Crusader (34 page)

“Ogden and Veremund,” Faraday said softly. “Cauldron Lake.”

“Yes—” DragonStar began, but was interrupted by Goldman.

“Are you trying to say that DareWing and I
are
Ogden and Veremund?”

“No. The Sentinels still exist, but are far distant, drifting among the stars. What you are is simply another aspect of the Enemy’s plan that the Sentinels once represented.”

“And I…I represent Yr,” Faraday said, her eyes far distant.

DragonStar smiled at her, and she did not look away, or frown. “Yes. At Grail Lake.”

Now she shuddered, and averted her eyes. “The Maze.”

“I am sorry, “ DragonStar said. “But at least I will meet up with you there.”

“You will meet Qeteb in the Maze?”

DragonStar nodded. “The final hunt
must
be conducted within the Maze.”

“And which Demon must I meet?” Faraday asked.

“Sheol. Despair.”

Faraday’s eyes widened. She, who always despaired of her own future, must
confront
despair?

DragonStar held her eyes, and eventually Faraday nodded. “Very well, I will meet Sheol at Grail Lake.” Mother, how would she manage this task!

And at the Maze, she would also be close to Qeteb, for Qeteb would surely gravitate there in order to meet DragonStar.

Close to Qeteb. Close enough to be snatched.

Faraday shuddered again, and lowered her face into her hands.

DragonStar pitied her, but could not comfort her now. Time was too short, too precious.

“And I?” Leagh asked.

“You,” DragonStar smiled, a beautiful, loving gesture, “carry life within you. You
are
life, and so your place will be Fernbrake Lake, the Mother of all Life. You represent Jack, for you share the same strength and determination. At Fernbrake you will meet the Rox-Niah.”

“Why?” Leagh’s face showed no fear, no denial, only acceptance and courage.

“I cannot put my knowledge into words,” DragonStar said. “I can only say that this is where, and this is the Demon, that you
must
meet.”

She nodded.

“Gwendylyr,” DragonStar said, and took her hand.

“There is not much left for me, is there?” she said, and her face was as determined as Leagh’s. DragonStar thanked every star in existence for the strength and trust of these five.

He glanced at Faraday. Of them all, she was both the weakest and the strongest link.

“I represent Zeherah, and I will meet Raspu, Demon of Pestilence, at the Lake of Life,” Gwendylyr said.

“Yes.”

DragonStar looked down at his hands, hesitating before he told them of what was at stake, resting on their success. That he
had
to tell them, DragonStar had no doubt, but he also had no doubt of the frightful pressure the knowledge would place on every one of them.

“DragonStar?” Faraday, concerned and frightened, because knowing him as well as she did she knew he was concealing something.

DragonStar raised his face. “There is more,” he said quietly. “Whether or not you are successful will directly affect whether or not I can defeat Qeteb.”

As his witches watched, their eyes riveted on DragonStar’s face, he explained the “legal niceties” of their confrontations.

“Thus,” he finished, “if three or more of you fail—”

“Then
you
must inevitably fail,” Goldman said, “for the balance will have tipped irretrievably in Qeteb’s favour.”

DragonStar nodded, watching the pale faces before him, more concerned about how the knowledge would affect them than whether or not they could succeed.

“Then,” Goldman said, “we will do our best for you.”

“DragonStar,” Leagh said. “How
do
we confront these Demons? They are so powerful…and we…”

DragonStar managed a smile for her, but included all five in his response. “Qeteb is so confident of his overall victory he has ‘magnanimously’ given us the choice of weapons and place—”

“I know nothing of weapons!” Leagh cried, sounding suddenly panicky, and DragonStar spoke quickly to reassure her.

“These confrontations will have no need of lances or pikes, Leagh. We will, I think, employ a little trickery, along with a touch of love, and we are going to employ some information that StarLaughter gave me in order to choose our ‘weapons’.”

“What do you mean?” Goldman said.

“Listen,” DragonStar said, and he spoke low and intensely for a very long time.

Both the frigid night air and time itself had closed in about Spiredore. Demons ringed it, whispering and shrieking of death, but Spiredore was made of stronger stuff than Sigholt had been, and it caused the Demons even greater angst.

