Starman

by Sara Douglass

  “And we would not like that at all,” said Flulia. “For the God of Song would wield the Dance of Death.”

  “Azhure,” Adamon said, “what you have heard here tonight shall not alter your life very much. But you needed to hear it to grow into your power. Already the Alaunt have sought you out, as has the Wolven. You wear the Circle of Stars, the symbol of unity and completeness—”

  “Which was granted to the Enchantress to wear for her lifetime, but which truly waited for you,” Pors interrupted.

  Azhure shook her head. “No. This cannot be. There have always been the Nine. Always. How can Axis and I now stand forth and claim to be…to be…”

  “Claim to be of the Nine?” Xanon asked. “Those of the Nine have only come together gradually. There was always potential and need for Nine. Gradually the Seven were revealed. But the need for Song and Moon remained. Until now. Soon we will be complete.”

  Azhure laughed softly, but her laughter was brittle. “No, no. No! This is going too far. Two years ago I was a simple peasant girl. Then I became mistress to the StarMan, then his wife and an Icarii Enchanter myself. Now…now you tell me that I am a god.” She paused, her eyes flitting about the group, wanting them to deny her words. But they kept silent. “It is a dizzying journey from the depths. And I do not think I like it.”

  Xanon’s arm tightened about her shoulders. “Azhure, believe me, we were all human or Icarii at one point. All low-born…but all directly descended from the Enchantress. Each of us was Called, and our Calling awakened special powers within us. Low-born,” she repeated, winking at Pors, and the god laughed.

  “I was a simple marsh man, Azhure, seven thousand years ago. I thought my greatest calling was to trap the brown-legged frogs of Bogle Marsh to sell in the marketplaces of western Tencendor. But then…” He shrugged expressively and looked at Flulia.

  “And I a laundress from the town that once stood in the same site as Ysbadd,” she said. “I cared for sheets and starched creases and little else. And yet one day I found that I had a higher Calling. I found it hard to accept.”

  “We all found it hard,” Xanon said, “especially those of us who were Called first. But it was a duty we were born into, destined for, and none of us could deny it.”

  “Azhure, of all the Nine, you have had the highest parentage. WolfStar, a powerful Enchanter-Talon and one of the Lesser. Niah, the First Priestess of the Order of the Stars, whose first duty is always to the Moon.” Adamon sat back a moment and thought. “And you were conceived in the full of the Moon in the Dome of the Stars. How can you doubt your Calling?”

  “You were the last chosen, Azhure. Born some two years after the StarMan and the Destroyer. Thus to you the Circle of Stars has come home. Soon we will be Nine. Soon we will be complete.”

  “But a god?” Azhure’s eyes were still huge, still frightened.

  Adamon reached across and took her hand. “Azhure, you place too much importance on the word ‘god’. We are only creatures of magic and workers of magic. And you have met and accepted many such creatures before. Have you not accepted the Sentinels?” She nodded hesitantly. “And the concept of the Enchanters? WolfStar? Orr? Axis himself?”

  Azhure nodded again, more strongly this time, and Adamon smiled reassuringly at her. “And yet WolfStar has returned from death, and has walked this land for three thousand years. Orr has sat in his ferry for very, very much longer. You welcomed the Alaunt, and yet they are stranger still. You have borne the children of a man who sings with magic. You have taken tea with the Mother and Ur in the Enchanted Wood. Why the difficulty with the concept of ‘god’?”

  “Azhure,” Silton said intensely, “we have our responsibilities, but we do not interfere in the daily lives of men and women. We are creatures of magic, as Adamon has said, except that we exist on a different level than you have encountered previously. Accept.”

  “Immortal?” Azhure whispered.

  Again Pors shrugged. “Who knows?”

  For a long time Azhure sat silently. “Would Axis and I have to, ah, spend our time…here?”

  The Gods looked about at each other, laughing. “Oh, Azhure,” Zest said eventually, “do you think that we sit about these misty chambers and look solemn all day long? No. We meet as a group only occasionally. Now that we are free, we will spend our time as we want. If you and Axis choose to walk Tencendor, then that is what you do. If you wish to live in Sigholt or Carlon, well, that is your right. We all live our lives as we please. Of gods you have had experience only of Artor, and he chose to secrete himself from sight and wrap himself in pretensions. None of us are like that.”

