The Serpent Bride

by Sara Douglas

  "And her baby?"

  Zeboath shrugged. "Who can tell? She is about halfway through her pregnancy and the child is small. I

  cannot feel it move. She will either lose it, or manage to keep it until birth, but what damage may have been done to it, I don't--" He stopped suddenly, giving a shamefaced half smile. "And I should stop saying `I don't know,' yes?"

  Axis put his hand briefly on the man's shoulder, instinctively liking and trusting him. "You have done what you can." He glanced at Ishbel himself. "Until she wakes, and can speak, I doubt there's little anyone can do for her."

  "Her husband?"

  "I have no idea where he is," said Axis. "North of the FarReach Mountains, I assume."

  He remembered what BroadWing had said--Maximilian will tear the earth apart for her--and he wondered how long Maximilian would stay north of the FarReach Mountains once BroadWing had reported back to him.

  Zeboath was now looking at Ishbel with a degree of softness Axis found a little surprising. "If I had lost such a wife," Zeboath said, "I'd go mad trying to discover her again." Now he looked back at Axis. "Yet you say she is destined for Isaiah."

  Axis hesitated to speak, wondering what he could say, then realized he had been handed a god-given opportunity to see just what Isaiah's subjects thought of their tyrant.

  "You know what Isaiah is like," he said, with his own half shrug.

  Zeboath gave a soft snort. "He is what Aqhat and his childhood has made him," he said. "He is better than his father."

  "In what way?"

  Now Zeboath looked at Axis curiously. "You're not from this land, are you? You speak the language well, but too precisely, and with a strange intonation."

  "I come originally from the lost land of Tencendor," Axis said, "now earning my keep as a mercenary for Isaiah."

  "And as his spy?"

  "No. Whatever you say is safe. I ask questions only to sate my own curiosity."

  "Perhaps. Well, Isaiah's father, Turmebt, was..." Zeboath sighed. "A man not given to understanding and tolerance. A man who was given to indulging his tastes, however repulsive they might be. Isembaard would have celebrated his death, save that people were terrified even of his ghost. Isaiah was like him when he was a young man, so reports have it, but then he changed, for which most of Isembaard is thankful."

  "Oh? Changed? When, and how?"

  "I live a long way from Aqhat, Axis, and I do not know the precise how. But it was within the first two or three years of Isaiah ascending the throne. Sometime after, or perhaps even during, his campaign against the Eastern Independencies."

  That campaign again. Axis was more consumed by curiosity than ever, and wondered if he would one day become close enough to Isaiah to ask him about that campaign.

  "Isaiah is not now the man his father once was," Zeboath finished.

  "Indeed, that is warm praise for Isaiah."

  "Aye, I suppose it is. I do not think people particularly like Isaiah, but they do not yet hate him, either.

  He has to prove himself."

  "He has yet to conquer."

  "If you say so," Zeboath said. Then, before Axis could query him on that comment, the physician went on. "You look exhausted, Axis. Go to bed. You can do no more for the lady tonight. I know I need my bed. Good night."

  Rather than go to his room, Axis slouched down into a chair by Ishbel's bed, watching her for perhaps a half hour, and trying to go to sleep. But, even though he was desperately tired, it eluded him, and eventually Axis sighed and moved to drag his pack from where Insharah had left it, meaning to examine the rose pyramid.

  He found it soon enough, wrapped in some oilcloth and stuffed into the center of the pack where it would be most protected, and he drew out the bundle and sat back down in the chair. He'd never handled the one that Isaiah had, and was curious as to what--

  The instant his flesh touched the cool glass Axis gave a startled gasp, almost dropping the pyramid.

  Stars, no! Surely not!

  Trembling so badly he had to bite his lip and force his hands to move, Axis wrapped both palms about the rose pyramid.

  It touched the Star Dance.

  It touched the Star Dance.

  Axis could barely breathe. His chest had constricted so much it hurt.

  The Star Dance was filtering into his body via the pyramid.

  Not much, a tiny amount, but...oh, stars, stars!

