Enchanter

by Sara Douglass

  There was silence about the table. After a moment Axis shook his head. “Well, FarSight, your Strike Force should be worth five men each. At least Borneheld has not taken to the air yet—unless there is still more bad news, Magariz?”

  Magariz laughed, relieving some of the tension in the room. “No, Axis, Borneheld is still ground-bound. The Strike Force will go far towards evening out our chances.”

  Axis nodded. “Then I had better announce my arrival. Shall I stand atop Sigholt and shout it for all to hear?”

  “No,” Azhure said softly. “I have a better way.”

  Axis met StarDrifter and MorningStar outside the map-room. As Azhure brushed past, StarDrifter raised his eyebrows.

  “A son,” Axis said. “And an Enchanter.”

  StarDrifter’s eyes glinted. “I knew she would breed powerful Enchanters, Axis.”

  “I do not think of her as a brood mare, StarDrifter,” Axis snapped. “She is Azhure, and I value her as much in her own right as I do for being the mother of my son.” He wheeled away and followed Azhure down the corridor.

  StarDrifter watched them go, still bitter and resentful that Azhure had chosen Axis that night, then hurried after them.

  As the SunSoars and a group of commanders gathered on the roof of the Keep, Rivkah handed a bundle to Azhure.

  “Axis,” Azhure said, “over the past months Rivkah and myself have worked on this whenever we had time. Arne?”

  Arne, obviously forewarned, took the bundle from Azhure and walked over to the empty flagpole.

  “Now you are here in residence,” Azhure said, “let all know it,” and she turned to Arne.

  Axis watched Arne unfold the deep gold material, then his eyes caught Azhure’s. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  As Arne raised Axis SunSoar’s standard, the breeze caught the fabric and it unfurled in a shimmer of light. As the golden tunic Azhure had wrought for Axis, so his standard—the deep gold field with the blood-red sun blazing in the centre. All stood and watched it whip and crack in the sun.

  “The command is yours, Axis,” Belial said formally. “I have done my best. Now it is yours to do your best with.”

  Trying to control his emotions, Axis strode to the wall and gazed over the valley. He could hardly reconcile what he saw there with the Sigholt of before. The Lake of Life had truly lived up to her name, and now new life bloomed all about the Lake and Keep. Late summer roses were even starting to crawl up the silvery walls of the Keep. Sigholt was truly alive.

  He looked closely at the camps spreading around the edge of the Lake, then at the practice fields where units were engaged in their mid-morning combat training. Eventually, more and more of them noticed the standard high above their heads, and eventually they fell still. Axis raised a hand, and a faint cheer reached his ears.

  “I cannot wait to begin, my friends, but there is one more thing I must do before I rejoin my command.” Axis gave a single sharp whistle, and stared into the sun.

  “What are you doing?” asked StarDrifter.

  “I await my wings,” Axis replied, motioning for silence.

  All eyes turned to the sun.

  Very slowly—and the Icarii with their extraordinary vision were the first to see it—a black spot spiralled out of the sun.

  He spiralled down out of the sun, escaping its blazing fury. He was alive and he rejoiced in that life, although he had no memory of the state of death or of his previous life. He simply rejoiced in the freedom of the unlimited sky and the heat of the sun on his wingbacks as he plummeted further and further down to the green and blue earth below him.

  Gradually he realised he had to go somewhere, meet someone. He pulled himself out of his crazy dive and scanned the earth below. The glint of the Lake and silver grey of the Keep caught his eye, and he soared in a gigantic loop above them. An exultant scream left his throat.

  All below heard the eagle’s cry and watched as it tipped its wings and drifted towards Axis. He laughed in sheer delight and extended his left arm, whistling once more.

  In a flurry of white and silver feathers the eagle landed on his arm, both fighting for a moment to keep their balance.

  StarDrifter stared in amazement. No-one had ever tamed a snow eagle previously. And this was half as large again as most snow eagles, though coloured like all its kind with white and silver feathers, and black eyes, beak and talons.

  “Axis?” MorningStar finally managed to ask.

