Queen of Stars (Starfolk #2)

by Duncan, Dave

  “No, no! Scheddi would kill it.” Her gaze was defiant, intended to show that Avior Halfling had survived the transition to the Starlands.

  “I certainly would,” Scheddi said, lowering his horns menacingly.

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Come along, Naos. I need to find a swimming hole.”

  Izar was out the door in a flash, but he lingered on the path to let Rigel catch up.

  “Where,” the imp asked, “do you find…What was that?”

  That had been a cry of pain from the studio.

  Rigel didn’t break his stride. “Scheddi at work, I think. Pay no attention. We were meant to hear it. Some people have very strange ideas of fun. What were you going to say?”

  “I was going to ask where you got satyrs? I’ve never heard of them before!”

  “I don’t know. Ask Tyl or Thabit. They ought to know. They probably went to the same school as Scheddi.”

  Chapter 29

  Rigel insisted on going first through the portal to Mabsuthat, as he always did, telling Izar to stay close, as he always did. Izar hadn’t visited the glade of the hippogriffs since that day with Dschubba. He was fairly sure that some of big standing stones had moved since then, but the pearly mist never stopped shifting around, making the landscape oddly variable. The trees were more golden than he remembered, and the rocks’ humming song had changed to a more disturbing tone. There were notes in there he knew he couldn’t make on his lute.

  “Rigel?”

  “Yes, Izar?”

  “You suppose four unicorns and two Nusakan mudlings would be a fair trade for one satyr?”

  The halfling put on his taking-Izar-seriously face. “I have no idea. Why do you ask?”

  “I just wondered if you think Scheddi could have been given to Avior as a bribe.”

  “Starlings of your age shouldn’t have to worry about things like that.”

  “But this one has to, don’t I?”

  Rigel sighed. “I’m afraid you do, and I’m very glad you take it seriously.” He scanned the mist, hunting for hippogriffs, or anything worse that might approach. “Yes, the satyr could have been a bribe. Very few people would want to own one, but Avior is a strange lady.”

  “So you think she might have been bought by Hadar?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Izar nodded grimly. Any mention of Hadar gave him squiggly-worm feelings in his belly. “You didn’t tell her where the fake body’s going to be moved. You don’t trust her!”

  “Vindemiatrix is supposed to be a secret. You know that.”

  The portal at Mabsuthat was set in a big slab of white stone, probably made to match the big menhirs. The back of the slab was blank, as Izar knew because he’d looked at it the first time he was in this subdomain. Now Rigel moved to the rear corner, so he could make sure nothing was creeping up on them from that direction. There were supposed to be hydras, chi-meras, and even manticores here.

  Izar stayed at the front, to watch that way. “And you’re not happy about Mom moving the court there anyway.”

  “No, I’m not. It’s too old, too tricky, and it has too many secrets. My palimpsest amulet tells me a lot of things there aren’t what they seem to be, but it can’t tell me what they really do.”

  “Here comes our ride.”

  A huge flying shape zoomed into view overhead and circled down to land.

  “That’s not Kitalphar! Let’s go!” Rigel ran back to the portal.

  “No, wait!” Izar knew this hippogriff.

  “It’s a male, Izar! They’re deadly.”

  “This one isn’t!”

  Rigel had the door open. “Starling, come now!”

  “No, we’d offend him terribly. You know how proud they are.” Although he wasn’t sure of that and his heart was beating awesomely fast, Izar took three steps forward and bowed to the approaching monster. “Our eyes are honored to behold Your Magnificence, noble Torcularis Septentrionalis.”

  The great eagle beak could bite his head off. The huge talons on the front legs could crush him. But the fearsome head dipped graciously, just as it had the last time.

  “Would Your Splendor consent to transport my humble self and my servant to Vindemiatrix?”

  Torcularis nodded again, then turned around and lowered his horse rear so that Izar could mount, which wasn’t easy, and he appreciated a hefty boost from Rigel, and even Rigel had some trouble mounting on that huge back. The great feathered wings spread and the hippogriff soared upward.

  “This was how you got that amulet from Dschubba?” Rigel whispered in Izar’s ear. “You told me you didn’t run into a male!”

