Sinner

by Sara Douglass

  As always he was dressed entirely in black, save for a golden sun that blazed from the centre panel of his tunic. With his black hair and his angry, dark blue eyes, he looked exactly what he was supposed to look like – a dispatcher of justice, and the ultimate authority in the realm.

  Zenith looked about for WolfStar but could not see him. She heaved a sigh of relief, and her hands relaxed from the claws they had been bunched into. She had not seen the Enchanter for three days, not since the night he’d kissed her above Sigholt.

  She had not slept well since. Her eyes were ringed with dark shadows, her skin pasty. Every time she slept she would find herself on the Island of Mist and Memory, reading the rites at Yuletide, moving familiarly about the quarters of the First Priestess, sitting at her desk to write to her unborn daughter.

  The nights were unendurable, and Zenith had taken to drinking stimulants to keep herself awake.

  To keep Niah at bay.

  Beside her, Leagh was torn between observing the huge crowd gathering in the Hall, and watching her friend with concern. Zenith was not herself, something seemed to be worrying her to the point where the Enchanter virtually refused to eat, and Leagh had almost forgotten her own troubles in the strength of her anxiety for Zenith.

  But every so often Leagh would remember Zared’s stricken face as she’d been dragged from this very Hall, and remember the love and the desperation she’d seen there. She blinked back tears. Zared had ridden out two days ago. She’d heard the clatter of hooves early in the morning, but had not been able to see him from her window. He had gone, and they had not even been able to say goodbye.

  Not personally that is, although one of the Lake Guard, somewhat unusually, Leagh thought, had relayed messages between them. “He will fight for you,” the birdman had told her. “Never fear.”

  There was a movement in the Hall, and Leagh refocused her eyes on the present.

  Caelum had signalled, and now a Strike Force member carried forth a plain wooden chair and placed it in a clear space before the dais.

  It faced Caelum.

  Again Caelum signalled, and a guard of four Strike Force members escorted Drago into the Hall and to the chair.

  Drago glanced about him, blinking in the light, and then he slowly faced Caelum. Leagh drew in her breath at the sight of him. His face was shadowed with beard, his hair and clothes unkempt, his eyes sunken but bright with hostility.

  They could at least have given him water to wash with, Leagh thought, and then wondered if he’d even been given water to drink.

  “Your name?” Caelum asked softly, but in a voice that carried throughout the Hall.

  “My name is Drago SunSoar.” Drago paused. “It was once DragonStar SunSoar.”

  Caelum’s face tightened in anger.

  “Your birth name,” Caelum said, “was stripped from you, and you have no right to mouth it now. Today we sit in judgment to decide whether your life will be stripped from you as well.”

  Leagh’s immediate reaction to this initial brief – but highly charged – exchange was a sense of wonderment that Drago’s life had not already been taken. Had Drago sat in his cell for the past three nights, watching the shadows about the cell door, expecting assassins with each breath he drew?

  “My sister RiverStar is dead,” Caelum said, his eyes locked with Drago’s. “She was your sister, too, and you shared the bond of the womb. It is abhorrent,” Caelum almost spat the word, “to me that you could murder not only your own sister but a sister with whom you shared the womb bond.”

  Beside Leagh, Zenith roused and opened her mouth to speak, obviously as perturbed as Leagh that Caelum was not even going to pretend impartiality. But EvenSong also saw her movement, and laid a restraining hand on Zenith’s arm.

  Sadness overwhelmed Leagh. She remembered how kind Drago had been when helping her down to meet Zared in the courtyard. Without his support that day, Leagh did not think she would have been as calm or composed. Yet all she could feel here in this Hall was a communal hatred towards Drago that was as stunning in its blindness as it was in its intensity.

  They should have killed him earlier, she thought, surreptitiously brushing away a tear, for that would have been kinder than this public spectacle.

  “Your predilection for violence is legendary,” Caelum continued, his voice more controlled but his hands white where they gripped the arms of the throne. “You allied yourself with Gorgrael the Destroyer against your parents and the realm of Tencendor. Your single betrayal was almost enough to prove the undoing of this entire nation!”