  “He is my eyes in the sky, my wings, my voice as I need a voice,” said Axis, explaining nothing at all. “He is a gift from the UnderWorld.”

  Everyone looked at each other in confusion.

  31

  WOLFSTAR’S STORY

  As the eagle preened itself on the parapet wall, Axis asked for time to speak to MorningStar and his parents privately. He touched Azhure’s cheek as she turned to go; the gesture was lost on none.

  “Gather the unit and Wing commanders in the courtyard after noon,” Axis told Belial, “and I will address them there. Arne. A word?” Arne paused, listened to Axis, and nodded briefly.

  Soon the rooftop was empty save for the three Icarii Enchanters and Rivkah.

  “And what secrets did you learn from the Ferryman?” StarDrifter asked eagerly.

  “Many secrets, StarDrifter, and most I have promised not to reveal.”

  StarDrifter’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Are they so terrible?”

  “No. They are quite simple. But I vowed not to reveal them, and I will not. However,” Axis paused and scratched the eagle under its beak, “what I can tell you is terrible enough.”

  MorningStar walked over to her grandson. “What?”

  Axis sighed, and all noted how tight and tense the skin was under his eyes. “In Talon Spike, MorningStar, you theorised that there was another SunSoar Enchanter, an Enchanter who, for his or her own purposes, had taught both myself and Gorgrael.”

  MorningStar nodded. “Yes?”

  “I can now tell you who it is.”

  Both StarDrifter and his mother visibly tensed. Who?

  “It is WolfStar SunSoar, come back through the Star Gate.”

  StarDrifter and MorningStar paled in shock, unable to say anything. Rivkah shook her head. Of all Enchanter-Talons to step back through the Star Gate, it had to be WolfStar. What had the Icarii done to deserve this?

  Steps sounded in the stairwell and MorningStar and StarDrifter jumped nervously.

  “I asked Arne to send the Sentinels up,” Axis explained. “Perhaps they can help explain what WolfStar might want, why he came back.”

  “Axis? What is it?” Ogden asked, noting the tension.

  Briefly Axis told the Sentinels about WolfStar’s return.

  “WolfStar!” Veremund muttered. “But Axis, why are you so sure?”

  Axis related how he had discovered the illusion of WolfStar’s statue in the Chamber of the Star Gate, and how the Ferryman—Axis did not give them his name—had realised WolfStar had come back through the Star Gate. He paused and looked around. “It is more than time you told me WolfStar’s story, and explained why you fear WolfStar so much. I need to know why he has come back.”

  “It would sicken me to tell the entire tale,” MorningStar said. “Veremund? Will you speak of WolfStar?”

  Veremund nodded. “WolfStar’s story belongs to a lost world, Axis, a world of four thousand years ago. WolfStar was a remarkable Icarii Enchanter who, at the extraordinary age of only ninety-one, succeeded as Talon of Tencendor.”

  “There was always rumour about his succession at such an early age,” Ogden interrupted. “His father was young and fit, only some two hundred years old, and should have lived hundreds more years. But…”

  “He fell out of the sky one fine afternoon,” MorningStar finished for him. “And no-one claimed the arrow that feathered from his chest.”

  “Murder, or accident?” Veremund mused. “Who knows? WolfStar had an alibi—he was in council with several of the Crest-Leaders at the
time—but it was rumoured and is now generally believed that he planned, if not executed, the murder of his own father.”

  “He wanted the throne. Badly,” Jack said, gazing out across the Urqhart Hills so none could see his face.

  “Yes. He wanted the throne badly, Jack.” Veremund sounded annoyed at the constant interruptions. “WolfStar, ever since he was a flightless child, had been fascinated by the Star Gate. Access to the Star Gate was much more open then, although only a Talon and his heir were allowed completely free use of it. WolfStar would spend hours, sometimes days, simply staring into the Gate. He was consumed with the idea that the universe contained other worlds.”

  Axis looked up in surprise. Other worlds? The thought had never occurred to him, but now he felt a tug of curiosity.

  “Other worlds,” Veremund repeated. “WolfStar surmised that each sun was paired with a world, perhaps like ours, that circled it, as ours does. He looked at the multitude of stars in the universe, and surmised that a multitude of worlds also existed.”

