Sinner

by Sara Douglass

  For Niah, for the woman who would destroy her.

  Tonight she would end it.

  Faraday met StarDrifter’s eyes, then she nodded at Zenith.

  StarDrifter put his hand on the handle and pushed open the door.

  Zenith lifted her head and stared.

  Stared at the Enchanter lying tangled with her naked body. Stared with loathing at her hand resting on her swollen belly.

  Zenith’s lip curled, and she growled, and…

  Disappeared.

  Frantic, StarDrifter clutched at Faraday. Her fingers dug tight into his arm, cautioning him into utter silence, and then she dragged them back into the world where WolfStar and Niah lay sleeping peacefully on the bed.

  Except now, as they discovered when they opened their eyes in that world, some of that peace had dissipated.

  WolfStar still lay sleeping, but Niah had gone rigid in his arms. Her eyes had opened wide and were staring at the ceiling, although Faraday and StarDrifter knew she saw nothing.

  Niah’s entire body trembled…and then rippled. Rippled again, and then jerked.

  WolfStar stirred, and Faraday again grabbed at StarDrifter and pulled him back into a darkened corner, cloaking them in power.

  WolfStar opened his eyes, blinked, and looked at Niah.

  She lay still now, one hand curled protectively over her belly.

  WolfStar smiled, stroked the hair back from her brow, and settled back into sleep.

  When he had relaxed completely, the woman on the bed opened her eyes and stared into the corner where Faraday and StarDrifter stood.

  It is done, she whispered in their minds, and the hand that had rested so protectively over her belly now rose, clenched into a tight fist, and slammed down hard.

  Zenith rolled over and gagged, but she raised her hand again, and struck herself as hard as she could.

  WolfStar rolled over, rising out of his sleep, and, desperate now, Zenith half fell out of the bed, grabbed at a heavy candlestick on a table, raised it, and drove it into her belly.

  This time she could not help but cry out with the pain.

  StarDrifter could bear it no longer. He leaped from the corner, leaped from the protecting cloak of Faraday’s power, and to Zenith’s side. “Zenith!”

  WolfStar roared into full wakefulness. Not yet grasping the full import of what was happening, though understanding that something was dreadfully wrong, his power reached out and slammed StarDrifter into a far wall.

  Zenith backed away, inching from the bed on her buttocks and hands and feet.

  Even from the corner Faraday could see the spasms that quivered across her belly.

  “Hurry, Zenith, hurry!” she whispered.

  Zenith moaned, and doubled over, clutching at her belly.

  “Niah!” WolfStar was at her side. “Did he hurt you? What has he done?”

  “The baby!” Zenith gasped, and rolled completely over, moaning again.

  She left a pool of blood gleaming behind her.

  “Niah?” WolfStar whispered again, his mind refusing to believe what was happening. “Niah?”

  Zenith grunted, once, twice, and then a third time. Her fingers scrabbled at the floorboards. She grunted again, curled into a tight ball.

  WolfStar bent over her, and then somehow sensed Faraday in the corner.

  “Help her!” he cried.

  Faraday smiled. “With pleasure,” she said, and bent down to Zenith’s side. She was grateful her heavy hair hung down to hide the satisfaction that crossed her face.

  Zenith, her hands bloodied, pushed Faraday back, then grabbed at something between her legs.

  Then, in a move so appallingly fast WolfStar had no hope of stopping her, Zenith seized the tiny, bloody body and struck him across the face with it.

  “Take your lover,” Zenith screamed, “and enjoy her into eternity!”

  WolfStar backed away in confusion and horror.

  Zenith hefted the tiny, battered body once more and flung it at him.

  It hit his head with a sickening wet smack, and then flopped to the floor.

  WolfStar, his face smeared with blood – and worse – slowly lowered his eyes.

  There, lying at his feet, was the undeveloped body of a tiny baby girl. Bruised. Battered. Unmoving. Unbreathing. Her skull crushed beyond all repair.

  “Niah,” Zenith said flatly, her eyes glittering hatred. “Dead at last.”

