Authors: Sara Douglass
“Why?”
“Faraday,” Drago said, as gently as he could. “The Icarii are not the only ones who will need the comfort of Sanctuary, and whatever Acharites are left will have a hard journey from Carlon. We
will
need to aid them.”
“Yes. Of course…I’m sorry. StarDrifter? Will you talk with Zenith?” Faraday asked.
StarDrifter nodded, but looked puzzled. “About what?”
“About how much you love her, and what you would do for that love.”
StarDrifter nodded again, but frowned a little. He inclined his head at Drago, and then walked past Faraday towards Sanctuary. Drago watched him go, then gave a sharp whistle. Almost instantly the hounds, cats and the feathered lizard bounded out of the grass.
Drago grinned at them, rubbing heads and patting flanks as they crowded about him, and then he looked at Faraday. He unslung the Wolven from his shoulder, as also the quiver of arrows.
“Will you take these? I am overburdened enough.”
“Me?” Faraday kept her hands at her side, refusing to take the Wolven and quiver. She wasn’t quite sure why she hesitated, but wondered if even the act of accepting something from Drago’s hands might be construed as acknowledging a bond between them.
“Faraday, please. They will not bite.”
Slowly she reached out and took them, handling them as gingerly as if she thought they might explode in her hands. At Drago’s urgings, she eventually slung the bow and quiver over her shoulder.
“Good,” Drago said, and held out his hand.
Faraday tensed, thinking he meant her to take it, but in the next instant he’d sketched a symbol in the air, and the far end of the bridge from Sanctuary dissolved into a blue-misted tunnel that led to the interior of a many-staired and balconied tower.
Faraday relaxed slightly, then she and Katie followed Drago into Spiredore.
Perhaps it understood the urgency of the matter, for Spiredore did not take long to transfer them to its outer door that led to the edge of Grail Lake. Three turns of a spiral staircase and they were there, the hounds, cats and feathered lizard close behind.
Drago pushed open the door and stepped outside. Then he halted, transfixed with horror as Faraday, Katie and sundry animals bumped into him.
The far shores of Grail Lake were dense with hundreds of thousands of animals—horses, cattle, feral creatures, birds of every variety—and wild-eyed humans, all milling about the walls of Carlon.
Even from the far side of the Lake Drago and Faraday could hear them howling and mewling and screaming. One of the cats, crouched low at Drago’s feet, growled at the cacophony of sound drifting over the Lake.
Faraday’s face went ashen, and she put a hand to her mouth. Drago leaned around to gather Faraday and the girl tight against him. Appalled and grief-stricken by the sight before her, Faraday did not object.
Katie merely studied the scene expressionlessly.
It was mid-afternoon, and the grey miasma of despair was settled upon the land. Drago and Faraday had grown so used to their immunity, as that of the hounds and, apparently the cats, that it completely escaped them that Katie seemed unaffected as well.
In her, the power and magic of the Star Dance surged more powerfully than it did in the vast unfettered spaces of the universe, simply because it was concentrated into a vastly smaller space.
Inside her tiny body, Katie had enough power to ravage the entire land into a blackened, smoking waste, should she put a mind to it.
Katie grinned.
T
heod rode as if in a dream. Time passed him by unnoticed, and landscape and sun and night melded into one unknowable blur.
All he was aware of was the feel of the stallion’s silken coat and powerful muscles beneath him, and the cold fire of the stars that foamed about his hands where they gripped within the mane.
All Theod thought about was Gwendylyr and his sons. Gone. Had he failed them? Should he have done something different?
Was she still somehow alive?
No. The existence she currently enjoyed could in no way be called “life”, but while her heart still beat, there was hope, surely.
Surely.
Somewhere there had to be hope!
He had to ride south, meet Zared who must be on his way north with his army by now, and go back and get her…and save the other groups crawling slowly, innocently, towards that horrid cave and all the beady eyes awaiting in its depths.
But Theod never met Zared coming north.
“Where are you?” he screamed one day into the blur that swept by him, but no-one answered, and the stallion’s gait
did not falter. They sped south through days that folded inexorably from sunlight to night to sunlight again.
“Norden? Norden? Sir?
Wake up!
”
Norden mumbled and opened his eyes, irritated that Greman had woken him before his watch was due to start. What in the world could—
“
Wake up, sir!
”
The panic in Greman’s voice woke Norden as nothing else could. The captain of the northern wall watch struggled to his feet, cursing the lingering lethargy and stiffness of sleep, and moved to where Greman stood by the parapets.
He was staring at something beyond the wall.
Now
that
Norden could understand. The tens of thousands of cursed creatures were wailing and moaning with even more virulence than usual, but their cacophony in itself was nothing to be remarked on.
Were they preparing to attack?
Norden leaned on the stone blocks of the parapet, trying to see what it was that had disturbed Greman.
“There, sir, directly north. Do you see?”
Greman narrowed his eyes against the cold wind, ignoring the mass of creatures seething at the base of the walls for the moment.
“I—” he began, then concentrated. There was something…something…pale…
Beside him, Greman visibly relaxed. “It’s a horse and rider, sir!”