  “Crazy,” StarDrifter muttered.

  “For years WolfStar had lived with his obsession, and then, suddenly, he was Talon. Now he felt he could do something about it. The Icarii had long talked about the possibility that someone could step through the Star Gate, and survive to step back through it.” Veremund laughed quietly. “But who would be the first to try? One day WolfStar approached the Assembly and asked permission to send an Icarii child, one with Enchanter talent, through the Gate. He claimed it was better to waste the life of a child, if waste it would be, than the life of a fully trained Enchanter.”

  There was horrified silence around the rooftop, as there had been in the Icarii Assembly that long-distant day.

  “The Assembly, as you might expect, refused WolfStar permission to so sacrifice one of their children.” Now Veremund was almost whispering. “But WolfStar’s obsession was consuming him, and perhaps now he was slightly mad. He was determined to step through the Star Gate and explore other worlds, but he also wanted to be able to step back into this one. And he needed to know he could step back. One day a young Icarii child, only fourteen years, went out flying and never returned. He was mourned; it was believed that perhaps he had suffered a fatal wing cramp while flying. But then, a few weeks later, another child disappeared, and then another. Then someone realised that all three had possessed Enchanter powers. And then someone accused WolfStar of child murder.

  Veremund paused for breath. “WolfStar, defiant and very sure of his own powers, said that it was not murder, but necessary experiment. The secrets of the Star Gate must be solved. He asked what would happen if one day a race from another world wanted to invade our world through the Star Gate? What would happen if someone else, something else, discovered the secrets of the Star Gate, and Gates like it, before he did?”

  Axis rocked on his feet at the idea. WolfStar’s methods may have been appalling, but were his concerns so crazy as the others seemed to think? He started to speak, but Veremund continued.

  “WolfStar claimed it would only be a matter of time before one did come back. Dear ones, WolfStar was an Enchanter-Talon, and he was very powerful. Far from feeling remorse for the three children he had murdered to this point, WolfStar produced a roster of children, all with Enchanter powers, whom he proposed to send through the Star Gate one by one until he found one who could come back.”

  Bile rose in Axis’ throat as he thought of his own son growing safe in Azhure’s womb. How would he have felt, sitting among the Icarii, listening to his child’s name read out by WolfStar as the fifth, or sixth, or twenty-sixth child to be sacrificed to the Enchanter-Talon’s mad obsession?

  “As I said, WolfStar was powerful, very powerful, and by now none dared challenge him. All, I suppose, hoped that a child before theirs would be the one to come back.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Axis whispered. “They let their children be murdered? How could they? How many?”

  “He sent a further two hundred and seven children tumbling to their deaths in the Star Gate, Axis,” said Veremund. “Some only as old as three or four, the oldest about sixteen. He sent his own niece, daughter of his younger brother. He sent,” and Veremund almost did not say this, knowing how much it would pain those listening, “he toppled his own wife, heavy with child, through the Gate.”

  Axis went as white as the snow eagle. “Why?”

  “Because WolfStar thought his wife’s body might serve as some protection for the child within. WolfStar knew his wife carried an extraordinarily talented child, and he hoped the unborn child might be able to succeed where other children had failed. It was a procession of death, Axis. The Icarii parents wept and grieved and lamented, but still they brought their children to the Star Gate as WolfStar demanded.”

  “Part of the reason why the Icarii are so sensitive about WolfStar,” MorningStar explained brokenly, “was that our ancestors did not try to stop him. Virtually an entire generation of Enchanters was lost.”

  Veremund was glad the tale was almost at its end. “WolfStar almost crippled the Icarii race with his obsession. So many died, and those left were emotionally and mentally scarred. Many parents who had lost children threw themselves from high rocks in their grief, dashing themselves to death on the hard earth.”

  “And did WolfStar discover the secret, Veremund? Was all this sacrifice worth it?” Axis asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. He was descended of such mad blood?

  “No. None ever came back. WolfStar would stand on the lip of the Star Gate and scream abuse at the children who had gone through, scream at them to take their courage in their hands and make the effort to come back.”

