, their vivid plumage undulled even in this dank cellar, drifted this way and that, creating a silvery jewelled backdrop to the central drama.
The rest of the Strike Force lined the corridors outside the basement.
“Talk about what?” StarLaughter said, widening her eyes disingenuously.
DragonStar gestured impatiently, and walked away a step or two. Faraday and Gwendylyr sat slightly to one side, supporting Leagh between them. Leagh still looked exhausted, but her face was calm, and she wore a light smile. Goldman and DareWing stood just behind them.
“StarLaughter,” DragonStar said, “you drifted for thousands of years with the Demons. Their revenge was your revenge. They were your friends.”
“They were yours once, too.”
“I do not trust you, StarLaughter.”
She laughed, a pretty, light sound. “And for that I cannot blame you! I was as much to blame for your horrific handl
ing by the Demons as they.”
DragonStar’s eyes shifted to StarGrace. And what was she doing here?
“The fact is,” StarLaughter continued, “StarGrace and myself have become somewhat disenchanted with the Demons.”
StarGrace shifted slightly, but said nothing.
“They promised us revenge—” StarLaughter hissed the word “revenge”, “—and yet what have they done? Nothing! They had WolfStar within their grasp, and let him slip away. I, as StarGrace and all the other Hawkchilds, have come back to Tencendor for only one purpose: to kill WolfStar.”
StarGrace suddenly spat, flinging her arms up as if they were wings.
Black material billowed out behind.
“We want him dead!” she said.
Gwendylyr caught Faraday’s eyes, and raised her eyebrows in an expression of wondrous distaste. Faraday inclined her head slightly, but immediately returned her attention to DragonStar and StarLaughter. What had DragonStar told her about StarLaughter? Not a great deal, when she thought about it.
Faraday narrowed her eyes.
“What StarGrace is trying to say,” StarLaughter said, rising in a sinuous movement, “is that while the Demons helped us as far as getting us back into Tencendor, they haven’t done much else. Well, not much else apart from completely destroy the land.”
“You must have known they were going to do that,” DragonStar said.
StarLaughter shrugged dismissively. “That’s as may be.”
She walked slowly in a circle about DragonStar, moving ever closer with each step. She shifted the material of her scarlet and gold robe slightly, pulling it closer against the curves of her body. She did not take her eyes from his face.
“Now it appears that the Demons have wandered off on their own crusade,” StarLaughter continued, “and forgotten entirely their promises to us. StarGrace and I admit some impatience.”
She pouted, then tilted her face to one side and smiled at DragonStar. “We are tired of the Demons,” she said, “and would rather concentrate on our own purpose. WolfStar.”
DragonStar stared at her, then looked down to StarGrace. “And you? And the other Hawkchilds?”
“We are being used to hunt you,” StarGrace said, and smiled. Unlike StarLaughter’s, her expression was utterly feral and malicious. “But we would rather hunt WolfStar!”
“Thus, we,” StarLaughter said, moving away a pace or two and airily waving a hand, “are prepared to do a deal. Help us find WolfStar and we will help you against the Demons. We all have a chance at succeeding if we work together.”
“How?” DragonStar said. “How will you help?”
StarGrace laughed, low and husky, and answered for them both. “By not telling the Demons where you and yours are, DragonStar SunSoar. Qeteb will use the Hawkchilds in the effort to hunt you down. We will soar and we will swoop, but, oh dear me, we will never find!”
“Do we have a deal?” StarLaughter said. “Do we? You give us WolfStar, and we aid you against the Demons.”
DragonStar stared at her, wondering what it was that she wasn’t telling him. These were explanations that he could accept…on the surface. But there was something else going on here that he could not yet discern, and that made him unsure.
He turned to look at his five witches. Well? he asked them.
DareWing, who had previously heard StarLaughter and StarGrace’s deal, nodded. Can we afford to refuse? We need every piece of aid offered us.
Gwendylyr and Faraday again exchanged glances. I don’t like her, Gwendylyr said in DragonStar’s mind, but does that mean we can’t trust her? DragonStar, you know these two. You decide.
DragonStar’s mouth twitched in a very small grin—who could ever know StarLaughter and StarGrace? Their inner minds and emotions were the end product of three thousand years of twisted hate, and their inner writhings could not be tracked by any observer who had not travelled the same three-thousand-year road with them.
Faraday? he asked.
She shrugged. Your decision.
Thank you very much, he replied, but without any rancour. Goldman?
He grinned, including StarLaughter and StarGrace in his smile. Surprisingly, StarGrace returned it, although StarLaughter looked surprised. I’m with DareWing, he said. We have little choice. Besides, they are an adventure, and I for one relish the chance to explore them further.