Here again Roxiah stood with its head thrown back and arms and legs spread wide, bringing to bear all the power of the Enemy that it could upon the obstinate tower.

But Spiredore was holding out: grimly, painfully, and using every last bit of strength and resistance it had.

Spiredore had one more task to do, and it prayed and begged that it could do it soon.

DragonStar looked up as he finished, his face ashen. “We have almost no time!”

“What is happening,” DareWing said.

“The Demons are laying siege to Spiredore, trying to destroy it…and you need to use its power to transport yourselves to—”

“Gods!” DareWing and Goldman rose as one, the women not far behind them.

“DragonStar,” Faraday said, taking his arm. “Leagh…I am so concerned for her…she is not far away from birth, and—”

He stopped her words with a finger to her lip. “Leagh is a strong and determined women—and weren’t you, when you planted out Minstrelsea while carrying Isfrael? Faraday, I can watch over her.”

Faraday nodded, accepting, although she did not like the situation, nor envy Leagh her aloneness with whatever she met at Ferabrake Lake.

No
, DragonStar whispered in her mind.
Faraday, be still, and trust and believe in Leagh.

Again she nodded, and, as did Gwendylyr, Leagh and Goldman, withdrew her folded doorway from a pocket in her robe.

“The Strike Force?” DareWing said.

“I will command them for the moment,” DragonStar said. “They are mobile enough without Spiredore.”

“And you?” Goldman asked. “How will you travel about once Spiredore is gone?”

DragonStar grinned. “I have my Star Stallion,” he replied, “and he is as effective as Spiredore for travelling about Tencendor itself…and less vulnerable.”

The worried look reappeared over his face. “Quick! Quick!”

Then DragonStar turned his head to one side and gave a piercing whistle.

The feathered lizard bounded out from the pack of Alaunt, grinning from ear to ear as if it had been summoned for a game of hide and chase.

Goldman and DareWing looked at him, and smiled.

“Share!” Qeteb whispered in Roxiah’s ear. “Share the Enemy’s power with me, and together we can tumble this tower to the ground!”

He rested a splayed, hammer-fingered hand on Roxiah’s belly, and pressed.

Roxiah considered this request. It knew it was a good idea so far as demolishing Spiredore was concerned, but to share this new-found power with Qeteb? What if Qeteb did not want to give it back?

“Share!” Qeteb whispered, and dug his fingers in a little.

Roxiah trembled and, fearing for the life in its womb, shared.

Qeteb shuddered as the strange power thudded through him, then he leaned his head back and laughed.

“Spiredore! I have you!”

“Quick! Quick!” DragonStar almost pushed the other five towards the glowing doors. “Fast!”

DareWing and Goldman stepped through, the lizard bounding after them, and their doorway folded closed.

Then Gwendylyr stepped into her door, having given Leagh a fierce hug and a kiss goodbye.

Then Leagh picked up her skirts and stepped through her door, DragonStar watching and wishing her luck silently.

He turned to Faraday. “I wish you would trust me,” he said.

She blinked back tears, then stepped forward and hugged him. “I love you,” she said, her head against his chest, “but I find it hard to forget the past. DragonStar, please, do not abandon me in the Maze!”

He tilted her chin up with a finger, then leaned down and kissed her.

“Go with my love, and my promise that I will
never
let Tencendor claim you as sacrifice again.”

She trembled. “Katie…”

“I will watch over Katie, and you will surely see her again.”

“Keep her safe,” Faraday said, but at that DragonStar lifted his head and avoided her eyes.

“There must always be some pain, mustn’t there,” Faraday said, her voice bitter, and she drew back from DragonStar.

“Go,” he said sadly. “Go.”

And she was gone.

For a moment DragonStar stood, gazing into the emptiness where once had been friends and lovers and glowing doors.

Then he turned and walked out of the chamber, his footfalls echoing about the dank walls for a long time after he had gone.

Qeteb could not believe his good fortune. He’d entered Spiredore in order to wreak destruction within—and had encountered DragonStar’s five witches!

They were not all together, moving around different portions of the complex, but Qeteb knew that if he could pull Spiredore down about their ears, and kill them all
now
, before even they met his companions, then DragonStar could do nothing against him.