  “How am I supposed to believe that this happened?” Drago cried, stung into response. “I am told this tale, but I remember none of it! As far as I am concerned it is an excuse made up to justify our father’s own misjudgments and his almost failure to stop Gorgrael!”

  A murmuring arose from the body of the Hall. Caelum’s face was rigid with anger, but before he could speak Drago forged on, his own face lined and pale, his violet eyes darkened by intense emotion.

  “Remember that I am not on trial here and now for what may have happened forty years ago! Have I not paid enough?”

  “You? Well may we ask, have we not paid enough for your past crime? Don’t you have any idea how it continues to plague…Ah! Enough of that! You are on trial here and now for your present crime and for your life!” Caelum paused, controlled himself, then waved at a guard. “Sit him down.”

  A guard laid a hand on his shoulder and Drago sank down into his chair. Leagh thought he wore the face of a man who knew he was dead. Why this public charade, Caelum? she thought. Why?

  As Drago sat down, Caelum stood and spoke to the assembly. All those present who could remember Axis addressing the crowd outside Carlon when he had proclaimed Tencendor could instantly see his father’s blood in Caelum. He had, if not quite the same aura of command, then the beauty, grace, and presence of his father.

  “My friends,” he said, and held out his hand in supplication, “let me tell you what I know. Three nights ago I was talking with my father’s brother, Zared, and my remaining sister Zenith. We heard the Mage-King Isfrael cry out from the direction of RiverStar’s chamber and we rushed to investigate. When we reached her chamber, we found Isfrael and Talon FreeFall standing before Drago, who was crouched in undeniable guilt over RiverStar’s body, the vile blade he had used to murder her still clutched in his hand. FreeFall, will you explain how you came to find Drago?”

  FreeFall stood and, speaking in an even tone, but keeping his eyes away from Drago, told how he and Isfrael had been conversing in his rooms when they’d felt, as Isfrael had said, a despair emanating from RiverStar’s chamber. On investigating, they’d found Drago crouched over her body. When he’d finished speaking he sat down.

  “I thank you, Talon,” Caelum said, then turned to Isfrael. “My Lord Mage-King, did Talon FreeFall speak truly?”

  Isfrael stood. “He did, StarSon.”

  “I thank you, Mage-King.” And Isfrael sat down.

  Now Caelum turned his attention to his sister. “Zenith, have I described what we heard and saw accurately?”

  Hesitant and uncomfortable, Zenith slowly rose to her feet. She opened her mouth, but had to lick her lips before any sound came out. “We heard Isfrael cry out, and when we reached RiverStar’s chamber we found the Mage-King and FreeFall. And we saw Drago SunSoar before RiverStar’s corpse.”

  “And he clutched the murderous knife in his hand?”

  “He clutched a knife in his hand, yes. But –”

  “I thank you, Zenith. You may sit.”

  Zenith sank down, and Leagh took her arm, trying to give her friend some comfort. No-one liked testifying against a brother, and surely not against one as unfairly treated as this.

  Caelum faced Drago once more. “Stand, if you please.”

  Leagh’s face hardened. This was more than ridiculous! Drago was up and down like a child’s string puppet.

  Drago stood.

  “Face those
here assembled, if you please.”

  Drago did not move, a muscle working in his cheek.

  “Face those here assembled!”

  A guard’s hand fell on Drago’s shoulder, but Drago wrenched himself about on his own. Slowly he raised his eyes. Before him a thousand pitiless eyes stared back.

  “Did I speak the truth, Drago? Did I tell it how it was? Answer!”

  Drago fought to suppress his fury. Did Caelum want him to stand forth and admit to his own sister’s murder?

  Apparently so. “Answer!”

  “Isfrael, FreeFall and then Caelum, Zenith and Zared found me in RiverStar’s chamber,” he finally said. “Kneeling over RiverStar’s body. A knife in my hand.”

  “And is it not true that you murdered RiverStar?”

  Drago took a huge breath. “I cannot remember, but I cannot believe that I killed her.”

  Caelum paused, as if considering the idiocy of that denial. His mouth curled sardonically. “I cannot remember,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly.