  58

  As Clear as a Temple Bell

  Beyond the Star Gate darkness swirled among the stars like tainted smoke. Entire galaxies had been lost, star systems obliterated, the very music of the Star Dance itself dulled.

  The observers knew that the universe itself was in no danger, it was just that the closeness of the TimeKeeper Demons to the Star Gate meant that it was hard to see beyond their influence to the stars.

  But that knowledge was no help – especially when the Star Dance itself was so muted by the Demons’ presence.

  “Look how close they come!” Adamon cried. “How long before they totally block out the Star Dance?”

  Axis lifted his eyes from the horror in the Star Gate and stared at him. He’d never seen Adamon anything other than totally composed. To now see him so agitated was in itself almost more terrifying than witnessing the TimeKeepers creep so close to the Star Gate.

  “How long before all Enchanters – and us – lose touch with the Star Dance?” Adamon said, more quietly now.

  “WolfStar,” Axis said, determined to try to find something that could aid them. “You can use the Dark Music. Has that been dulled by the approach of the TimeKeepers, too?”

  WolfStar ignored the question. He stared into the Star Gate, his expression so bleak that Axis thought he looked as though hope itself had been torn from him.

  “WolfStar?” he asked softly.

  WolfStar’s head snapped up. “What?” he snarled.

  “I asked if the Dark Music has been dulled by the approach of the TimeKeepers.”

  WolfStar took a deep, shuddering breath. “I apologise. My thoughts were…elsewhere. But, to answer your question, yes. If we can’t prevent these Demons breaking through the Star Gate soon then we shall shortly be powerless to do so at all. And if they do break through, then nothing will prevent them ravaging at will.”

  And my son leads them, Axis thought numbly. My son! He brings the destruction not only of Tencendor, but of the Star Gods and every Enchanter alive with it.

  “What of Caelum?” Axis said. “If we lose all power, then so will Caelum. How can he stop them then?”

  WolfStar shrugged. “I’m sure we can find some way to get the Sceptre back for him –”

  “Hope will not win this day,” Axis said. “I, for one, have had enough of this vacillation. WolfStar, it is time we studied this Maze Gate. And then it is time we actually did something. Will you take us there?”

  WolfStar nodded, and turned away.

  SpikeFeather started as the three suddenly appeared at the head of the steps leading down to the Maze. He’d spent the past few weeks either trying to decipher the Gate’s message – an uneasy task at best – or wandering the waterways, trying to access the sites of the other craft. The search had been a miserable failure, and his attempts to decipher the Gate not much better.

  It was a most frustrating Gate.

  Beside him sat WingRidge. WingRidge had appeared a few days ago – his fifth visit in the time SpikeFeather had been down here – although the captain had maddeningly refused to say what his exact business was. In fact, it was infuriatingly impossible to get WingRidge to say much at all.

  Yet even so, the lines of worry about his eyes and mouth were far easier to decipher than the mysteries of this Gate.

  Adamon and Axis walked down the steps slowly, unable to conceal their amazement at the sight of the city-maze before them. Everything within the city – streets, buildings, roofs, doors, windows – formed part of an incredibly intricate labyrinth. It stretched into a hazy distance, leagues o
f twisting, winding madness.

  “How could anyone find their way through that?” Axis whispered, stopping halfway down the steps and staring.

  “The idea was that nothing should ever find its way out of it,” WolfStar said.

  “Qeteb’s soul lies in there?” Adamon said.

  WolfStar nodded. “Somewhere. If they need to reconstitute him completely then the Demons must hunt it down.”

  And suddenly, as clear as a temple bell on a snowy night, WolfStar knew what he had to do. Life parts lay scattered all over Tencendor – just waiting to be used. On any dead body that needed reviving.

  Niah!

  Axis studied him carefully, wondering at the emotions raging across WolfStar’s face. “So the Maze is intended not only to keep Qeteb in, but to keep the Demons out.”

  WolfStar composed himself; whatever had distracted him now seemed put aside. “Partly.”

  He hesitated, then indicated that they should join SpikeFeather and WingRidge by the Gate. “But I think the Maze serves other purposes as well – although I have never been able to decipher exactly what. Ah, wait!”

