Starman

by Sara Douglass

  “Of course not. You have done the best thing, Gorgrael.”

  The Dark Man had almost collapsed with relief when Gorgrael forced Timozel to obey his orders. His heart still pounded uncomfortably; he’d thought Timozel might persuade Gorgrael to continue the attack. Disaster had been so close, and even now the Dark Man could hardly believe that Gorgrael could not see it, smell it. If he had allowed Timozel to push…

  By the Stars! the Dark Man breathed silently to himself, keeping his thoughts as well cloaked as his face, thank all the gods in existence he is so obsessed by the Gryphon! The monster is going to give us the time to recover!

  If we can.

  “And now I cannot feel Axis.” Gorgrael stopped in front of the Dark Man and peered unsuccessfully beneath his hood. “Where is he? What has happened to him? Always before now I could feel his hateful tug at my soul. Is he truly dead?” His eyes gleamed.

  “He is tricky,” the Dark Man advised. “He has somehow cloaked his power, hoping that you will think him to be dead.” It was the best he could do.

  Gorgrael peered uncomfortably a moment longer, then he nodded. “Yes, yes, you must be right. Axis is trying to trick me…trick me into throwing my entire host at him. He hides somewhere…planning some deception. No, no, I won’t fall for that trick.”

  Gorgrael clicked his claws together as he paced, his thoughts racing beyond the day’s events. “She plants,” he mumbled. “She plants, and with every seedling that slips into the earth I feel the nasty Song strengthen.”

  “She has a way to go,” the Dark Man said, relieved by the sudden change in conversation.

  “But she has done too much already!” Gorgrael hissed.

  The Dark Man looked up from his gloved hands. “Nothing is too much until the last tree. If she does not complete her task then even a hundred leagues of forest below the Avarinheim will prove harmless. They must be joined.”

  “Harmless?” Gorgrael spat into the fire. “Harmless, Dark Man? Those trees might not yet sing at their full power, but already they hum distressingly. I have my hands full with Axis, yet I must do something about his Lover and her damned planting.” He fidgeted, frowning. “What can I do to stop her?”

  “You need do nothing!” the Dark Man said merrily, and Gorgrael frowned even further. “Nothing,” the Dark Man repeated, “for Artor himself stalks her.”

  “Artor?” Gorgrael gasped.

  “Verily,” laughed the Dark Man. “Let that pitiful god do the work for you. He has as much interest as you in stopping the forest.”

  “He will not harm her?”

  “No, merely stop her horrid gardening.”

  “And then?”

  “Why, then you can seize her. Use her as you will.”

  Gorgrael thought about it. Was there something here he could not see? What was the Dark Man not telling him? But he smiled anyway. “Yes. I shall enjoy that.” His smile died. “Going so soon, Dear Man?”

  “I will find out what has happened to Axis for you, Gorgrael.”

  29

  LATE-NIGHT CONVERSATIONS

  “StarDrifter?” Azhure’s weak voice pulled StarDrifter out of his doze and his head jerked out of his arms where they rested on her bed. “Azhure!” He reached out and stroked her forehead. “How are you feeling?” It was a stupid question.

  She tried a wan smile, but it didn’t work, so she sighed and turned her head further towards StarDrifter’s hand. “I am alive, StarDrifter. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “And you will live, Azhure.”

  “Why, StarDrifter? Axis is dead.” Her voice broke. “Axis is dead!”

  “And we are both alive and you have three children to live for, Azhure. Cling to that.”

  “Three,” she murmured and her hand crept down over the coverlets to her belly. “They almost killed me. They tried, I think.”

  Shocked, StarDrifter opened his mouth to deny her words, then shut it slowly. “The twins are in the next room, Azhure, as is Caelum. Do you want to see them?”

  “I will see Caelum in the morning,” she whispered, turning her face to stare at the ceiling, “but I am too heartsick now. I do not want to see the twins at all.”

  For a long time StarDrifter sat and stroked her brow, pleased she was conscious and talking, but distressed by her weakness and despondency. Yet how else could she have responded to Axis’ death? StarDrifter felt as though his soul had been enveloped in cold blackness. Where he had felt the constant contact with Axis’ life force was now nothing but void.