  Such a look of relief crossed Azhure’s face that the gods laughed again, and even the GateKeeper smiled. Azhure finally relaxed enough to grin herself. A worker of magic. Yes, she could accept that. “Then will you show me how to use my power?”

  “Azhure, it will be our pleasure,” Xanon replied. “But you must learn slowly. For now all you need to know is that you do not have to wield or command power as such. You are magic, and eventually your power will come to you instinctively. As your acceptance deepens, so will your ability flower. But we will help.”

  “I don’t have to learn to sing, do I?” Azhure asked with a wry grin, and Adamon patted her hand, restraining his smile.

  “No, but one day you will learn more about the Star Dance than any of the Enchanters who surround you.”

  “And Axis? What can I do for him?”

  “Go to him, Azhure, and we will speak to you on the way,”

  Adamon said. “Teach you. And in turn you must teach Axis, and help him accept, too.”

  “You will grow on the way,” Xanon said in a voice so soft that Azhure barely heard her.

  “We will all see you again, Azhure.” Pors.

  “Soon we will be Nine.” Flulia.

  “Full Circle.” Silton.

  “And now,” Adamon said briskly, standing up, “the sun is ready to rise, and you must return to your children and to StarDrifter, who will have need of your hands if his headache is to be assuaged.”

  Azhure found herself swaying on the steps cut into the cliff-top. Frantically she leaned in towards the cliff face, but then she stopped herself.

  “Instinctive,” she muttered, and let her hands fall to her side.

  Instinctive, the waves sang as the tide surged forward. And Azhure laughed and ran lightly up the steps.

  When she reached the top, WolfStar handed her a warm cloak and hugged her. “I may not see you for a very long time, Azhure, but always remember that I love you.”

  And then he was gone.

  She found StarDrifter, his face contorted in pain, leading a band of worried Priestesses and Icarii towards the cliff. Sicarius bounded ahead, and bayed joyfully when he saw Azhure.

  StarDrifter couldn’t believe his eyes. Azhure had been weak and riddled with pain when last he saw her, but now she almost skipped along, holding a cloak tightly about her, her cheeks flushed with good health and vitality, and her hair streaming out behind her.

  When she reached him she seized his head in her hands, kissed him, and leaned back. “Better?” she asked, her eyes mischievous, and StarDrifter realised his headache had completely disappeared.

  “How?” he asked, but she laughed joyfully again, and took him by the hand.

  “Instinctive!”

  31

  “MAY WE LEARN TO LIVE WITH EACH OTHER”

  Ignoring the others who crowded the dormitory chambers, StarDrifter touched Azhure’s face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “Where did WolfStar take you? What…what has happened to you?” She was different, and StarDrifter could not quite understand what it was. It was not only her renewed health and vigour; something about her had been fundamentally altered.

  Azhure smiled, but she did not answer.

  Power, StarDrifter thought. He could see power dancing in the depths of her eyes, and yet he did not recognise it.

  “I am well, StarDrifter. I can say no
more than that.”

  And she was at peace with herself, StarDrifter suddenly realised. He had never seen Azhure truly at peace with herself before. As well as power, serenity shone forth from her gaze.

  “Ysgryff.” Azhure turned from StarDrifter to her uncle. “I have no time to waste. Are the Icarii scouts close?”

  Ysgryff nodded, then indicated to one of the Icarii crowding the door of the chamber to fetch them. “Azhure—” he began, but she waved him into silence.

  “I have to rejoin Axis,” she said. “Fast. Ysgryff, I need to get to Carlon. Can you have the Seal Hope prepared for boarding in the morning?”

  He nodded, his blue eyes thoughtful.

  “Good. You and I shall leave within two hours for Pirates’ Town. Axis is hurt, crippled, and needs me.”

  There were gasps of horror from those assembled in the room, and Azhure realised that StarDrifter had told no-one about WolfStar’s visit or the information he had brought. She stared levelly at StarDrifter.