  “Well, it’s safer for us Naos,” Izar said, because he couldn’t think of a better retort. “They honor us.” That wasn’t a lie because he didn’t know for certain that it wasn’t true.

  “Remind me to wring your neck after lunch.”

  The nice thing about riding a hippogriff was that it kept its head down like a real eagle, so you could look straight ahead. Centaurs were bad that way. All you saw was a sweaty back.

  Mabsuthat had vanished into the mists below, so there was no land to see, only blue sky. Now that Vildiar had been outlawed and Mom had confiscated Phegda and all its sub-domains, she could open the root portal on Front Street in Canopus to the royal domain, if she wanted. Then any portal would work between Phegda and the royal domain, and they wouldn’t need hippogriffs or Saidak to go to places like Vindemiatrix. She’d told him she wasn’t planning on it, though, because both domains were too big already and she’d rather divide Phegda among V’s heirs. His heirs hadn’t been identified yet.

  The hippogriff was climbing over mountains of puffy cloud, evidently heading for a very high highway. Izar turned sidesaddle, hanging both feet down on the left and gripping Torky’s spinal fringe with both hands; that way he could talk to Rigel better. Rigel hung onto his arm, but he wasn’t much more securely seated than Izar was.

  “Is Avior still loyal, Rigel?”

  “She never sees anyone except Scheddi, apparently, and he’s only interested in one thing.”

  “Which he does very well?” He was certainly built for it. Whoof!

  “I’m sure he does.”

  “So Tyl and Thabit don’t go there anymore. I think that’s really supsishus! You think she’s gone over to the Family?”

  “Mm…” Rigel didn’t often seem unsure of himself, but he wasn’t answering.

  “You told me you’d never lie to me!”

  “And I never do. If the Family knows what Avior’s been doing for us, then my plan won’t work, will it?”

  “You don’t lie, you just ask more questions instead of answering mine.” Suddenly Izar had a brainwave. Smart imp! “Was it ever meant to?”

  Rigel shot him an irritated look. “Was whatever ever meant to do what?”

  “The plan. It was always a schmoory, stupid plan! I never thought much of it, and today Avior told us that the dead ringer still won’t feel like a real corpse. So that isn’t the real plan at all…Never was. You were careful not to mention Vindemiatrix by name.” Yes, this made more sense. “You knew what sort of things Avior made before we even extroverted to fetch her: corpses and bits of bodies and stuff. Hadar must’a known too!”

  “Go on.”

  “You didn’t mention Vindemiatrix to Avior, but you promised to go back to Kraz tomorrow morning. So what happens tonight?”

  “Why should anything happen tonight?” Rigel asked warily.

  “Because you expect Hadar to try and ambush you tomorrow morning at Kraz. So you’ll have a counterambush waiting!”

  “Yuck! That is the most disgusting, twisted, deceitful thinking I ever heard of! Did you always have a messed-up mind like that, or did you pick it up from me?”

  Izar crowed in triumph. “I was a nice imp till you came along.”

  They both laughed. It was good to see the halfling happy. He’d been mopey lately. “So what does happen tonight?”

  “Tonight, m
y young friend, we load up Kraz with centaurs, sphinxes, griffins, cyclops, and minotaurs galore, all armed with swords and bloodthirstily delighted by the prospect of getting a fair fight for once. If Hadar and the Family take the bait tomorrow, they will be slaughtered down to the last man or woman. No quarter given. And no, you can’t be there.”

  “How will you get all your troops through the portal?” That would be suicide. Hadar would be waiting to pick them off, one by one.

  “I won’t,” Rigel said. “The portal will be locked. We’ll come at them from every other direction.”

  “And what will you do about Avior?”

  “Avior?” Rigel said. “Why should I do anything about Avior?”

  “You just admitted that she’s betraying you to Vildiar!”

  “Ah.” For a moment the halfling seemed to study the scenery, but then he sighed and smiled sadly. “I knew she would, Izar. See, Avior had a terrible, terrible childhood. It wasn’t only what Vildiar did to her mother; her own mother and step-father were even worse. She’s been damaged and warped in a way normal people like you and me can never understand. Hadar’s gang found her and then used her as bait for me, right? And now I’m using her as bait for Hadar. Am I any better than he is?”