  Azhure twisted her head back to gaze at StarDrifter. Dark shadows circled her eyes. “He’s won, hasn’t he, StarDrifter? Gorgrael has won. There is nothing to keep him from Tencendor now.”

  “In the morning,” StarDrifter murmured. “We’ll talk in the morning. Be still now.”

  There was a knock at the door, and StarDrifter stirred irritably.

  “Who can that be?” Azhure whispered.

  “Perhaps the First,” StarDrifter said. He lifted his head. “Come in.”

  The door slowly opened, and WolfStar SunSoar stepped into the room.

  Both Azhure and StarDrifter froze in shock—StarDrifter had absolutely no doubt who this was. An Enchanter’s power—and such power!—radiated from his eyes, and his SunSoar blood called to StarDrifter.

  For a long moment WolfStar stared at StarDrifter, as if daring an attack, then he moved to the other side of Azhure’s bed, folding his golden wings gracefully behind him as he sat down, smiling at his daughter.

  “Azhure. You have endured so much.”

  Azhure felt StarDrifter’s hand clench on her brow, and she shot him a pleading look. “StarDrifter! Please, don’t do anything foolish!”

  “He would be foolish to even try!” WolfStar hissed, turning the full power of his stare on StarDrifter.

  The antagonism between the two Enchanters was palpable, and for the first time since that afternoon Azhure forgot her loss. “Please!” she cried. “Please!”

  “You murdered my mother,” StarDrifter yelled, half rising to his feet, “you murdered your pregnant wife, and you murdered hundreds of Icarii children! Do not think that I will just sit here and pass pleasant conversation!”

  Azhure seized his arm, her own hand trembling, and it was enough to make StarDrifter subside. But he did not lower his blazing eyes from WolfStar’s, and he bared his teeth in a snarl.

  “Reasons governed all of my actions, foolish birdman!” WolfStar snapped. “I do not let myself get carried away with petty emotions and passing lusts. I have more responsibilities than you can possibly imagine!”

  “And more guilts, too, I imagine!”

  WolfStar’s nostrils flared in anger and he made to rise as well. Azhure could feel the power snap in the air between them.

  “Stop!” she cried, her voice cracking with the effort and with her pain, and both Enchanters turned their eyes back to her in concern. “While I am in this room you will behave civilly,” she said. “StarDrifter, I will not have you try to avenge all of WolfStar’s wrongs. I will not have it, do you hear? I do not want to lose you as well!”

  StarDrifter nodded stiffly and dropped his eyes to stare at the coverlet.

  “WolfStar?” Azhure waited until she had his undivided attention. “WolfStar, you must know how the Icarii feel about you. Can you blame StarDrifter for his anger? His hurt? Respect that, do not taunt him for it.”

  WolfStar’s jaw tightened, but he, too, nodded stiffly.

  “Good,” Azhure said wearily. “For I do not have the strength to mourn more than one love tonight.”

  WolfStar took a deep breath, ill-will simmering at StarDrifter from the corners of his violet eyes, then took Azhure’s hand tenderly.

  “Axis lives,” he said directly, and then smiled slowly. “Axis lives.”

  If anything, that simple statement overwhelmed Azhure and StarDrifter more than WolfStar’s entrance.

  “Axis lives?” Azhure asked, so bewildered she found no comfort in the wo
rds. “No, he cannot. He cannot. I cannot feel him…StarDrifter?”

  StarDrifter was shaking his head in as much confusion. “No…I mean, yes, Azhure. WolfStar? Neither of us can feel him. He must be dead!”

  WolfStar continued to hold Azhure’s hand, but he looked at StarDrifter. “Sometimes I feel that Death follows me like a shadow. I can rarely shake it off. Tonight, for once, I bring life in my wake.” He sighed. “Yesterday afternoon there was a terrible battle at the mouth of the Azle River.”

  Azhure moaned, and StarDrifter took her other hand.

  “Gorgrael’s forces swarm, Azhure, and Axis led his army to meet them, even though he doubted the outcome.”

  “He always doubts,” Azhure whispered, and then marvelled that she could use the present tense again so quickly.

  “Yes, he doubts, but none can fault his courage. Azhure, StarDrifter, Gorgrael’s power grows beyond anything I could imagine—”

  “Or encourage,” StarDrifter said, but Azhure squeezed his hand, silencing him.