  Should we tell them about WolfStar?

  No. StarDrifter shook his head imperceptibly. Best not.

  “A battle,” Azhure said briefly to the others, “at the mouth of the Azle, and Axis lies crippled although he managed to drive back the Skraelings.” She spread her hands apologetically. “It is all I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Can you help him?” FreeFall asked, slipping his arm about EvenSong’s waist. Both looked appalled.

  Azhure smiled. “Yes, I know I can. Ah, here are the farflight scouts.”

  Somehow three of the scouts managed to cram into the already crowded chamber. Azhure took a deep breath and spoke to the first. “How fast can you get to the north of Aldeni?”

  The birdman shrugged. “It depends on the weather above the Western Ranges, Enchantress. Days, many days, at best.”

  “Well, do the best you can. I want this message to get through.”

  “And that message is…?”

  “To Axis, or to Belial. Whichever is capable of understanding it.” Azhure paused, her eyes steady on the birdman’s face. “Tell them that I am coming, and not to commit to any course of action until I reach them.”

  The scout nodded, and slipped from the room. Azhure turned to the other two. “This is the more important task,” she said, her tone low and intense. “This message must succeed. Fly to Talon Spike. Tell RavenCrest to evacuate now. I want every Icarii male, female and child out of that mountain as soon as it can be accomplished, either into the Avarinheim or even further south. Listen to me, for this is important. Those who can’t fly must not go down the ice paths by the Nordra into the Avarinheim. They will have to go down to the waterways and beg, bribe or coerce the Ferryman to take them south. Have you got that? Then repeat it.”

  Azhure waited as the two scouts repeated the message. Stars, she thought dismally, it might take them weeks to get as far as Talon Spike. Weeks.

  “Azhure?” FreeFall’s voice cut across her thoughts. “What’s going on?”

  “Axis’ injury is not the only bad news, FreeFall. Gorgrael has Gryphon…”

  EvenSong paled and shuddered. She would never forget the horror of the Gryphon attack on her Wing.

  Azhure glanced at EvenSong but continued. “Many more than we thought.” Briefly she explained how the Gryphon bred. “The remade dead, fat with child, will birth abomination,” she quoted from the Prophecy, her mouth twisting, “and I fear that Gorgrael will not be able to resist throwing them at Talon Spike.”

  “The mountain is almost defenceless,” EvenSong whispered, and Azhure nodded.

  “It is too open, too vulnerable.”

  FreeFall blanched. As yet the majority of the Icarii were still in Talon Spike. “Pray they get out in time,” he said.

  “Can we do nothing?” asked EvenSong.

  “Not at the moment,” Azhure replied. “Nothing but pray. Once I have got to the north, well, then we’ll see.” She glanced at the scouts, still waiting by the doorway, their eyes horrified by what they had heard. “Go,” she said. “Fly!” and in a heartbeat the scouts had squeezed out the door. Fly!

  StarDrifter stepped forward and touched Azhure’s arm. He desperately wanted to speak to her alone and only barely restrained himself from shouting at the others to leave the room. “Azhure, what can I do?”

  Azhure turned and hugged him. “You have already done more than you realise, StarDrifter. Stay here. Ensure that the Temple continues to shine forth. Revere the gods.”

  Azhure…

  I know, StarDrifter. Later. We will speak later.

  “And now,” she said softly, her eyes shifting to the closed door that led to her private chambers. “I must speak to my children.”

  The room was quiet and still, and Azhure threw her cloak to one side as she crossed to Caelum asleep on a cot under the window. His eyes were screwed shut as if concentrating on a particularly appealing dream, one fat fist tangled in his black curls, the other lying relaxed and open across his coverlet.

  “Caelum,” she whispered, and bent down to pick him up.

  Mama? Mama! You are well!

  Better than I’ve ever been, Caelum.

  Fully awake now, Caelum switched to his speaking voice. “Papa?” he whispered, remembering the events of the previous day.

  Azhure laughed, the sound rich and startling in the still chamber. “Papa lives, my darling! And your brother and sister have joined us.” She glanced over to the twin cribs set carefully to one side of the fire, but she did not move for the moment.