  Then he addressed FreeFall and Isfrael once more. “My Lords, you say that you felt a ‘wrongness’ that led you to discover Drago over RiverStar’s corpse. Do you think that ‘wrongness’ indicates the time of her death?”

  FreeFall indicated that Isfrael should answer. He was the one with the magical ability, not FreeFall.

  Isfrael considered carefully. “StarSon, the sense of wrongness hit very suddenly. I assume that it indicated the moment of RiverStar’s death.”

  “Good,” Caelum said. “How long was the time interval between feeling the wrongness and discovering Drago in RiverStar’s chamber?”

  “Very short,” Isfrael said. “We ran as soon as we felt it. Seven or eight heartbeats’ space, no more. RiverStar’s chamber is only two doors from FreeFall’s.”

  Caelum nodded, as if considering. “Then, brother Isfrael, do you consider there was enough time in these seven or eight heartbeats for someone else to have escaped RiverStar’s chamber?”

  Isfrael shook his head. “We would have seen another person. We were out of FreeFall’s chamber almost instantly. Of course,” he added, “someone winged could have left via her window. Or,” and he cast his eyes slowly about the hall, “someone with sufficient magical ability could have just vanished.”

  “I do thank you,” Caelum said, nodding as if considering Isfrael’s words, then turned back to Drago. “The time between RiverStar’s death and the discovery of you with her corpse was tiny, Drago. Yet you say you did not murder her. If not, then mayhap you saw who did. Who, Drago? Who vanished or dropped from the window?”

  Caelum paused melodramatically. “Who?”

  Drago swung back to look at Caelum. “My memory is blank, brother! Can you not understand that?”

  “You have a very agreeable memory to so forget your own sister’s murder.” Caelum’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “StarSon.”

  Caelum – as Leagh – leapt in surprise as Zenith’s clear voice rang through the chamber. He glared at her, his eyes dark with anger. “Zenith, you have no right to –”

  “Caelum,” Zenith interrupted, shaking off Leagh’s hand and standing. “You are correct in saying that Drago might have seen the true murderer. If so, then any one of the SunSoar Enchanters can easily solve this mystery. Yet he says he cannot remember. How easily this can be solved! We could employ the Song of Recall to see what happened with Drago’s own eyes. Witness with him.”

  “You would witness your own sister’s death?” Caelum took a horrified step back.

  “If it would reveal her true murderer, then yes,” Zenith said.

  Caelum stared at her. “You are right,” he said eventually, “the Song of Recall will clearly show whether Drago is lying or not.” His tone clearly indicated which one he thought it would be.

  Zenith shot Drago a smile of encouragement as she sat down. He returned her look, but his face was unreadable.

  “Drago!” Caelum stepped down from the Throne of the Stars and moved forward, within a pace of Drago. “Drago,” he said more softly, “attend my power!”

  A hint of music brushed through the air. Leagh knew what was happening, Caelum was using a thread of music from the Star Dance to create a Song of Recall. She could barely hear it herself, but knew the Song must be thundering through every Enchanter in the Hall.

  Zenith trembled at her side, and Leagh glanced at her. Zenith seemed alright, her eyes fixed on Drago, and Leagh turned back to look.

  Drago had stiffened. His eyes slowly closed, and then his head snapped back.

  Caelum half stepped forward, a hand outstretched. Leagh noticed with some bewilderment that his face was contorted as if with massive effort; Leagh had been about Enchanters all her life and knew this Song should be an easy one for Caelum to manipulate.

  Caelum’s breath hissed out between his teeth, and Drago jerked and shuddered.

  Caelum seemed to put more effort into his enchantment. A gleam of sweat appeared on his brow, and his outstretched hand trembled.

  “It is of no use!” he cried suddenly. “I cannot retrieve it! He has placed a block over his memory.”

  “A block?” Zenith murmured at Leagh’s side. “A block? No-one can do that, surely, and least of all Drago, who has no Enchanter powers left!”

  “Let me try!” a voice rang out above them, and Zenith uttered a small cry and clutched at Leagh’s arm.