Just don’t let them bed you, DragonStar said, grinning himself. It’s murder.
Now Faraday did look at him sharply, the question all over her face, while Gwendylyr’s mouth dropped open.
DragonStar ignored them, squatting down before Leagh. Well?
She smiled, a very gentle and sweet expression. I think they are true…or, at least, true enough for us. If you think WolfStar’s sacrifice worth the bargain, then agree. Trust them as much as you dare, DragonStar.
DragonStar blinked, surprised more by Leagh’s inner calm and happiness than by what she’d said—what had happened to her since she’d fallen screaming to the floor earlier?—then nodded, and rose again.
“I think we have a bargain,” DragonStar said to the two birdwomen.
“Do you know where WolfStar is?” both asked in unison, both equally eagerly, and DragonStar narrowed his eyes.
StarLaughter and StarGrace had, at that moment, revealed completely different purposes: to him, if not to each other.
“Yes,” he said. “WolfStar is in Sanctuary.”
They ate from the remains of whatever dried food had been stored in the lower levels of Star Finger, and then DragonStar told his witches to lay down and rest.
“In the morning,” he said, “we will begin.”
Faraday curled up next to Leagh, pulling her cloak tight about them both, and DragonStar smiled cynically. He and Faraday were, it seemed, back to the coolness of their initial pilgrimage north to Gorkenfort and back to Carlon.
Goldman had cleared a space for him close to the fire that DareWing had built, but DragonStar shook his head.
“There is something else I need to do first,” he said, and turned away.
He looked around. StarGrace had left an hour earlier saying that she needed to return to her sky patrol before Qeteb and the other Demons reappeared, but StarLaughter was curled up in a thick woollen cloak against a far wall.
DragonStar walked over, and gently shook her shoulder.
StarLaughter opened one eye and peered irritably at him. “Yes?”
“We need to talk,” DragonStar said. “Now.”
“Then talk,” she murmured, closing her eye.
“Alone!” DragonStar said, and shook her harder.
Now StarLaughter opened both her eyes, and she grinned lasciviously. “So! I thought you would never ask!”
“Don’t play games with me!” DragonStar snapped, and grasped her arm tightly, hauling her upwards.
“You’re hurting!” StarLaughter said, and tried to wrench herself free.
But DragonStar was too strong. He pulled until she was on her feet, then gave her a none-too-gentle shove towards the door. “Outside.”
“Not all the way outside, I do hope,” StarLaughter muttered, but DragonStar did not speak, contenting himself with an impatient shove in the small of her back.
As they left the room, Faraday opened her eyes and stared at the empty door.
“Whatever my companions think,” DragonStar said as he pulled StarLaughter to a halt in a deserted part of the corridor several twists and turns away from the chamber, “I admit harbouring some doubts about the sincerity of your turnabout. Frankly, I find it astonishing.”
StarLaughter’s eyes darted about the corridor. It was deserted. The Strike Force were either at ground level to watch the sky, or were patrolling what was left of the complex, either to find if there was anything left that could prove serviceable to DragonStar or to search for any traps and surprises that StarLaughter and StarGrace may have planted.
She sighed theatrically. “You have discovered my secret.”
br /> “Oh, for the Stars’ sakes, woman! Stop performing these dramatic roles! What is it you really want here? You were lying back in that chamber, although StarGrace was not. What is going on?”
StarLaughter stared down the corridor, her eyes unfocused, silent for the time being.
DragonStar was content enough to let her think, although he still wondered if she was assuming a facade she believed would aid her cause.
“The Demons tricked me,” StarLaughter said eventually, quietly, still staring into infinity down the corridor, “and then they tired of me. They said they were going to restore my son to me, but all they did was make use of his—” her voice broke a little, “—dead flesh to create a haven for Qeteb’s warmth and breath and movement and soul. Having tricked me, they then tired of me.”
DragonStar hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder.
StarLaughter did not react. “I escaped, but only barely.”
“And?” DragonStar prompted as StarLaughter hesitated.
“And I began to think,” she said, “about myself and WolfStar.”
StarLaughter shifted slightly, bringing herself closer to DragonStar’s body.
“When we were husband and wife I loved him desperately, completely, with my entire being and purpose,” she said after a moment’s silence.
“And yet you plotted against him.”
She half-smiled, lost in her deluded memories. “We were so mutually ambitious, DragonStar. We could not help ourselves. We became cold and hard and calculating, and somewhere along the way the love was lost. I planned his murder; he accomplished mine instead. WolfStar was ever quick on his feet.”
“And now?” DragonStar said very softly. “And now?”
“And now I want him back,” StarLaughter said, “as he must want me.”