  “Why didn’t someone push the murderer through the Star Gate himself?” Axis demanded.

  “It took WolfStar’s younger brother, CloudBurst SunSoar, who had watched his own daughter scream as WolfStar hurled her into the Star Gate, to put an end to his brother’s murderous ways,” said Veremund. “One day in Assembly, CloudBurst simply walked up behind his brother, and stabbed him. Just once, but it was a fatal blow.”

  “That was the only way the SunSoars managed to salvage their self-respect, Axis,” MorningStar said. Her face was pale and lined. “CloudBurst managed to save both the SunSoars and the Icarii people. He took the Talon throne and stopped the murders, but the scars remain.”

  “We so rarely speak of WolfStar,” StarDrifter explained, “because of our deep shame.”

  MorningStar’s mouth twisted. “The murder of so many children was not WolfStar’s only crime. He was guilty of many other crimes against the Icarii People…”

  “He stole the Enchantress’ ring,” interrupted StarDrifter, and Axis jumped a little guiltily. He fingered the pocket where he’d secreted the ring.

  “…but the children’s murder was one that the Icarii have never, never forgotten,” MorningStar finished. “What is an ancient ring, even one so precious, when compared to so many wasted lives?”

  “And now WolfStar is back,” Axis mused. No wonder the Ferryman had reacted with such horror. “He learned the secrets of the Star Gate, and now he has stepped back through. All right. Why? Jack? Do you have any idea why WolfStar has come back?”

  Jack had been very quiet as the horrific tale unfolded. Now he faced Axis, composed, his green eyes tranquil and steady. “No. I have no idea.”

  Axis looked inquiringly at the other two Sentinels, and then to his father and grandmother. “Anyone?”

  All shook their heads.

  Axis studied the blank faces carefully. Why did he feel as though someone on this rooftop knew precisely why WolfStar had come back through the Star Gate?

  “Well then, if we cannot know precisely the reason why WolfStar has come back, does anyone know how long he has been back?”

  Again everyone shook their heads. Axis gestured with impatience. Someone must know something! “If WolfStar has been back some time, he would have to protect himself against discovery. He would not want people to know. And yet
the Icarii, as others, perhaps,” he glanced at Jack, “were still using the Star Gate until a thousand years ago. MorningStar, Veremund, how long has the tradition of not touching any of the statues been around?”

  It was Jack who answered. “Three thousand years.”

  Axis took a horrified step backwards. “Three thousand years? He has been back three thousand years? What mischief could WolfStar have got up to in three thousand years?”

  “Surely,” StarDrifter said irritably, “the more pertinent point is, where is WolfStar now? And what disguise does he wear?”

  “What disguise does WolfStar wear?” Axis said. “I don’t know. I know I am not WolfStar, but any of you here could be. How can I know? WolfStar must be a master of disguise.”

  Eyes and mouths opened in horror and indignation. “Us?” Ogden spluttered. “But we are the Sentinels! It cannot be us!”

  Ogden’s indignation was nothing to MorningStar’s and StarDrifter’s angry and resentful denials. Harsh words were shouted.

  “Peace!” Axis said, holding up his hands. “Do you think if I seriously thought any of you might be WolfStar I would have actually approached you with what I know? But I cannot know for sure. It could be anyone, and,” he stumbled, “and the third verse of the Prophecy warns me that I have a traitor within my camp, someone who will betray me to Gorgrael. Who else could that be except WolfStar? Where is he? Where?”

  “I fear I might know,” MorningStar said very, very quietly, almost too afraid to speak.

  Axis whipped around. “Who?”

  “Too much of WolfStar is resurfacing, Axis, and it is resurfacing about one person. Azhure.”

  “No!” Axis and StarDrifter exclaimed together, and Rivkah cried out softly in denial as well. “No! It cannot be!”

  “Think!” MorningStar hissed. “The scars on her back, as if someone has ripped out Icarii wings.”

  “No,” StarDrifter said. “If WolfStar assumed the form of a woman—and a woman who can fall pregnant—then he would be able to assume the form of a smooth-backed woman. Mother, be sensible.”