Enchanter

by Sara Douglass

  Azhure clapped her hand to her mouth to hide her grin, and her eyes met those of a jubilant EvenSong. The Icarii woman’s eyes glittered with pride, and she did not look the least bit sorry that she had destroyed Edowes’ hopes of enjoying the young Skarabost woman he had been courting for several weeks to come.

  SpikeFeather slapped EvenSong on the back before offering her his hand. “I am heartily glad you never thought of that manoeuvre while practising with me, EvenSong,” he laughed. He turned to Arne. “You owe me a jug of Reinald’s spiced wine, I believe, Arne. I look forward to enjoying it with my evening meal.”

  As the watchers gradually dissipated, Azhure and EvenSong walked slowly across the practice field bordering the Lake of Life. The Keep glistened silvery grey in the sun, for the warmth of the Lake of Life kept Sigholt and its immediate environs free of Gorgrael’s clouds.

  “Well done,” Azhure congratulated EvenSong. “Did you notice how all the men blanched as you struck home?”

  EvenSong laughed breathlessly, still winded after her exertions. “I hope I have not wounded him permanently.”

  “Oh, I am sure he will recover to father his share of children,” Azhure said lightly. Azhure was now well into her pregnancy and her abdomen protruded gently beneath her tunic. Belial had forbidden her to take part in hand-to-hand combat sessions, although Azhure still trained with her archers—six squads now, over two hundred men—and occasionally went out on patrol. She had returned only last night from leading a four-day patrol into the northern Urqhart Hills. Azhure was well respected among both Icarii and Acharites, and only rarely was her womanhood or her pregnancy commented upon.

  As Azhure lapsed into silence, EvenSong sensed there was something troubling her and slid her arm about Azhure’s shoulders. “What is it?” she asked.

  Azhure took a deep and shaky breath, placing both her hands over her belly. “The baby has hardly moved, EvenSong. Sometimes I lie a-bed at night and all I feel is this weight in my belly, and I wonder if the baby is still alive. I should have felt it move weeks ago.”

  “You are a silly!” EvenSong laughed, relieved. “If you had asked either Rivkah or myself we could have told you what the problem is.”

  Azhure stopped. “You know what’s wrong?”

  “Azhure. The child you carry is part Icarii. All Icarii babes sleep in the womb until their father awakens them. Azhure, your baby is perfectly all right—awake or not, it will grow and develop normally. Once Axis arrives he can awaken it. Apparently it is the most exquisite feeling, to feel the babe awaken at the sound of its father’s voice.”

  Azhure’s shoulders relaxed under EvenSong’s arm. “I was so worried,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I thought that perhaps I had harmed it.” A frown creased her forehead again. “But already I am five months pregnant. When should Icarii fathers sing to their children? Is it too late? And what if Axis doesn’t arrive before it is born?”

  “Azhure, calm down,” EvenSong said. “It is best that Axis be here for the baby’s birth. But it has been known for a baby to be born without being awakened by its father, and even then, the baby was perfectly normal.”

  Azhure’s shoulders relaxed totally and she dropped her hands from her belly. Embarrassed by her show of vulnerability, she turned the conversation to combat and commands. “How are the Icarii coping with their quarters?” No-one had been too sure what the Icarii—used to the luxury of Talon Spike—would think of the tents they were housed in.

  “The Icarii would sleep wrapped in their wings on the cold ground if they thought it was needed to win themselves Tencendor again,” EvenSong reassured her. “We are fine. Do not worry about us.”

  The other worry Azhure, Belial and Magariz had harboured was the reception of the Icarii by the Skarabost villagers at Sigholt. But this had proved no problem at all. For the Acharites camped in tents and rudimentary huts about the shores of the Lake of Life, the arrival of the magical Icarii simply reinforced their belief that they had done the right thing in following the call of the Prophecy. Obviously the StarMan, if not actually here himself yet, would prove a hero of legend if these mythical creatures had left their mountain home to follow him. The teachings of the Seneschal seemed to be rapidly fading from their minds.

  Dominating everyone’s thoughts was the anxious wait for Axis. Azhure, though sure she had made the right decision in refusing Belial’s proposal, increasingly worried about what she could expect from Axis. She still sometimes had the lingering fear that he would take the baby from her and give it to Faraday. Although consciously she realised it was a groundless fear—Axis would never do such a thing—at night it sometimes caused her nightmares.