  Far to the north, Eleanon stood by the open window of the main chamber of Crowhurst. Lister and Inardle had gone to bed hours ago, but Eleanon was enjoying standing in the frigid draft of air, watching it turn into ice as it passed across his body, and looking out over the frozen landscapes.

  Suddenly his head whipped about and he stared at the spire--as he called the pyramid--sitting on a table to one side of the room.

  Instantly he strode toward the table.

  Axis sat in his chair, his entire body crouched over the pyramid. It had Enchanter power in it, but somehow different. It was Icarii-made, but yet different.

  And it touched the Star Dance!

  Almost panicked, Axis tried to remember the simplest enchantment he could. Perhaps something for warmth, this chamber was so damned cold, something to--

  The pyramid glowed, and Axis had the sense of someone standing deep within it, but just out of sight.

  Eleanon had both hands wrapped about the pyramid, and held it against his chest so that whoever had Ba'al'uz' pyramid (and it wasn't Ba'al'uz, never that) could not see him.

  It was Axis. The StarMan. Eleanon could feel it, throbbing through the pyramid.

  And Axis had just felt the Star Dance through it.

  So, Axis, Eleanon thought. Finally we touch.

  "Axis StarMan," he murmured. "My apologies..."

  Then his hand tightened about the pyramid.

  Axis cried out. Not in pain, but in loss. The pyramid in his hands had suddenly flared with an intense rose color--and then it had dulled into complete lifelessness, losing whatever color it had ever contained, to become a dull, pale gray.

  All sense of the Star Dance had vanished.

  Axis gripped the pyramid, willing it back to life, but nothing happened. The object he held in his hands was now as lifeless as if someone had closed the door on its power. He did not know quite what had happened, but he felt that someone had cut the flow of power to the pyramid the instant they realized Axis was using it.

  Axis lowered his head over the pyramid and wept. Partly in loss, for to have lost even such a faint touch of the Star Dance was almost impossible to bear, but also in sheer joy.

  It was possible to touch the Star Dance again. It was. This was an object of great Icarii (or Icarii-like)

  power, woven with enchantment that was foreign to Axis, but only barely so.

  Wherever Lister had got these pyramids from, it had not been from Dark-Glass Mountain.

  The Star Dance was accessible again.

  Axis was so focused on the glass pyramid and his own discovery that he did not realize Ishbel's eyes had opened briefly and had watched him.

  When Ishbel woke it was well past dawn. The room was bright, and she had trouble focusing. For some time shapes in the room blurred in and out of focus, and when finally she did manage to bring her vision back under control, it was to see Axis SunSoar, sitting in a chair at some distance from her bed, watching her.

  "Your fever has broken," he said. "Zeboath--the physician--came in not an hour ago. He said you were out of any immediate danger."

  Ishbel did not directly respond, still a little disoriented. She lay quietly for a few minutes, looking at Axis,

  wondering about him. When he'd introduced himself yesterday (was it yesterday, or had she slept for weeks?) she had assumed that he could not possibly be the Axis SunSoar of legend, but now she was not so sure. He looked very much like the descriptions she'd heard of the Icarii StarMan: he had a tall lean grace, even slouched in the chair; wheat-colored hair pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck; a clipped
beard; and faded blue eyes. But it was his still watchfulness, and the aura of experience that hung about him, which made Ishbel revise her earlier conclusion. This was a man who had seen empires tumble and fall, who had caused their destruction, and who now tolerated her quiet regard with an infinite patience born, she thought, from a lifetime enduring cataclysmic events.

  But mostly Ishbel reconsidered her original assessment because she was a priestess trained in the art and the world of gods, and this man stank of god power, even though he made every attempt to subdue it.

  "Where am I?" Ishbel said finally.

  "In a town called Torinox. I had to bring you here because--"

  "Torinox? But what land, Axis? The men who took me told me nothing. I have no idea where I am."

  "My apologies. We are in the northern reaches of a great empire called the Tyranny of Isembaard. Have you heard of it?"

