Sinner (32 page)

He threw a furious look at WolfStar. “Is this your mad, bad blood outing itself, renegade? Is this your virulent inheritance tearing apart my family and my land? Did I fight for
nothing
? Did –”

“I have had nothing to do with either the Demons or with Drago’s actions!” WolfStar cried. “I will tear him apart myself should I meet him before you!” He gained some control of himself and lowered his tone. “Believe me, Axis, all I
ever
wanted was the best for this land. For Tencendor.”

“Again, enough,” Adamon said. “WolfStar, all about this fire can see what these Demons do to the stars. There
is a wake of such sadness behind them that I wonder what they will do to Tencendor if they manage to come through the Star Gate.”

“Without Qeteb they will wrap this land and its peoples in disease, starvation, storms, depair and terror such as it has never seen before, not even under Gorgrael.
With
Qeteb to lead them, the TimeKeeper Demons will turn Tencendor into a dark wasteland, all its people slaves – automatons – to their whims. And, as Axis said, without the power of the Star Dance behind us, none of us can stop them.”

“
None
of us?” Axis asked, once again in control of himself. “Then is there nothing that can be done to counter them? Did these ancient ones, the Demons’ ‘Enemy’, leave us any means by which to protect ourselves against the cargo they left among us?”

WolfStar nodded. “In a manner, yes. Each site is protected by a series of measures against the Demons returning to recover Qeteb’s life parts. The site under Grail Lake is the most heavily protected of all, for it is there that Qeteb’s soul is buried. In a cavern beneath the lake lies a Maze – an extension of the craft that has grown there during the thousands of years since it crashed.”

“Grown? Grown?” Azhure said. “Explain.”

WolfStar was silent for a while, trying to find a way to convey what these craft actually were. “I do not understand them completely, Azhure. All I can say is that these craft are not dead, but neither are they alive. They are aware of the world and of the circumstances about them. Let me explain. In this cavern under Grail Lake lies the Maze. It protects Qeteb’s soul and is, in its own way, highly magical. A massive gate protects the entranceway to the Maze. About this gate is a stone arch, and on this arch are characters that explain what measures can be
taken against Qeteb. For aeons the gate made only vague mention of a champion it referred to as the Crusader. Then, forty years ago, the gate
named
the champion.”

“Who?” Adamon asked.

Everyone save WolfStar looked at Axis.

“Caelum,” WolfStar said.

“
Caelum?
” Axis said. “But surely
I
would be better –”

“No, Axis,” WolfStar said firmly. “The Maze clearly states that Caelum StarSon is the one who can best protect Tencendor. StarSon, it says. Ah.” His entire face softened. “It knew even before you proclaimed Caelum your heir and gave him the title StarSon outside Tencendor. Axis, Azhure,
you
have bred the champion.”

“WolfStar,” Axis asked very softly as horrid realisation hit him, “was it the Maze which taught you the Prophecy?”

“Yes.”

Axis found it difficult to ask the next question. “Are you telling us that the Prophecy was a manipulation designed primarily to breed the Maze its champion?”

“Yes.
And
to create the circumstances and environment that would shape him into the Crusader the Maze wanted.”

Axis stared at WolfStar, appalled. Had he and Azhure fought through so much only to provide the Maze with suitable breeding stock?

“There is always a deeper purpose to every life,” Adamon said softly. “And to breed a son like Caelum is a purpose worthy enough, surely.”

“But we have also bred the traitor to undermine his chances,” Azhure said bitterly. She remembered the Beltide night when she and Axis conceived Caelum. She remembered how she’d been caught up in a magic far more powerful than herself. Had the Maze been there, twisting and manipulating? Had they had no free will
that night? “Why would Drago have done such a thing?
Why?
”

“He had been sentenced to death,” Pors said emotionlessly. “He chose the best means he could to save himself.”

“I do not care what should have been done about Drago in the past,” Adamon said, “or what mistakes were made in his upbringing. What we all need to do now is to consider how best to cope should these Demons come through the Star Gate.”

“We must help Caelum,” Azhure said. “Train him as best we can. Axis, surely you would be best for that.”

“As I,” WolfStar put in, and stared at Axis.

Axis conceded. “As all of us. I do not know how well Caelum will cope…he has had so little experience…”

“There is one thing more I should tell you,” WolfStar said. “One more thing that Caelum will need to use against Qeteb.”

“Yes?” Adamon asked.

