Crusader (21 page)

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 shape 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.

DragonStar stared, and then half-smiled. Two could play at this game. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and in the next moment two insubstantial hounds appeared at his side.

Sicarius and FortHeart.

“I have lost my comrades,” DragonStar said. “Hunt.”

The hounds scented the air, and then they bounded down the corridor, DragonStar close behind them, the lily sword in his hand.

He fought down his apprehension. Why hadn’t he found the time to tell the other three of what he’d learned about the Book?

But he had not had the time, and DragonStar knew he would have to find them before the Demons either killed them, or took control of their minds.

Faraday turned about, and found herself face to face with two Demons.

At least, that’s what she supposed they were, although they had taken the form of a broom and a rake.

Both were enormous, twice the size of any broom or rake Faraday had ever seen. Their handles were constructed of rough, splintery wood, three times the thickness of her wrist, and while the rake had teeth made from razor-like bear claws, the broom had bristles of nails.

Each had elongated eyes towards the top of their handles, and each had tiny, clawed hands protruding out just beneath their eyes.

“We’ve come to help you tend the field,” one of them whispered in a sing-song voice. “We’ve come to do our very, very best!”

They rushed towards her.

Faraday fought down her fear, and did not flinch. She reacted with pure instinct, as she had when confronted with the rat when trying to help the people of Carlon.

“Have you ever smelt the scent of the Field?” she asked pleasantly, and cast towards them every memory she could dredge up of the overwhelming fragrance of the billions of flowers.

The rake and broom screamed, and then crumpled.

“Bitch!” one of them said, and then vanished with its companion.

Faraday blinked her eyes, and then turned slightly to see Axis and Azhure leaning over her.

She twisted back to DragonStar’s form, and grasped his hands tighter.

“Come back!” she said. “Come back!”

DragonStar and his hounds found Gwendylyr in tears, hunched over the still forms of her twin boys.

“They are
not
what they appear to be,” he said, and, as he spoke, the boys rose, their faces taking on the likenesses of long-snouted dogs.

Sicarius and FortHeart snarled, stiff-legged.

DragonStar stared at the boys, perturbed more by the Demons’ ability to see inside their minds than by the apparitions they chose to weave about them.

How had they known about Gwendylyr’s boys?

The two demonic dogs grinned, and their entire bodies waggled and writhed, as if highly amused.

Then they quieted, and their fleshy lips drew back from their teeth. They snarled back at Sicarius and FortHeart, and the two hounds sidled forward a pace or two, stiff-legged.

“No!” DragonStar commanded, and the Alaunt stopped. FortHeart flicked her eyes his way, and in that instant the two Demons attacked.

Gwendylyr screamed, and DragonStar seized her by the shoulder and hauled her away from the twisting, snarling pack of savagery before her. She stumbled, almost fell, just saved herself, and shrank against a wall, her arms hugged tight about her, her face pale and wide-eyed as she stared at the dog fight.

DragonStar stepped close to the four dogs and tried to seize either Sicarius’ or FortHeart’s ruff to drag them back. Gods! He hadn’t wanted the two Alaunt to get involved in a one on one fight with the Demons! Apparition and illusion this all might be, but DragonStar did not doubt it when Qeteb said that any fatal wound delivered to any apparition would also deliver a fatal wound to the reality.

All DragonStar received for his efforts was a savage bite to his left hand.

In the chamber in Sanctuary, Axis, Azhure and Faraday stared in alarm at the deep wound that suddenly, unexplainably, appeared on DragonStar’s hand. Faraday seized a cloth from a nearby table, and wrapped it tightly about DragonStar’s limp hand, staunching the flow of blood.

“What is happening?” Azhure said, aiding Faraday to tie up the bandage.

“I do not know,” Faraday answered, her voice tight and hard with frustration.

The pack was a writhing, twisting and largely indistinguishable mass of heat and teeth and ferocity. Blood and sweat and pieces of fur scattered about as the four creatures within the pack wriggled and wormed, each trying to get the death grip on the throat of their opponent.

DragonStar hesitated on the outer, not knowing what he should do. Curse his stupidity for bringing the hounds into this nightmare—

A cascade of ice-cold water appeared from nowhere, drenching the dogs and soaking through DragonStar’s shirt and breeches.

“It is easy to see that none of
you
have had to deal with a dog fight in the streets of Carlon,” said a calm voice, and there was Goldman, standing to one side with his arms folded and a satisfied look on his face.

DragonStar nodded at him, relieved not only that Goldman was well and had managed to find them, but that he’d had the presence of mind (and enchantment) to do what was necessary.

The dogs had separated, Sicarius and FortHeart standing just in front of DragonStar, the two Demons several paces away. All were wounded: Sicarius carried several deep gashes on his flanks, while one of FortHeart’s ears hung almost completely severed and she limped badly on two of her legs.