  Ishbel gave a weak nod. "It is to the south of my homeland. By the gods, Axis, I am so far from home."

  "Maximilian will be searching for you." Maximilian will tear apart the earth to find you.

  "I doubt it."

  She saw Axis raise his brows at the bitterness in her voice.

  "He thinks me responsible for a trail of death across the Central Kingdoms," she said, "and one of the Icarii who died yesterday--it was yesterday?"

  Axis gave a nod.

  "One of the Icarii who died, StarWeb, was his lover. He will blame me for her death as well."

  Now Axis' eyes livened with interest. "Maximilian Persimius kept an Icarii lover?"

  "Yes."

  "Yet he cannot have found you too unattractive, Ishbel. You're some five months gone with child."

  She moved a hand to her belly. "He wants the child. Not me, not anymore."

  Axis started to say something, then caught himself. Instead he came over to the bed, sat down on its edge, and felt her pulse.

  "The man responsible for that trail of deaths," he said softly, not looking at her, "was the man who captured you. A man called Ba'al'uz."

  "Why?"

  Axis gave a shrug, as if he did not know. Ishbel thought about pursuing the subject, but in the end was too tired and felt too ill to summon the energy.

  "Are you truly Axis SunSoar of legend?" she said.

  "Aye."

  "I thought you were dead."

  "So did I, but I seem to have a habit of rising from the dead."

  "Axis?"

  "Yes?"

  "Thank you for yesterday. And...I am sorry for the Icarii. I wish..."

  He nodded, but changed the subject when he spoke. "You need to breakfast," he said, "and regain your strength."

  "Will you take me home, Axis?"

  He looked her full in the eye then. "I am sorry, Ishbel. I cannot."

  Ishbel turned her head away. "Where will you take me, then?"

  "South, to a place called Aqhat."

  Ishbel was silent a long moment, and when she spoke her voice was very quiet.

  "Axis, what is the ancient evil that lives south? What is it that threatens our world?"

  When Lister rose in the morning, Eleanon told him that Axis SunSoar had one of the pyramids.

  "Which one?" Lister asked, a little sharply.

  "That which belonged to Ba'al'uz," said Eleanon. "He must have left it with his men when he left for Coroleas."

  "Well, I suppose it better that Axis have his than Isaiah's," said Lister. "Did he--"

  "He felt the Star Dance, yes," said Eleanon. "I felt his gladness, his joy, here." He tapped his chest.

  "Did he see you?" Lister said.

  Eleanon gave a shake of his head.

  "Did he know you?" Lister asked.

  Again the shake of the head, and Lister relaxed slightly. "Well, that is something. I hope you shut the thing down."

  "Yes."

  "I don't like the fact that Isaiah brought Axis back," Lister said. "Why? What does Isaiah plan to do with him? And what is Axis going to say, my friend, if ever he meets you?"

  "I have no desire to meet him. We cut our ties with the Icarii a long time ago, Lister. I owe Axis nothing,

  not friendship and certainly not loyalty. That belongs to you, as you know, and to the Lord of Elcho Falling."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Palace of the First, Yoyette, Coroleas

  StarDrifter existed in a state of hope for the first time in years. That hope was fourfold: the chance that he would soon see Axis again; the hope that he would be once more able to touch the Star Dance; the hope that he would finally manage to free one of the lost souls trapped within the Corolean deities; and the hope that in the doing he would destroy a woman he loathed. He could not wait for that moment when he would begin his seduction of Salome. StarDrifter was beginning to see in Salome, in her cruelty and selfishness, all the women he'd hated--most notably StarLaughter, the ancient Enchantress who had come back from the dead and murdered the one birdwoman StarDrifter loved before any other: Zenith.

  In doing what Ba'al'uz asked of him, StarDrifter saw redemption for himself. Revenge for Zenith, for all the slaves and children who were entrapped in their bronze deities, and for everyone who suffered at the hands of the Coroleans.

  A revenge for five years of insults and sniggers at the Corolean court.