Norden grunted, not wanting to concede that Greman’s younger eyes were clearer than his.
“Perhaps,” he said. “And if it is, then who would be so stupid as to ride straight for this psychotic circus below us?”
He blinked, and this time he, too, could see that it was a horse and rider. A white horse, with a peculiarly brilliant mane and tail, and a rider.
“Gods, but look how fast they’re coming!” Norden said, and before he could add any more, or even think about informing someone of this peculiar event, the animals below roared into full-voiced fury.
Both guards instinctively dropped below the level of the parapet.
“Gods!” Norden whispered again, and carefully peered over the stone ledge.
What he saw this time stunned him.
The animals—while not abandoning the walls—had nevertheless turned to meet whatever it was that ran toward them. They were screaming with such vigour that Norden could actually see one or two convulsing with the strength of their hate.
The horse and rider were now very close, within only twenty or thirty paces of the outer ranks of the animals. Norden’s throat went dry…they would be torn to pieces! But even as he thought that, the white horse had closed the distance between it and the animals, and plunged into the first ranks that leapt to meet it.
Norden thought the horse and rider would be overwhelmed instantly, but suddenly creatures screamed and smoke rose from either side of the horse.
Norden blinked, then decided he
was
seeing true.
Tiny stars were falling from the horse’s mane, burning a path through the now-frantic animals. The stallion—
the Star Stallion
—cantered through the crowd as though it paraded along a processional boulevard, the man atop him swinging somewhat uselessly to either side with his sword.
The creatures had backed several paces away from the horse, still snarling and howling, but terrified of the horse’s magic.
“Open the gates,” Norden whispered, then recovered his voice and roared down the ladder. “
Open the gates!
”
As the guards leaned to the bolts, Norden scrambled to his feet and headed for the ladder, sliding to the ground in three
heartbeats. Turning from the ladder, he heard the horse leap through the gates, and then the thunder as the guards slammed them shut against the first of the creatures leaping after the horse.
But Norden had no eye for anything save the wondrous Star Stallion and his rider.
A man—it was the Duke of Aldeni!—slid off the stallion’s back, and the horse reared, screamed…and disappeared.
The Duke saw Norden standing gaping, and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Get me to the King.
Now!
”
Norden stared at Theod’s haggard face, then moved hastily to obey.
Earl Herme rose slowly, unbelievingly, from his chair outside Leagh’s chamber as he saw Theod and an officer of the watch approach. “Theod? My friend…what do you here?”
“I come wondering why Zared did not bother to ride to my aid. Where is he? Where is the carrion-cursed—”
“We have had no word, Theod.” Zared emerged from the door, closing it softly behind him. “Nothing. No farflight scouts. No ships. We thought…”
He stopped, staring appalled at Theod’s face. “
What has happened?
”
“No-one got through?” Theod whispered. “Not
one
of the farflight scouts got through? Oh,
gods
!”
He sat and drank, glass after glass of the best Romsdale gold, and neither Zared nor Herme stopped him.
They listened to his extraordinary tale, and shared doubts in silent glances over Theod’s bowed head. If all others had perished, then how was it Theod had got through?
How had he made it south safely through unprotected territory…unshaded territory?
How had he come so swiftly
?
How had he got through the cordon about Carlon’s walls?
Was he mad with grief…or mad with Demonic delight?
Was he another Askam?
Zared’s hand slipped about the knife in his belt, and saw Herme’s silent nod.
“Sire?”
Zared’s head jerked about. He’d forgotten Norden’s presence.
“Sire,” Norden said. “I saw him, and this horse. I cannot vouch for the earlier part of his tale, but of this magical horse I can say he speaks truth. And over a dozen of the watch on the northern wall will say the same thing.”
“And where is this magical horse now?” Herme said.
“Gone, sir Earl. He vanished before our eyes.”
Zared glanced again at Herme, and saw that doubts remained. Had they
all
been infected?
His hand tightened about his knife.
“How can we get across?” Faraday said. “Look at the water!”
The waters of Grail Lake were simmering. Great bubbles slowly broke across the surface.
Faraday jerked, and pressed closer to Drago in horror. A huge slimy tail rose lazily in the air above the water, then slammed down again.
The water was not boiling, it was full of…of…
“Eels,” Drago said. “Grown to gigantic proportions under the Demons’ careful nurturing.”
The water roiled, and several heads appeared. Fully five paces long and two wide, the eels had yawning mouths filled with razored, yellowing fangs. One of them had the remains of a cloak caught between its teeth, and as Faraday watched a neatly severed human leg dropped from the folds of the cloth and splashed into the water.
All three eels instantly lunged back into the water, fighting over the delicacy.
“There’s a boat tied to the pier,” Drago said, apparently unconcerned by what he’d just witnessed. “And large enough for our variety of furred and feathered companions as well.”
Faraday pulled away from him. “No!” She hugged Katie tight to her, and buried the girl’s head protectively in the folds of her skirts. Katie twisted her head about slightly to gaze quietly at Drago.