  WolfStar stopped Adamon and Axis on the final few steps. “Look!” He pointed towards a distant quarter of the Maze. “Those streets and that tenement complex are new. The Maze is growing. Faster than I’ve yet observed it.”

  Adamon glanced at Axis. “In response to the approach of the Demons,” he muttered, and then they negotiated the last five or six steps and joined an awed SpikeFeather and an impassive WingRidge.

  SpikeFeather bowed deeply to Adamon and Axis, murmuring a greeting.

  “Peace,” Adamon said. “We have not come to disturb your contemplations, SpikeFeather, but to scry out this Gate for ourselves. And you,” he turned to the captain of the Lake Guard, “are WingRidge?”

  WingRidge inclined his head.

  “WolfStar tells us you are devoted to the Maze.”

  “Devoted to the StarSon, Adamon,” WingRidge said.

  “Then why are you not above ground helping him in his battle with Zared?” Axis asked harshly.

  WingRidge’s composure did not falter. “I, as the entire Lake Guard, serve the StarSon as we see best. Sometimes, Axis, that way is not immediately apparent to outsiders.”

  Axis held his tongue, although he resented being called an outsider. He knew from his own experiences that many who acted in the best interests of Tencendor sometimes took mysterious paths whose purposes were not immediately apparent.

  “The writing has shifted,” WolfStar murmured, moving to the Gate. “Changed.”

  Axis and Adamon followed him, and studied the mysterious characters. They were so alien, almost incomprehensible – yet scattered symbols made a subtle sense.

  “Here,” WolfStar said quietly. “And here, here, and here, and yet again here.”

  Axis followed his finger. WolfStar pointed to identical symbols that depicted a star surmounted by a sun. “StarSon,” Axis said.

  “Caelum,” WolfStar agreed. “The Gate mentions him again and again.”

  “WolfStar,” Adamon said, stepping back so he could view the entire Gate. “Does the Gate show what must be done?”

  “Yes,” WolfStar said.

  WingRidge regarded him wryly. Yes, the Gate does show what must be done, he thought. But have you got the translation right, oh vaunted Enchanter?

  “Well, what does the Gate say?” Axis asked.

  WolfStar studied it closely. “It shows Caelum,” he said quietly, “battling to save a world disordered by the Questors. Here it speaks of peoples lying down in the streets to die of despair, here they capitulate to terror, here to hunger. It speaks of a world where the Demons run rampant, where Qeteb rises from the grave, where hope and joy exist not even in memory.”

  “And yet if Caelum – if we – lose our powers when the Demons break through the Star Gate, then how can he master them?” Adamon paced back and forth. “What hope has he?”

  “The Rainbow Sceptre contains its own powers,” WolfStar said. “With that, with the power of the ancients, Caelum can master them! Remember the ancients managed to contain Qeteb in the first instance. Adamon, Axis, that Sceptre is our only hope. See how the Gate intertwines the symbol of the StarSon with that of the Sceptre time and time again! The Sceptre must be Caelum’s only hope. Our power is likely to be useless before the Demons and certainly before Qeteb. But with Caelum wielding the Sceptre…”

  “And yet Drago has the Sceptre, and uses it to help drag the Demons through the Gate and enslave us all.” Axis’ voice tightened in frustration. “And Caelum is entangled with Zared.”

  “Axis,” Adamon asked very quietly, speaking as tactfully as he could, “can Caelum deal with this threat? He has so very little experience.”

  Axis opened his mouth, then snapped it closed again. Finally, reluctantly, he spoke. “Caelum needs the experience and, dammit, the confidence of winning this conflict with Zared. He must deal with Zared on his own, and he must win. He needs to be trained to deal with the Demons and Qeteb – but I dare not drag him away from his fight with Zared. To do that would totally destroy his confidence.”

  “And there would be no need for Caelum to meet these Demons if we manage to stop them first,” Adamon said.

  WolfStar looked away from the piece of script he was studying. “What do you mean?” And if the Demons were stopped, would that give him free rein to gather together the life parts he needed?

  “I am talking of warding the Star Gate so the Questors cannot break through – even if they hammer on the other side.”

  “Can we do that?” Axis asked.