  WolfStar spared him a swift black look, then continued in an even tone. “Later, StarDrifter, later. Gorgrael has Gryphon. You know of them.”

  Azhure and StarDrifter both nodded.

  “Well,” WolfStar’s mouth twisted, “he had nine hundred and seven, to be exact, to throw at Axis at the Azle mouth. No, wait, I will explain later. For now, let me just tell you about Axis. He had managed to contain the Skraelings, but the Gryphon attacked his force. He had to do something. What he did amazed even me. I had not thought he had the courage.”

  “You do not know him as we do, WolfStar,” Azhure said.

  “I know him better than you think!” he snapped, but continued on in a more moderate tone. “He reached for a Song to destroy the Gryphon, which he did, but he virtually destroyed himself at the same time. StarDrifter,” he turned his head, “you will understand this. He manipulated an appalling amount of the Star Dance. It almost killed him…and now he lies crippled.”

  Azhure cried out and tried to rise, but WolfStar pushed her back. “No, listen to what I have to say, Azhure. You will go to him soon enough—and, Stars knows, he needs you.”

  “But we cannot feel him,” StarDrifter said, not letting himself hope, not wanting to believe WolfStar. “Why can we not feel him? Why was the link severed?”

  “Because Axis has lost all his power. He has lost contact with the Star Dance, and it is through the contact with the Star Dance that members of the same family can feel each other’s life force.” He shrugged. “He is crippled.”

  There was worse, but WolfStar did not think Azhure was strong enough to take that yet. She would find out soon enough.

  The three were silent for a long time as Azhure and StarDrifter absorbed WolfStar’s news.

  Stars, Azhure thought, he needs me more than ever now. I must go to him! But I cannot, not bedridden as I am, not powerless as I am. At least the babies have been born.

  Finally, Azhure lifted her eyes to her father. “We need to talk, you and I,” she said. “Here I am on the Island of Mist and Memory, and this is where I had to come for the answers. This is where I had to come to find out how to touch my power. WolfStar, you conceal yourself and the truth behind mystery and grief and shadows beyond knowing, but tonight I am going to demand answers from you.”

  WolfStar nodded. “Yes, it is time. But StarDrifter must go.”

  “No!” he growled, and Azhure felt his hand tense.

  “No,” she echoed. “StarDrifter stays. You have more people to answer to than me, WolfStar. StarDrifter stays.”

  WolfStar’s eyes glinted, and he threw his head back, but he reluctantly acquiesced. “Nevertheless, Azhure, there are some mysteries that only you shall be privy to.” He lifted her hand so that both she and StarDrifter could see the Enchantress’ ring. “The ring demands it. Your own power demands it. If you are to grow into what you must become then you will have to do it by yourself. Not even I can attend.”

  Azhure frowned but WolfStar did not expand. “Well,” he said, “your first question?”

  She started with the oldest and greatest grief.

  “Niah,” she said. “Why did you lie to her?”

  WolfStar’s brow furrowed. “Lie? I do not understand you.”

  Azhure looked at StarDrifter. “StarDrifter? Could you fetch the letter?”

  She had shown StarDrifter Niah’s letter the same night she had first read it. Now he fetched it from a box and handed it to WolfStar.

  The Enchanter’s beautiful violet eyes widened as he read Niah’s words.

  “She was so beautiful, in soul and form,” he said eventually, then raised his eyes to Azhure’s. “Lie? I am still perplexed.”

  “You told her you loved her. Why did you have to lie?”

  “I never uttered one lie to Niah,” WolfStar answered. “Not one. I loved her, and I continue to love her.”

  Azhure’s face twisted. “And reborn, WolfStar? Do you mean me to believe that you can actually arrange her rebirth?”

  “What exists between Niah and me does not have to be explained to you, Azhure.”

  “Yes it does!” Azhure screamed, half lifting from her pillow, “because I was the one who had to watch her die!”

  WolfStar flinched, and StarDrifter leaned closer to Azhure, murmuring comfort.

  “Yes, it does,” Azhure repeated, sinking back down. “Explain to me.”