  What? “Of course you are! Hadar’s a great horrible monster!”

  “Then I must be a little horrible monster. Hadar knew that you and I had rescued her and he would naturally watch to see what use we made of her. I was sure he’d manage to turn her somehow. So I don’t blame her, and I won’t do, as you call it, anything about Avior. She enjoys solitude, and she’s got it at Kraz. She likes making those nightmare works of art, and she can do it all day long now, without ever having to worry about paying the grocery bills. And she has Scheddi to give her whatever else she wants from life, Heaven help her. Avior’s as close to Heaven now as she can ever be, Izar, and your mother and I plan to let her enjoy it.”

  Izar said, “Oh!” and put that little talk away to think about later.

  A highway came into view, a wheel of cloud beneath them, and Torcularis swooped down wickedly fast. Oo! Cool! That was a Rigel word, meaning “doggy!” The other starlings had laughed at it at first, but now they were using it too. The ’griff shot through the link and leveled out, soaring low over a landscape of drab black rock, under a gray and drizzling sky.

  Izar looked around, wondering why anyone would bother to imagine a domain so depressing. It pretended it was a very wide mountain valley, which ought to be walled in by very high peaks, but the clouds hid everything above the lowest slopes. That was cheating, probably; there wouldn’t be any mountains behind most of the clouds. When he was old enough to imagine his own domain, it was going to be all real, no cheating! And the animals would all be really dangerous. Here he couldn’t see any animals, or any chance of any. Not even rabbits or marmots or ground squirrels. The landscape was nothing but rock: slabs, boulders, cobbles, pebbles, and shingle. Streams of disgusting milky water wandered through it all, joining and dividing. Perhaps that much water put all together would count as a big river, but it wouldn’t be any use for anything, not swimming, boating, or even drinking.

  “Schmoory!” he said. “It’s ugly. Who committed this atrocity?”

  “Vindemiatrix was imagined by Elgomaisa Starborn’s mother around seventeen hundred years ago. She still lives there, but I haven’t met her—she doesn’t receive halflings.”

  “Does it ever stop raining here?”

  Rigel was grinning. “Never when I’ve come here. But it’s meant to be ugly, I think. Look up ahead.”

  Ahead there was just more barren valley, no grass, no flowers, no trees. A patch of sunshine in the distance, under a gap in the clouds, looked hopeful. As Torky flew closer, the view resolved itself into a great snow-capped peak, towering over the valley. And a rainbow.

  “Pretty,” Izar conceded. Almost impressive, maybe. “But that’s all? They live in tents here?”

  “Over there, to the left.”

  Ah, yes. Now he saw a house of some sort perched on a rocky shelf about a third of the way up the mountain. The rainbow seemed to start from it, leaping upward to frame the valley in its great poly-colored arch, from red to ultraviolet, which he knew that Rigel, like many other halflings, couldn’t see.

  A golden house. Nothing elaborate about its shape, just four walls and a gable roof, but all of gold, and soon he began to realize that it must be doggy huge up there, so high above the valley floor.

  Yes! Wow! “Vindemiatrix?”

  “That’s it. The foreground is ugly, but the ugliness outside emphasizes the beauty of the interior. It’s symbolic: beyond death lies the abode of the gods. And then there’s the bridge.”

  Izar couldn’t see any bridge. He was distracted by a wicked itch on his wrist. He was just about to scratch it when he realized that it was coming from his warning bracelet. Rigel would notice if he scratched that, because Rigel never missed anything. And if Vindemiatrix meant danger for Izar, then Rigel would send him home.

  Rigel was frowning. He looked down and caught Izar’s eye. “All right?”

  Izar shook his head. “Warning bracelet.” Heroes didn’t waste words.

  “Saiph too,” Rigel said softly.