  Adamon suddenly looked very tired. “It would take all our remaining power, and then more. Axis, we would need the help of a hundred of the most powerful Enchanters, as well as Isfrael’s assistance.”

  “The trees,” Axis said. “We will need the magic of the trees behind us.”

  “We will need everything we can bring to bear to stop these fiends,” Adamon said quietly. “Because if we do not stop them at the Star Gate, then I fear they will turn Tencendor into a wasteland of desolate souls in their quest to reform Qeteb.”

  “I pledge my every power, my last effort, in the building of those wards,” WolfStar said fiercely. “We must stop the Demons!”

  59

  Zenith

  Weakened both physically and emotionally, Zenith still found the strength for laughter and optimism. She sat with Faraday and StarDrifter on the upper steps of the empty Assembly Chamber. The wind stole gently about them, carrying with it the scent of flowers and mown lawns.

  Zenith took Faraday’s hand, turning it palm uppermost in her own. “I find it difficult to find the words to express my gratitude, Faraday.”

  “You do not need to.” Faraday kissed her cheek softly. “I have thanks enough to see you sitting here smiling.”

  StarDrifter sat slightly apart from the two women, a soft expression on his face, loving both of them. He loved Faraday for finding Zenith and bringing her home, and he loved Zenith for her slight of WolfStar. StarDrifter loathed WolfStar, hating his dark influence on so many lives, his power, his self-righteousness. How could an Enchanter who had murdered hundreds, and sent yet more to dreadful deaths, who had manipulated with such ease, still earn the admiration and respect of so many?

  After Zenith had flung the dead foetus in his face, WolfStar had picked it up gently from the floor, held it in his hands, then raised his head to Zenith. He’d said nothing, just looked at her, and then, the foetus still in his hands, he had walked calmly out the door. None of them had seen him since.

  StarDrifter sincerely hoped WolfStar didn’t have the power to resurrect that foetus. Zenith had twisted its neck as it was being born, and had then crushed its skull. That should be enough, surely, to kill the most persistent of spirits.

  “Faraday,” Zenith said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had built up between the three of them. “What happened to Drago?”

  “Oh! I�
�d forgotten that you wouldn’t know. He stepped through the Star Gate, and he took with him the Rainbow Sceptre.”

  “He had the Sceptre with him?” Zenith’s eyes opened wide. “He carried that sack so tight and close…”

  She turned her head slightly so she could see StarDrifter. “But, grandfather, surely the Star Gate would have killed him?”

  StarDrifter thought carefully before answering. “What happened to Drago when he stepped through is largely conjecture, Zenith. Your parents think he went through to aid the TimeKeeper Demons.”

  “The who?”

  StarDrifter and Faraday explained what they knew.

  “Poor Drago,” Zenith said quietly when they’d finished. “I cannot condone what he has done, but…”

  “But,” StarDrifter edged down the steps between them so he could sit on the other side of Zenith, “but you aided his escape from Sigholt.”

  “Aided it, yes,” Zenith answered, thinking of the peculiar role the Lake Guard had played in that escape as well.

  Faraday glanced at StarDrifter, then back to Zenith. “Why?”

  “Because I do not believe he killed RiverStar.”

  “Why innocent?” StarDrifter asked. “Was he not found by RiverStar’s body, knife in hand? Did not the Song of Recall show him to be the murderer?”

  Zenith’s eyes focused on the star-map mosaic in the chamber floor far below them. “I cannot explain it, StarDrifter, beyond saying that the Song of Recall was conjured by WolfStar, and I had seen already how deeply WolfStar loathed Drago. He would have done anything to see him convicted and executed.”

  StarDrifter nodded. He could understand why Zenith would not trust WolfStar…but did that make Drago any the less guilty? But Faraday had asked him to have faith in Drago, and if she believed in him, then StarDrifter thought that he could too.

  “And if not Drago, then who?” Faraday asked. “Zenith, you must have some suspicion. Neither StarDrifter nor I were there.”

  “RiverStar claimed she had a new lover, very powerful, very potent. She said she loved him, and wanted to wed him. I think he may have murdered her. If not, then why hasn’t he come forward? Why so secretive?”