“We will never get across alive!” Faraday said. “Do you want to kill this sweet child before she has a chance to live?”
Katie now twisted her face about so she could look at Faraday.
“Faraday—” Drago began.
“
No
!”
“Faraday,” Drago’s voice became firmer. “Trust me. We can get across.”
Faraday stared at him, her eyes panicked. She could not believe that Drago was prepared to risk the live of Katie with such equanimity.
A movement to their right broke the stand-off. It was the feathered lizard—now, Faraday observed, far larger than any of the hounds—climbing carefully into the boat. It settled itself at the prow and began to preen, totally ignoring the glistening hump of an eel that had surfaced four or five paces out into the Lake.
Sicarius, FortHeart as ever at his shoulder, leapt in after the lizard, and the next moment the boat rocked as the remaining Alaunt and the cats all leapt in at the same time. The lizard raised its head, its emerald and scarlet crest flaring, and hissed irritably at them.
There were three spaces left clear on the benches.
“Trust me!” Drago said, and held out his hand.
Faraday stared at him, then at the boat packed with sundry animals, then back at Drago.
She swallowed.
Drago gave a small smile. “Faraday, the worst that can
happen is a rapid annihilation, and the best is an exhilarating ride. Will you risk it?”
His hand waggled a bit.
Faraday lowered her eyes, and made as if to speak to Katie, but the girl pulled free from her and ran to the boat, climbing in.
“Katie!” Faraday cried.
“I think,” Drago said, “that you have been outvoted. If you do not wish to risk the journey, I can always leave you here. No doubt Spiredore will keep you safe and warm.”
Faraday’s cheeks reddened, and she marched stiff-backed past Drago and climbed into the boat.
His smile gone, Drago unmoored the boat and pushed it out into the water as he jumped in. He settled down in the remaining space, placed the staff carefully under the bench, unshipped the oars, and rowed strongly for the opposite shoreline.
Instantly the water came to life about them.
An eel reared out of the water, its huge head blocking out the sun, and lunged down at one of the Alaunt.
But in the instant before it seized the hound in its fangs, its head fell off, glancing off the side of the boat into the water.
The boat swung wildly, not only from the blow struck by the falling eel’s head, but also because a half-dozen other eels began fighting over the head and body of their fellow.
Gripping her seat tightly with one hand, and Katie as tightly with the other, Faraday stared wildly about, trying to see from what direction the next inevitable attack would come from.
“How…what happened?” she gasped.
“Watch,” Drago said, and pointed behind her.
Faraday twisted about, desperately trying to keep her balance, and saw that the lizard was sitting alertly in the prow. Another eel reared just to her right, and Faraday flinched, but not before she saw a shaft of brilliant light sear through the eel’s head, sending it tumbling back into the water.
Again an eel reared out of the water, and this time Faraday saw exactly what happened. The lizard raised one of its claws and arced it through the air in a great cutting motion. As it did so, its diamond talons flared with light, and the beam flashed through the space between lizard and eel cutting off the monster’s head.
Faraday looked back to Drago, absolutely astounded. “I had no idea it could do that,” she whispered.
“I told you to trust me,” he said, and his face relaxed into a wide grin.
Even Faraday could not resist that smile. Her mouth twisted, twitched, and then her resistance crumbled and she smiled. Katie clapped her hands delightedly, and the lizard joined in the fun by slicing off two eels’ heads with a single flashing arc of light.
It was the last they were troubled by the eels. Whether the other eels had learned from the fate of their companions, or they were too busy feasting on the remains of those others, the boat sailed serenely across to the other side of Grail Lake.
As they neared the section of the city walls that rose directly from the waters, Drago lifted the oars from the water and let the boat slow to a glide.
“Carlon is ringed thirty deep with the Demons’ minions. We could fight our way through—I am sure the lizard would prove more than useful—but I would prefer to arrive in a slightly more anonymous manner. I remember stories of the night my father bested Borneheld in this place. Did he not enter through a postern gate somewhere close to the water’s edge?”
“Yes.” Faraday did not particularly want to remember those eight days spent in the lie of Axis’ arms, but she could not avoid it. First Gorkenfort and memories of Borneheld, and now Carlon and the shade of Axis’ betrayal. What was Drago doing, dragging her to every site in Tencendor bound to stir up unwanted and painful memories?
“Yes?” Drago prompted.
“Ah.” Faraday shook herself out of her train of thought. “Yes, Axis told me about it, as did Rivkah and Yr. It should be…” she twisted about so she could see the approaching sheer wall, “…it should be just beyond that corner there, tucked into an alcove that lies deep under a rounded tower. Yes. There!”
Drago leaned back into the oars, and the boat swung close to the tower. Five paces away he shipped the oars securely, and clambered forward to the prow, pushing aside sundry hounds and cats as he did so. A chorus of indignant grunts and yowls followed his pathway.
Once at the prow, Drago leaned over the form of the lizard, who had curled up and was watching proceedings carefully with one of its light-absorbing black eyes, and caught the iron ring by the door, tying the boat up with swift, sure movements.