  A revenge for the loss of his wings, and for his life of sheer, damned futility.

  StarDrifter was determined not to fail, and he was arrogant enough to believe that he could not fail.

  After all, who better than he to know the best way to seduce a woman?

  StarDrifter pushed aside all sympathy for Salome. She was the worst of a corrupt society. She had murdered, indulged her love for cruelty, and trampled all who stood in her way. He was only doing to Salome what she'd done to countless thousands.

  Tonight was Moonlit Night Court. StarDrifter might loathe much about Corolean society, but he always looked forward to the thirteen Moonlit Night Courts of the year. The emperor held court in the gardens of the Palace of the First on the night of full moon. While murder and intrigue and corruption still pervaded every moment of the evening, somehow the beauty of the gardens and the moonlight negated the pervasive cruelty of the Corolean court and made it, for just one night, something to be enjoyed rather than endured.

  Moonlit Night Court did not get under way until a full two hours after dark. People filtered into the extensive topiary gardens of the Palace of the First in small groups, murmuring among themselves,

  accepting glasses of minted alcoholic julep and squares of sugared confections from servants, and wandering slowly among the fantastic topiary creations that stood over three paces high. Tens of thousands of topiaries dotted an area the size of a small town, created a mazelike tangle of paths and unexpected glades. Overhead drifted a galaxy of round paper lanterns, each lit from within by a small candle. StarDrifter had heard that there was an entire department of slaves within the palace devoted entirely to their production and deployment, and that throughout the night they would scurry about,

  launching fresh lanterns, retrieving those that had become caught among the tops of the topiary creations,

  and dampening any unfortunate fires.

  StarDrifter arrived when the gardens were already humming with people and conspiracy. He'd spent the early part of the evening pacing the confines of his tiny room, not wanting to appear too early, and putting up with Ba'al'uz' murmured fretting about what might go wrong. StarDrifter had finally been forced to snarl at the man, and send him back to his own chamber, simply to get some peace.

  But now he was here. StarDrifter had taken particular care with his appearance, using Ba'al'uz' coin to purchase an outfit that would, he hoped, be enough to make him stand out.

  In a court renowned for its gaudy excess, StarDrifter had chosen well. Heads turned as he wandered slowly through the topiary maze, whispers trailing in his path.

  StarDrifter wore a virtually skintight black ensemble that was remarkable for its subtlety and understatement. Th
e material was of a fine matte silk, with a delicate, raised pattern woven into it that made the material shimmer very slightly in the moonlight. It covered StarDrifter from neck to toe, and even had gloves and shoes made of matching material. Its subtlety and color complemented his silvery-golden coloring perfectly, but it was StarDrifter's innate grace and elegance that turned an otherwise beautiful costume into the extraordinary.

  StarDrifter only had to stroll through the garden, hands loosely clasped behind his back, for the entire court to become aware of his presence. He spoke to no one, inclined his head only very occasionally at someone, and refused all refreshment pressed on him by openmouthed servants.

  Tonight, for the very first time since he'd arrived in Coroleas, StarDrifter felt truly like a prince of the Icarii.

  Confidence and unavailability oozed from his every pore, and StarDrifter knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that every woman and half the men present desired him.

  But only one woman mattered, only the one for whom this extraordinary showing was staged--and even if Salome managed to resist this display, StarDrifter had one trick left up his sleeve.

  Something he was sure she would never resist.

  It took StarDrifter almost an hour before he came across her, but he knew that she must have been aware of his approach for some minutes beforehand. The whispers he generated were spreading ahead of him like a wave.

  He turned a corner, and there she was, the Duchess of Sidon, already staring at the gap in the topiary from which he emerged. Remarkably, Salome was dressed in black as well, although her costume revealed far more flesh than StarDrifter's. There were several other people standing with Salome, and they all stared wordlessly at him.

  StarDrifter knew he had only two options, to nod at her and then continue on his sinuous way and hope she was intrigued enough to send a sycophant scurrying after him, or to approach her directly, and reveal his interest.