“The Rainbow Sceptre. The Maze clearly connects the StarSon with the Sceptre. Again and again the symbols for the StarSon and the Sceptre are intertwined, made as if they are one. No doubt Caelum must wield the Sceptre to drive back the TimeKeeper Demons, or to defeat Qeteb should he be reconstituted.”

Axis laughed harshly. “Well, then, why don’t we just prepare a greeting party with wine and food at the Star Gate? Drago has betrayed his brother and Tencendor with consummate skill. We are doomed.”

WolfStar shrugged a little. “Axis, we need to train Caelum, and he needs the Rainbow Sceptre.”

“Oh?” Adamon said. “Do you suggest that we go through the Star Gate after it? None of us,” he waved at the other Star Gods, “can do it, for we are so peculiarly tied to this world. Who else…you?”

WolfStar shuddered. “No, not me. Our only chance to regain it is when the Demons come through the Star Gate –
if
the Demons bring it back with them.”

“We wait until they are
here?
” Axis said.

WolfStar nodded. “If we cannot stop them beforehand, then that is the only option left to us. And then to find some means to snatch it back. I’m sorry. It’s all we can do.”

“But how can we combat them for the Sceptre?” Azhure cried, despair all over her face. “By the time the TimeKeeper Demons are here they will have completely blocked out the Star Dance. We will be as ants before their power! And Caelum? What chance has he against these Demons with all his power gone? I can’t see –”

“Azhure, my dear, be calm,” WolfStar said gently. “We will get the Sceptre back for Caelum. By whatever means we can.”

F
araday paused at the door to Niah’s room, listened, then pushed it open. She moved wrapped in an aura of dream, so she made no sound, and she was virtually indistinguishable from the shadows. Every day Faraday found different uses for her newly enriched power, and this current trick was a most useful accomplishment.

The room was dark, filled only with the sound of sleep. Faraday stood a while, catching her bearings, learning the layout of the room, memorising the patterns of the bed, chests, hanging robes and mirrors.

Then she moved silently towards the bed.

Niah lay there. Alone. Faraday had more than expected to find WolfStar here tangled with her, their bodies a mass of damp flesh and twisted feathers. But WolfStar had abandoned his lover for this night. No matter. Faraday could act whether WolfStar was here or not.

She sat on a stool by the bed and watched Niah sleep. The woman slept awkwardly, not sure what to do with
her wings. They hung to either side of the bed, drifting across the floor, Niah’s naked body pale and vulnerable in the faint moonlight. Waiting, perhaps, in case WolfStar found the time to visit.

Faraday’s eyes rested on Niah’s belly. There was only the faintest suggestion of a roundness there – it was far too early in the pregnancy for any noticeable swelling yet. Faraday leaned forward, and placed both her hands on Niah’s belly.

The woman stirred, and Faraday whispered soothingly to her, quieting her, sending her deeper into sleep.

Once Niah had stilled, her breathing now so quiet and slow Faraday knew she was lost in her dreams again, she began to knead her fingers into Niah’s belly. Probing. Deep. Looking, sensing, for the baby.

There. The slight hardness of the thickened walls of her womb. All depended on…yes! Faraday sensed the life force growing there. A girl child. Good. Very good.

“What a lovely baby,” she whispered. “So healthy. Such a willing receptacle.”

Then she lifted her hands from Niah’s body and sat back. She opened her mind to dream, seeking that which was lost.

She opened her mind to Niah’s Grove. Of course. Here Zenith had last drawn breath, here Niah’s old body mouldered, here Niah had finally consumed Zenith altogether.

Faraday looked about the grove that she could see in the shadow-lands of dream. Like all things in the shadow-lands, the grove was insubstantial. The forest faded in and out of view beyond the ring of nine great trees. Faraday had planted these trees herself to honour Niah’s memory, and now she regarded them wryly. Perhaps she should not have been so willing. This grove and this grave had
harboured Niah’s spirit as a scabbed wound harbours infection.

Here Zenith had lost her fight.

Faraday wandered slowly about the grassy ring. Moonwildflowers grew here in abandon, thicker around the centre. Here Axis had brought Isfrael to see her. Here Azhure had wept over her lost mother. Here. On the site of Smyrton.

Perhaps we should have left it, Faraday thought. She remembered the day Azhure had loosed her power to raze Smyrton to the ground. She remembered the foul wind that had swept over them. Infection again. Had it befouled Niah, tied to this spot…waiting, waiting, waiting?

She raised her head and looked about. “Zenith?” she whispered, the whisper echoing strangely about the trees. “Zenith?”