  Caelum’s eyes widened and he turned his head. “Where?”

  Azhure smiled and stroked his cheek, putting off the moment when she would have to walk over to the cribs. “It has been a long night, my love. Your mother has seen and heard many strange things.”

  Caelum’s head twisted back to Azhure and he stared into her eyes. Carefully he raised one hand, although he did not touch her. Strange things shine in your eyes, Mama.

  “And one day,” she whispered against his cheek, “I may tell you about them. Now, shall we welcome your brother and sister into the House of the Stars?”

  Slowly she walked over to the cribs. She could feel that both babies were awake and waiting. She took a deep angry breath, remembering the pain—agony—both had caused her. She had not given birth; they had torn themselves from her.

  But she was well now, and perhaps neither expected that. And she was more than just Azhure now, and certainly neither would expect that.

  She halted by the first crib and looked down, her face expressionless, her eyes composed.

  The baby lay on her back. She had kicked back the coverlet and was waving both arms and legs about. She stilled as soon as she saw her mother.

  Her daughter. Azhure had always wanted a daughter, hoping to somehow recreate with her the relationship she’d shared with her own mother. But that would never be possible with this baby. Never.

  She shifted Caelum to one hip and reached down and touched the baby’s cheek softly.

  The baby’s violet eyes followed her mother’s hand; almost twelve hours old, her Icarii eyes could focus in sharp detail, and Azhure knew her mind was as sharp as her eyes.

  Despite herself Azhure smiled. The baby’s skin was softer than down, the crown of her head covered with tiny golden curls. She had EvenSong’s colouring, Azhure saw, and her fingers ran back through her daughter’s fine hair.

  The baby twisted her head away and Azhure’s eyes hardened. She took another deep breath, composed herself, touched her fingers to her own lips, and then laid them on the baby’s brow.

  “Welcome, RiverStar SunSoar, into the House of the Stars. My name is Azhure, and I am your mother.” Azhure halted, biting down the harsh words that threatened. “And I hope that one day we can learn to love each other.” There was not much else to say.

  RiverStar. StarDrifter had chosen a beautiful name, and a peculiarly peaceful name, for a child who had caused her parents so much distress. Perhaps he had felt something in the ch
ild that was as yet hidden from Azhure. “I hope you will grow into your name, RiverStar,” she said briefly, then lowered Caelum so that he could touch his sister’s face in greeting.

  “Come,” she said as she lifted him back into her arms. “There is still your brother.”

  Azhure had to steady herself before she looked down into the second crib. It was the boy who had generated much of the hostility, who had forced the birth, who had begun the horror and then encouraged his sister in it. She did not know if she could even regard him with equanimity. Even now she could feel resentment rising like a thick cloud from the crib.

  Caelum pressed closer into her body, and Azhure smiled briefly at him, loving him for the comfort he gave her.

  Then she looked down.

  Her second son had WolfStar’s colouring. A profusion of dark copper curls covered his head, and his eyes, wide and hostile, were the deepest violet Azhure had yet seen in an Icarii.

  DragonStar. Azhure had been rocked by the name StarDrifter had chosen, although, gazing at the boy she knew why. He was powerful, very powerful, and would come into more power. Yet DragonStar was a name that boded only ill.

  Caelum trembled, and Azhure hugged him closer. Slowly she lowered her hand into the crib but before she could touch the boy’s face he grabbed her forefinger with his own fingers.

  Azhure took a quick breath. The boy’s fingers squeezed painfully around her own, and his eyes narrowed.

  Suddenly Azhure’s temper snapped. She had fought long and hard to keep these babies, and if she chose to love Axis despite the wrong he had done her, then that was her business and no-one else’s.

  “Wretch,” she muttered, and sent a wave of stinging rebuke coursing towards the baby.

  He let her finger go with a squeak of surprise and, Azhure hoped, a modicum of discomfiture. She placed her fingers on his brow. “Welcome, DragonStar SunSoar, into the House of Stars. My name is Azhure, and I am your mother…and I am far more than I think you have bargained on. I hope that we may learn to respect and live with each other.”