Nothing. The matter could be settled here and now.

Qeteb smiled, pure evil, then closed his eyes and tilted his head back, combining his power with that of Roxiah still outside.

“Tumble down,” he whispered, “tumble down, you masonried piece of shit…”

And matter shifted within the tower.

DareWing and Goldman, preparing to exit through the blue-misted tunnel that Spiredore had opened for them, both fell to their knees several paces away from the tunnel.

“Get up!” DareWing screamed, and physically lifted Goldman by an elbow.

The lizard made sure DareWing had a secure hold on Goldman, then he scrambled down the tunnel to safety.

The birdman’s wings beat frantically, for they were never meant to carry the weight of another grown man, but DareWing managed to fly down the tunnel. He bounced off walls as his own wings threatened to fail him and Spiredore screamed in its death throes about him, but he eventually dragged Goldman to the other end.

They fell through blue mist into a forest of sharp and angry crystal.

Tumble down, you piece of Enemy excreta
. Qeteb’s power expanded, thriving on the chaos about him.

Faraday cried out, and clutched at a balcony railing. She fell to her knees so heavily she knocked the breath from her chest.

A movement far below caught her eye, and she saw Gwendylyr, crawling up some stairs on her hands and knees. “Fast!”

Faraday shouted down to her, and Gwendylyr nodded slightly and crawled towards the tunnel that was opening before her.

Spiredore opened a tunnel for Faraday as well, but both women cried out in horror because, just as the tunnels
formed, they fell apart, shattered by Qeteb’s death grip on Spiredore.

“Spiredore!” Faraday cried, finally managing to rise to her knees. “Do this for Azhure! Please! Be strong for Azhure!”

Azhure?
The name rippled through the tower, and just for a moment Spiredore fought back, hard enough to give Qeteb pause, and long enough to reform both tunnels again.

Neither Faraday nor Gwendylyr wasted time. They literally clambered to their feet, picked up their skirts, and fled down the tunnels as fast as they could go.

Leagh was not so lucky.

Of them all, she was the one on the lowest stairs of the tower. Spiredore trembled violently when it lost concentration, will and power once Faraday and Gwendylyr had passed through, and Leagh was flung down a series of stairs until, horribly, horrifically, she rolled to the feet of Qeteb himself.

“Well, well,” Qeteb said, “what a pretty lady.”

Leagh rolled away as far as she could, but she was hurt and winded and terrified beyond measure, and she feared that she, and her baby, were dead.

Oh, DragonStar! I couldn’t even reach Fernbrake Lake for you!

Qeteb reached down enlarging hands—

What was that strange smell? It seemed to be emanating from the woman…no! It was rising as a smoke from around her figure!

Qeteb’s hands halted, and an expression of utter surprise came over his face.

It was the heady scent of a field of lilies.

“No,” he whispered, and reached out for the woman again.

Leagh backed away on hands and buttocks, trying desperately to get out of his reach, yet knowing it was impossible.

Qeteb grinned, shunting the scent to one side—a field of flowers was not going to stop him!—and reached out hands that had turned into talons.

The woman was as good as dead. He could take one, at least—

Suddenly Qeteb screamed, for it felt as though fire had enveloped his feet.

He looked down. There was a ball of light enveloping his lower legs, a light with no discernible form, but with what certainly felt like terrible teeth.

And it smelt. Horribly. Like crushed lilies.

Behind Leagh, Spiredore roused itself one last time, one last desperate time, and a tunnel of blue mist formed.

Get you gone, girl!

Leagh was still terrified by Qeteb, even though something had distracted him for the moment, but she managed—infinitely slowly—to turn her head and look behind her.

Whimpering, hardly able to believe that she would be able to make it, she turned over onto her hands and knees and scrambled as fast as her cumbersome figure would allow her towards the end of the tunnel.

Qeteb paid her no notice. He was directing all his power down to the light…more…more…now! that had the thing! Qeteb scampered about until he’d managed to get both legs free of the mass of white light. Just as he thought he’d succeeded, the light surged forward, concentrating its burning fury on Qeteb’s left foot. Roaring, he drew his leg back, then kicked it forward, trying to finally dislodge the irritating piece of—