  “Azhure!” EvenSong cried at her side. “Look! My father and grandmother arrive!”

  Azhure squinted in the direction EvenSong pointed, but she could see nothing save some black spots in the clouds far to the north.

  “Come,” EvenSong caught at Azhure’s arm and dragged her around the moat of Sigholt towards the bridge, “they’ll land on the roof. Come! Hurry!”

  Magariz had been alerted to the Icarii arrival and now stood on the roof of the Keep. He heard a movement behind him and Rivkah stepped to his side. He smiled at her, delighted. He remembered how beautiful she had been as a teenager in Carlon. Then her hair was deep auburn, her face always mischievous, always alive with humour and love of life.

  That had been before her father had arranged her marriage to Searlas, Duke of Ichtar, which had almost broken Rivkah’s spirit. Still handsome more than thirty years on, Rivkah was more introspective. Her humour was still there, but more restrained. How strange, thought Magariz, that they should be here now in these circumstances.

  Busy as both were, Magariz had not yet had a chance to speak to Rivkah privately since her arrival at Sigholt.

  Now Rivkah noticed him looking at her. She reached out and touched his hand where it lay on the grey stonework.

  Magariz turned his eyes back to the approaching Icarii. Among them would be Rivkah’s former husband, the man for whom she had betrayed Searlas.

  “Did he ever know?” Magariz asked very quietly, so that the other Icarii waiting on the roof might not hear. He was not referring to StarDrifter but to Searlas, Rivkah’s previous husband.

  “No,” Rivkah whispered. “No. He never suspected.”

  Magariz’s hands relaxed on the stones. “I worried for you,” he said, and tears sprang to Rivkah’s eyes.

  “And I for you.” She blinked back her tears and noticed FarSight had just arrived on the roof. “I am glad this will be the last flight for a while,” Rivkah said brightly, “for I do not know where we would have put any more. As it is, we shall have to share apartments.”

  FarSight’s perceptive black eyes picked up Rivkah’s discomposure, but assumed it was because StarDrifter was arriving. It must be hard for them, he surmised, to be constantly thrown together this way before they have learned to rebuild their lives apart.

  As the approaching Icarii closed, the bridge threw out her challenge. All of the Acharites had been stunned to learn that the bridge not only challenged those on foot, but also those who approached Sigholt from the air. “What would she do if one of the approaching Icarii failed the test?” Belial had asked Veremund when he heard the bridge challenge the first Icarii flight. “Well, Belial,” Veremund had answered, “if any fail the test then I guess we will find out, won’t we?”

  But none had ever failed the test, and none failed now. StarDrifter, his mother and the other Icarii with them landed on the roof of Sigholt, all obviously excited by the Lake and the change in the Keep.

  “It’s wondrous!” MorningStar cried, as she kissed Rivkah in welcome. “It is so beautiful!” Indeed, in the months since the Lake had refilled, the greenery had spread over all the hills closest to Sigholt, and the Keep and its environs were like an oasis. Now tree ferns as tall as a man grew down most of the closest slopes, and flowers, creeping shrubs, wild roses and gorse bushes covered th
e hills further away. Sigholt was turning into a garden.

  “One day all Tencendor will reawaken like this,” said StarDrifter, his eyes on Rivkah. As they kissed briefly, dispassionately, both could not help but remember those days when it seemed as if the world were theirs.

  Magariz’s mouth twisted as he watched StarDrifter greet Rivkah, then he stepped forward to formally welcome the Icarii. So this was the Icarii Enchanter who had stolen Rivkah from Searlas, and now, so carelessly, had let go. Well, you ageing fool, he thought, you let her go thirty-two years ago. Do not think to criticise StarDrifter for failings you are guilty of yourself.

  Magariz’s courtly greeting and gracious manners impressed the Icarii, and StarDrifter wondered—as so many others had—how this man had come to serve Borneheld for so long.

  As Rivkah started to explain the increasingly crowded living arrangements in Sigholt, EvenSong burst through the staircase doorway, dragging Azhure with her.