There was nothing, but Faraday was patient. If there still
was
a Zenith, then here she would be.

“Zenith?”

Faraday sat in the very centre of the grove, ringed by Moonwildflowers, and waited. She sat, and absorbed the stillness of the shadow-forest about her, and listened to the air as it moved damply about her.

A movement. There, to her left.

Very, very slowly, for Zenith must be truly lost and frightened, Faraday turned her head towards the movement and smiled. After a moment, she lifted her arm and held out her hand, palm uppermost.

Zenith.

“I do not know where I am.”

Zenith, come sit with me.

Another movement, stronger this time, and a form rose from the grass at the edge of the trees. It was wraith-like, almost apologetic, but it was Zenith’s form.

“I am lost.”

“Surely, sweetheart.” Now Faraday used her speaking voice, and widened her smile. “Come to me. Let me show you the way home.”

The form drifted towards her. She wrung her hands, and tears slid down her cheeks. “I do not know what to do.”

“Here.” Faraday patted the grass. “There is space here.”

The form drifted across and sank down beside Faraday. She was so ethereal that Faraday thought gossamer would seem like iron scaffolding beside her.

Zenith. There was not much of her left. Niah had almost won. A week or two more, and she
would
have won.

Faraday folded her hands in her lap and gazed serenely at this apparition. “Poor Zenith. Would you like me to show you the way home?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh!” Faraday almost forgot herself and laughed, but she stifled her merriment before it could find voice and frighten Zenith away. Zenith had never seen her, and had never known her human form.

“I am Faraday, Zenith. Once Duchess of Ichtar, once Queen of Achar, now just Faraday, owner of her own soul and destiny.”

The apparition smiled wistfully. “To own your own soul and destiny…that must be true happiness.”

“Ah, it is, Zenith, it is. I was bound by the Prophecy of the Destroyer, bound by my guardianship of the trees, bound by the Mother and by my love for your father for too long. Now I am free.”

What was left of Zenith nodded. “I am glad, Faraday. I did not envy your role in the Prophecy.”

“And I would that you be free, too. Do you want that?”

“Niah is too strong. I tried to fight her…but she was so tenacious, so determined.”

“She had the strength of the grave behind her, my dear, and you could not fight that. You did not have that experience. Then. Now, of course, Niah has made a ghastly mistake in banishing you to the one place where you
can
obtain the experience and yet
still
return. Zenith,” Faraday’s tone turned brusque, “I have a plan.”

“Good,” Zenith said, and her tone finally made Faraday laugh.

“Yes, extremely good. Niah has taken your body to the Island of Mist and Memory. There she continues to deepen her affair with WolfStar –”

Zenith turned her head aside.

“– and grows his child within your womb. Zenith, that child will be your saviour.”

“I do not want it!”

“Undoubtedly not. It is a product of rape – who could love a child of that? And who knows what WolfStar and Niah can breed between them? Listen to me, Zenith. You must fight.”

“How?”

“Can you still feel Niah? Feel the presence of her?”

Zenith nodded.

“Very well. Eventually we will use that child for our own ends, and that infant girl shall be your saviour. But first we must get you back to your body. Back to what Niah has claimed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Zenith, this shadow-grove is but one part of the shadow-lands that mimic entirely the world of waking. We can travel through these lands, travel towards the shadow dormitory of the priestesses where lies Niah.”

Zenith looked puzzled, but that puzzlement was underlaid with hope. “Tonight?”

Faraday smiled sadly. “Nay, child, not in one night, although we will make a start tonight. It will take us many, many nights. But get there we will, and we must get there before some other spirit inhabits the baby-child within Niah.”

“How long do I have?”

“A month perhaps. I shall come back each night and help you.”

“A month only to walk to the Island of Mist and Memory?”

“Every step we take in the shadow-lands equals fifteen in the world of waking. We travel much faster here.” Faraday smiled wryly. “It is one of the advantages of wraithdom, I suppose.”

“Then we had best begin.”

Faraday stood, then helped the Zenith-apparition to her feet. “My dear, the closer we get to the Island of Mist and Memory, the harder Niah will fight.”

“She will be aware that I approach?”

“Not as such – that’s why we move at night, only when she sleeps – but she will know something is wrong. Her own sleep-mind will raise barriers for you, try to prevent you. Zenith, there will come a time when each step you take towards the island will be agonising. It will go on for night after night. Can you face that?”

Zenith laughed, low and bitter. “Do I want life? Come Faraday, let me lean on you, and we shall take this first step.”