  Neither spoke again for a few minutes. Izar watched as the gorgeous golden building grew larger. He wondered why Torky was continuing to glide close to the ground rather than gaining height. And that splendid rainbow? Was it possible that the rainbow was growing nearer, too? That had to be cretinous imagery, because rainbows didn’t do that! But this one was, or rather it wasn’t running away as it should. As they approached it, it was also growing bigger and bigger, huger and huger, and soon it was clear that the hippogriff was heading for the base of the rainbow on the far side of the river from Vindemiatrix.

  Rain stopped; the sun came out. Better!

  “Izar? How well can you control this steed of yours?”

  Izar looked up at Rigel and shrugged. “Dunno.”

  “When we land, ask him politely if he’ll take us back to the royal domain. Very politely! You know how touchy they are.”

  The warning bracelet was itching enough to drive him crazy. He reached down to touch Saiph on Rigel’s wrist, and felt it vibrating. Imp and halfling exchanged concerned glances.

  The base of the rainbow stood on the riverbank, where a stretch of sward offered the only patch of color in the dreary valley. Two unicorns and a pegasus were grazing, but as Torky approached, they trotted to the far end of the tiny meadow and stood there, eyeing him nervously. The hippogriff set down his talons and hooves and waited for his passengers to dismount, folding his great wings.

  “Most royal Torcularis Septentrionalis,” Izar said, “mightiest of hippogriffs, it seems that danger awaits here for my humble self and my churl. Would you most graciously consent to return us quickly to—”

  The answer was in the negative. Torcularis reared, sending Izar and Rigel hurtling to the ground. For a moment Izar was winded, lying flat on the pebbly grass, staring up in horror at the nightmare towering over him, bigger by far than any horse. Balanced on his hind hooves, mighty wings spread, Torky’s great front talons appeared ready to seize and crush him.

  Then Rigel was standing over him, his sword streaked with sunlight.

  “Back, hippogriff!” he roared. “This is ancestral Saiph, the King of Swords. Add not your name to its grisly necrology!”

  Torcularis clacked his beak a few times in frustration, then leaped into the sky. Rigel stood back and watched him soar away. By the time he had dismissed his sword, Izar was on his feet again.

  “All right?” Rigel asked.

  “Think so.” He hadn’t wet himself, although he’d come awful close.

  “Well done, hero! I think both of us had better stay well away from Mabsuthat in future. What’s your warning amulet doing now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Honest?”

  “Of course honest!”

  “Interesting
,” Rigel said. “So we were only in danger from the hippogriff.”

  That didn’t sound right! Torky had only become dangerous when they asked him to take them home, and the only reason they’d done that was because of the warning signals. Still, Izar’s bracelet wasn’t itching anymore.

  “What’s Saiph say?”

  Rigel gave him an exasperated why-did-you-have-to-ask-that scowl. “Shivering like a bird in a net.”

  Izar nodded solemnly, pleased that his bodyguard hadn’t lied to him. He looked around at the minute stretch of grass, and all the barren rock around it. There was nowhere to go, no way out, except perhaps on the pegasus, and they were one-owner pets. “Now what?”

  Rigel smiled and looked up at the rainbow, which filled the sky. “Fortunately I don’t think that little hassle was visible from Vindemiatrix. It seems we have to visit there whether we want to or not.”

  That “hassle” had nearly killed them both, and it was all Izar’s fault for taking Dschubba to Mabsuthat without permission and getting himself adopted by a male hippogriff. But Rigel knew he knew that and so wasn’t going to reproach him for it, or punish him more. Which made him feel worse, of course, and Rigel probably knew that, too.

  “You’ll love the place,” Rigel said, heading across the grass toward the rainbow. “So would Avior. It’s her dream world.”

  “Why?” Izar distrusted that innocent tone.

  “It’s full of corpses.”

  “Real corpses?”

  “They look real. But they dance and fight and sing songs, so perhaps not.”

  He jumped over a murky, earthy-smelling pool of dark brown water. Izar took a run at it and followed. He’d never seen a rainbow from the side before. At this angle it was a wall of red light almost too bright to look upon. It was at least twenty starborn paces wide—meaning that rainbows were that thick—hanging from the sky like an enormous curtain with fuzzy edges. He could see into it a pace or two, but beyond that everything faded into the red mist. The other colors were hidden behind the red.

  “Now we walk up this?” he demanded.