  “Father!” she cried, delighted, and StarDrifter stepped forward to hug her. EvenSong looked happier than he had seen her at any time since FreeFall’s death. “Greet your grandmother,” he said, his eyes hunting Azhure. He had not ceased thinking about her in the months they had been apart.

  The instant he saw her the world stilled about him.

  “Welcome, StarDrifter,” Azhure said awkwardly, aware of StarDrifter’s face as he stared at her rounded stomach.

  Rivkah stepped forward and took StarDrifter by the elbow. “Look, StarDrifter, isn’t it wonderful?” she exclaimed, a little too artificially. “Azhure and Axis are going to make us grandparents.”

  MorningStar brushed past them. “Well,” she said, her voice studiously casual, “a Beltide baby, StarDrifter. What do you make of that?”

  She reached out for Azhure’s arm, but Azhure took several rapid steps backwards. She knew the ancient tradition of both Icarii and Avar peoples—a baby conceived of Wing and Horn at Beltide should never be carried to term. One year an Avar woman had ignored that ancient tradition, and the baby she had conceived with StarDrifter was Gorgrael.

  “I am not Avar!” Azhure said, determined to fight for her baby’s life if she had to. “Do not try to take this baby from me!”

  “Do not fear,” MorningStar said. “I merely wanted to…”

  She got no further. At Azhure’s cry, a huge hound leapt from the shadows of the doorwell and seized MorningStar by the wrist, breaking her skin but not crushing the bone.

  “The Stars save me!” she cried, “it is an Alaunt!”

  A savage growl rumbling deep in his throat, Sicarius twisted his head a little and MorningStar whimpered in pain and sank to her knees.

  “Azhure!” StarDrifter shouted. “Call the Alaunt off!”

  Azhure hesitated, then motioned with her hand. Sicarius dropped MorningStar’s wrist and backed off to stand by Azhure’s side. He continued to snarl at both MorningStar and StarDrifter, his hackles stiff and aggressive.

  “No-one harms my baby,” Azhure said into the shocked silence of the rooftop. “No-one.”

  “I did not mean to harm your baby,” MorningStar grated, clutching her bloody wrist to her breast. “Not only is that your baby, but it is a SunSoar, possibly an Enchanter, and it is my great-grandchild! I would not harm it!”

  StarDrifter helped his mother to her feet, but his eyes were on Azhure. “Neither MorningStar nor myself wish the baby harm. On the contrary.”

  Azhure nodded stiffly. “MorningStar, I apologise for Sicarius’ actions.” Both MorningStar and StarDrifter winced at the naming of the hound. “He only wanted to protect me.” She stepped forward and took MorningStar’s wrist. “Come below and I will wash and bind it for you. These marks will scab in a day and be gone in a week.”

  As she led MorningStar and StarDrifter below, Magariz and the other Icarii on the rooftop let loose a collective sigh of relief. FarSight raised his eyebrows at Magariz. “A poor welcome for MorningStar.”

  “If you knew how much Azhure wants that baby then you would only be surprised she did not set Sicarius to MorningStar’s throat,” Magariz said quietly.

  Azhure washed and bandaged MorningStar’s wrist as StarDrifter sat on the side of the bed. His eyes lingered on Azhure’s belly. He had no doubts she carried an Enchanter. Who would sing to the unborn baby if Axis didn’t get here in time? His fingers twitched.

  At their feet Sicarius stirred, and StarDrifter blinked.

  “Where did the Alaunt come from, Azhure?” he asked.

  Azhure paused in her bandaging. “The Alaunt? When Ogden, Veremund, Rivkah and I crossed the WildDog Plains they surrounded us one night. We thought they would attack, but instead they bound themselves to me. They have proved good companions.”

  MorningStar and StarDrifter glanced at each other. WolfStar’s hounds? To the woman who carried his bow?

  MorningStar also knew the attraction Azhure had for both StarDrifter and Axis, and wondered further.

  28

  THE GATEKEEPER

  “No-one returns from the dead!” cried Orr.

  “WolfStar did!” Axis retorted. “Will you help me with this or not?”

  “You could kill yourself if you attempt to do this,” Orr said, regaining composure. “You do not know the ways.”

  “I can read the ring,” Axis said quietly. “The ring will show me the way. I have a purpose. It will show me the Song.”