  “WolfStar!” she whispered, and Leagh was horrified to see stark terror in Zenith’s eyes.

  She looked up, as did everyone else in the Hall.

  From the roof beams far overhead an Icarii birdman was slowly spiralling down. Leagh caught her breath – he was so beautiful! His wings were gold, reflecting the sunlight, his hair seemed almost to be on fire, and his face…his face was rippling with power and sensuality.

  If Leagh was breathless with admiration, then Zenith was nauseous with shock and horror. As if a light flickered, she first saw WolfStar spiralling down from the roof of the Hall, and then saw him descending from the roof of the Dome. One part of her wanted to flee, another wanted to rush forward into his arms.

  “Let me try,” WolfStar repeated as he alighted on the floor by Caelum.

  Caelum, although he looked startled, stepped aside immediately. “Gladly, WolfStar. I bow to your greater power. Retrieve the murderer’s memory for us.”

  And Caelum shot Drago a look of pure triumph.

  WolfStar stepped close to Drago, but did not outstretch his hand as Caelum had. He just stood there, a slight smile on his face, his eyes fixed on Drago, his wings slowly relaxing onto the flagstones behind him.

  Zenith trembled, and clutched at Leagh. “Is he the murderer, do you think?” she whispered, so low Leagh could hardly hear her. “Is he RiverStar’s SunSoar lover?”

  Leagh could not take her eyes off WolfStar. He radiated power so potent she could feel her very bones vibrate with it. Stars alone knew what it was doing to Drago.

  The man had his eyes still bravely fixed on WolfStar’s, but his entire body was shaking; Leagh assumed only WolfStar’s power was holding him upright, because otherwise she could not see how Drago’s legs could possibly hold him.

  Then WolfStar whispered.

  “No-one bests me, manling!”

  And everyone in the Hall heard that whisper, felt it, and felt (if not heard) the Star Dance surge through the windows and stones and seemingly coalesce on WolfStar.

  The Enchanter’s hands clenched into fists by his side. “No-one bests me!” he screamed, and then Drago screamed also, his arms flailing at his side, and in the space behind him a grey mist materialised, and in this grey mist formed horror.

  A ghostly Drago, stepping into RiverStar’s chamber. She turned, and spoke, taunted. Drago shouted back, and raised a fist. RiverStar laughed, spoke again, and turned her back dismissively. Drago reached into his robe and withdrew a kitchen knife. He stepped across the space between them and plunged it into RiverStar’s back. She ha
lf collapsed, screaming, and then Drago had her by the hair, turning her half about, plunging the knife into her flanks, her breasts, her belly. RiverStar’s hands beat futilely; nothing could stop Drago’s murderous frenzy. Eventually she slipped to the floor, her eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing in the shock of her agonising dying. Drago let her go and stood above her, panting. His face wore a malicious expression of triumph. He watched her die. He laughed.

  Leagh herself was gasping after the horror of the vision, and she only dimly realised that someone was screaming.

  She blinked, clearing her eyes and mind.

  It was Drago. “No! No! No! No!” WolfStar had released him from his enchantment, and the man had slumped to the floor. But still he screamed. “No! No! No!”

  Zenith burst into tears, and Leagh realised she was crying as well.

  Before them, both Caelum and WolfStar relaxed.

  Time to do away with this murderous canker in our family, WolfStar? Caelum used his mind voice so that only WolfStar could hear it. So consumed was he by his fear of Drago, Caelum would have allied himself with the most loathsome demon if it meant he’d finally see the last of his brother.

  Far more than time. That block was…robust. Where did he get the power for that? Yes, definitely time to dispose of him. Azhure should have done it forty years ago. Now, StarSon, you can march into the future with confidence. Forget the horrors of the past.

  And face the trial which is ahead of you, WolfStar thought, screening it from Caelum. For that, it is definitely best that Drago be dead.

  Caelum had resumed the Throne of the Stars, and WolfStar stepped to the side so that the StarSon could pass judgment on his brother, still kneeling before him.

  “Drago, your memory, once so conveniently blank, has admitted to your sister’s murder, and you must suffer the sentence imposed on all murderers.”