  “Niah will be reborn, Azhure,” WolfStar said quietly, his eyes holding his daughter’s stare steadily. “But it will not be for some years yet. Beyond Prophecy. That is all I can tell you.”

  Azhure nodded, accepting it, but tears ran down her cheek. She lifted her free hand and brushed them away.

  “Why her death, WolfStar? Why the years of horror at Hagen’s hands? Why did you leave me to suffer so?”

  “Why did Niah need to die? Why your suffering? For the same reason, Azhure, all for the one reason.” WolfStar hesitated, hating the truth that he would have to speak. “Because you needed to suffer, Azhure—”

  StarDrifter leapt to his feet, unable to believe what he was hearing. “No child needs to suffer! How can you sit there and—”

  Now WolfStar was on his feet. “Because I know more than you and because I have suffered! Now, will you let me finish?”

  “StarDrifter?” Azhure pleaded, and he subsided as WolfStar sat back down.

  “Azhure. You may not believe this, but I wept for you every day you remained with Hagen. When I said that you needed to suffer, it was not because I wanted you to suffer. Azhure, I am as bound by the Prophecy as everyone else. Even I must do its bidding…although sometimes I did not understand why.”

  “Enough excuses, WolfStar,” StarDrifter ground out. “Why did Azhure have to suffer?”

  WolfStar sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Because of who you will become, Azhure.” He dropped his hand, and when he looked at his daughter neither she nor StarDrifter could mistake the sympathy in his eyes. “You will wield great power one day, Azhure, and that day is not far off. More power than I, certainly more than StarDrifter.” He shot the Enchanter yet another hostile glare. “Azhure, you needed to suffer because only suffering grants compassion, and without compassion you will misuse the power that will be yours. Suffering was needed to temper the woman you will become.”

  “And have you suffered, WolfStar?” StarDrifter sneered.

  “More than you could ever know, StarDrifter,” he said quietly.

  “Enough, StarDrifter, WolfStar. Father,” and this was the first time she had ever called him that, “what do you mean, ‘temper the woman I will become’?”

  “By dawn you will have your answers, Azhure. I promise you that. But at the moment I can say no more.” Not with StarDrifter present.

  Azhure nodded, accepting, and returned to the horror of her childhood. “Why Smyrton in particular? Why Hagen? Why send Niah so far north?” She paused. “Suffering can be purchased anywhere.”

  “Because you needed to be there t
o meet Axis. And because you needed to be close to Artor. Smyrton is a very special place for Artor, it is his heartland, and it was there you could grow to understand him best and discover his weaknesses.”

  “What?” Azhure asked. Artor? But WolfStar sat stony-faced and refused to explain.

  “Did you come to me there?” she asked.

  WolfStar nodded. “I could not ignore you. I did what I could for you.”

  “Alayne,” Azhure said, realising the extent of WolfStar’s manipulation.

  WolfStar nodded again, but StarDrifter looked puzzled.

  “When I was young, after Niah died,” Azhure explained, “a travelling blacksmith came to Smyrton every two weeks or so, StarDrifter. His name was Alayne. I thought him my only friend and he told me many stories.” She laughed, bitterly. “He told me the ancient legend of Caelum. The legend I decided to name my son after. And I thought it was I who named him. But no. WolfStar named him.”

  WolfStar tried to explain. “I told you stories of power and kept your own power alive underneath your cloak of fear.”

  She turned her head away slightly.

  “And now I have a question,” StarDrifter said.

  “No doubt,” WolfStar replied.

  “Why train both Axis and Gorgrael?”

  “StarDrifter, you may not believe this but I will tell you anyway. I do not control the Prophecy. I am as much bound to it as any other,” he said, repeating his words of some minutes previously. “But there were some precautions I could take. Believe me, I want Axis to best his brother, and I will do anything I can to assist the Prophecy to reach a successful conclusion. Axis needed to be trained, and I thought it best that I train Gorgrael as well.”

  StarDrifter shifted impatiently, but WolfStar ignored him. “It was best that I mould Gorgrael and, in doing so, I have given him the quality that will enable Axis to defeat him.”

  “What?” Azhure asked sharply, turning her face back to her father.

  “Uncertainty in himself. Already his uncertainty has led him to grievous error. One day, I hope it will prove fatal.”