  Orr shook his head. “There is not a Song for every purpose, I told you that. You said you promised FreeFall you would bring him back. When? Under what circumstances?”

  Axis related how FreeFall had died on the rooftop of the Keep at Gorkenfort, killed by Borneheld’s traitorous sword. “As he collapsed in my arms, FreeFall told me to seek out StarDrifter. Then he said something strange. He said, ‘The Ferryman owes you, Axis. Learn the secrets and the mysteries of the waterways and bring me home! I will wait at the Gate. Bring me home to EvenSong! Promise!’ ”

  “EvenSong?” Orr queried.

  “FreeFall’s cousin and lover. And my sister. They were to have married.”

  Orr repressed a smile. “Ah yes, I had forgotten the SunSoar attraction each to the other. And you promised to do this?”

  Axis nodded. “He was dying, and he was dying on my account.”

  “Did you know to what he referred?”

  “No. I had not met my father then, and I was only groping at the very edges of my powers. I had no idea what the Gate was, or the waterways.” He paused. “Even now I do not quite know what FreeFall meant by ‘the Gate’. Did he mean the Star Gate here?”

  Axis and Orr stood close to one of the archways of the Chamber of the Star Gate, near where they had originally entered.

  Orr folded his arms inside his cloak and stood deep in thought for long minutes. Just as Axis was about to speak again, Orr raised his head. His violet eyes were almost completely drained of colour and were now dead, soulless. “FreeFall should not have known of the Gate. No Icarii, Enchanter or not, knows of the Gate. No-one. Explain, Axis, how FreeFall could have known about it.” His voice was as cold and colourless as his eyes.

  Axis was unsure what to say. Why was Orr so upset? “FreeFall spoke those words with his last breath, Orr.” Axis’ own voice slowed and he returned the Ferryman’s stare without blinking. “Perhaps his soul already stood before this ‘Gate’. If you want an explanation then that is the only one I can give you. FreeFall knew what the Gate was because he already stood before it.”

  Orr nodded. “It is the only explanation.” He sighed, and the violet slowly started to filter back into his eyes. “And you promised, not knowing what it was you promised. Axis,” Orr took Axis’ arm, and led him through the archway and down the dim corridor towards the boat. “The Gate is one of the deepest mysteries that the Charonites know of, if not the deepest. If I take you there, you must promise never, never,” he almost spat the word, “to tell another living soul, not even family.”

  Axis steadied the boat as Orr stepped in. “I
promise,” he said, and climbed in behind Orr, settling himself in the prow of the boat.

  “Hmm.” The Ferryman raised his hood, something Axis had never seen him do. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.”

  Orr arranged his cloak neatly. “Well, I can take you to the Gate, Axis SunSoar, and well might FreeFall wait there for you. But you will have to convince the GateKeeper. She is the only one who can free a soul back to life—and I have never known her to do it yet. Now, speak only when I tell you to, and touch nothing.”

  The boat slowly started to move, and for a while they passed along normal waterways. The stars sparkled within the green water, and the smooth tunnel walls alternated with great grey caverns as they floated along. But suddenly, so suddenly he was not aware of the transition, Axis realised that they were moving across a vast expanse of dull black water—no stars shone within its depths. There were no walls, no roof at all that Axis could see. They just drifted through a vast sea of blackness, above and below, only the sound of the boat skimming through the water reassuring Axis that they still sailed rather than flew.

  A strange pale shape off one side of the boat caught Axis’ eye. It was a weeping young woman, carrying a tiny baby. Both the woman and the baby were mist-like, insubstantial, gliding only a handspan above the water. Behind the woman came another shape, but Axis could not see whether it was male or female.

  “We travel the River of Death,” Orr said. “If you touch the water, you will die.”

  Startled, Axis placed his hands firmly in his lap. He looked again at the woman and baby.

  “She died in birth,” Orr said, “and she cries for the life that was denied her and her baby.” He paused. “On the night Gorkentown fell and Yuletide was attacked, the river was crowded with souls—Icarii, Avar, and Acharites.”

  Axis raised his eyes in unspoken query.

  “Yes, Axis. All travel the River of Death, even Skraelings. Death makes brothers and comrades of all.”