Crusader

by Sara Douglass

  “I know nothing of weapons!” Leagh cried, sounding suddenly panicky, and DragonStar spoke quickly to reassure her.

  “These confrontations will have no need of lances or pikes, Leagh. We will, I think, employ a little trickery, along with a touch of love, and we are going to employ some information that StarLaughter gave me in order to choose our ‘weapons’.”

  “What do you mean?” Goldman said.

  “Listen,” DragonStar said, and he spoke low and intensely for a very long time.

  Both the frigid night air and time itself had closed in about Spiredore. Demons ringed it, whispering and shrieking of death, but Spiredore was made of stronger stuff than Sigholt had been, and it caused the Demons even greater angst.

  Here again Roxiah stood with its head thrown back and arms and legs spread wide, bringing to bear all the power of the Enemy that it could upon the obstinate tower.

  But Spiredore was holding out: grimly, painfully, and using every last bit of strength and resistance it had.

  Spiredore had one more task to do, and it prayed and begged that it could do it soon.

  DragonStar looked up as he finished, his face ashen. “We have almost no time!”

  “What is happening,” DareWing said.

  “The Demons are laying siege to Spiredore, trying to destroy it…and you need to use its power to transport yourselves to—”

  “Gods!” DareWing and Goldman rose as one, the women not far behind them.

  “DragonStar,” Faraday said, taking his arm. “Leagh…I am so concerned for her…she is not far away from birth, and—”

  He stopped her words with a finger to her lip. “Leagh is a strong and determined women—and weren’t you, when you planted out Minstrelsea while carrying Isfrael? Faraday, I can watch over her.”

  Faraday nodded, accepting, although she did not like the situation, nor envy Leagh her aloneness with whatever she met at Ferabrake Lake.

  No, DragonStar whispered in her mind. Faraday, be still, and trust and believe in Leagh.

  Again she nodded, and, as did Gwendylyr, Leagh and Goldman, withdrew her folded doorway from a pocket in her robe.

  “The Strike Force?” DareWing said.

  “I will command them for the moment,” DragonStar said. “They are mobile enough without Spiredore.”

  “And you?” Goldman asked. “How will you travel about once Spiredore is gone?”

  DragonStar grinned. “I have my Star Stallion,” he replied, “and he is as effective as Spiredore for travelling about Tencendor itself…and less vulnerable.”

  The worried look reappeared over his face. “Quick! Quick!”

  Then DragonStar turned his head to one side and gave a piercing whistle.

  The feathered lizard bounded out from the pack of Alaunt, grinning from ear to ear as if it had been summoned for a game of hide and chase.

  Goldman and DareWing looked at him, and smiled.

  “Share!” Qeteb whispered in Roxiah’s ear. “Share the Enemy’s power with me, and together we can tumble this tower to the ground!”

  He rested a splayed, hammer-fingered hand on Roxiah’s belly, and pressed.

  Roxiah considered this request. It knew it was a good idea so far as demolishing Spiredore was concerned, but to share this new-found power with Qeteb? What if Qeteb did not want to give it back?

  “Share!” Qeteb whispered, and dug his fingers in a little.

  Roxiah trembled and, fearing for the life in its womb, shared.

  Qeteb shuddered as the strange power thudded through him, then he leaned his head back and laughed.

  “Spiredore! I have you!”

  “Quick! Quick!” DragonStar almost pushed the other five towards the glowing doors. “Fast!”

  DareWing and Goldman stepped through, the lizard bounding after them, and their doorway folded closed.

  Then Gwendylyr stepped into her door, having given Leagh a fierce hug and a kiss goodbye.

  Then Leagh picked up her skirts and stepped through her door, DragonStar watching and wishing her luck silently.

  He turned to Faraday. “I wish you would trust me,” he said.

  She blinked back tears, then stepped forward and hugged him. “I love you,” she said, her head against his chest, “but I find it hard to forget the past. DragonStar, please, do not abandon me in the Maze!”

  He tilted her chin up with a finger, then leaned down and kissed her.

  “Go with my love, and my promise that I will never let Tencendor claim you as sacrifice again.”

  She trembled. “Katie…”

  “I will watch over Katie, and you will surely see her again.”

  “Keep her safe,” Faraday said, but at that DragonStar lifted his head and avoided her eyes.

  “There must always be some pain, mustn’t there,” Faraday said, her voice bitter, and she drew back from DragonStar.

  “Go,” he said sadly. “Go.”

  And she was gone.

  For a moment DragonStar stood, gazing into the emptiness where once had been friends and lovers and glowing doors.

  Then he turned and walked out of the chamber, his footfalls echoing about the dank walls for a long time after he had gone.

  Qeteb could not believe his good fortune. He’d entered Spiredore in order to wreak destruction within—and had encountered DragonStar’s five witches!

  They were not all together, moving around different portions of the complex, but Qeteb knew that if he could pull Spiredore down about their ears, and kill them all now, before even they met his companions, then DragonStar could do nothing against him.

  Nothing. The matter could be settled here and now.

  Qeteb smiled, pure evil, then closed his eyes and tilted his head back, combining his power with that of Roxiah still outside.

  “Tumble down,” he whispered, “tumble down, you masonried piece of shit…”

  And matter shifted within the tower.

  DareWing and Goldman, preparing to exit through the blue-misted tunnel that Spiredore had opened for them, both fell to their knees several paces away from the tunnel.

  “Get up!” DareWing screamed, and physically lifted Goldman by an elbow.

  The lizard made sure DareWing had a secure hold on Goldman, then he scrambled down the tunnel to safety.

  The birdman’s wings beat frantically, for they were never meant to carry the weight of another grown man, but DareWing managed to fly down the tunnel. He bounced off walls as his own wings threatened to fail him and Spiredore screamed in its death throes about him, but he eventually dragged Goldman to the other end.

  They fell through blue mist into a forest of sharp and angry crystal.

  Tumble down, you piece of Enemy excreta. Qeteb’s power expanded, thriving on the chaos about him.

  Faraday cried out, and clutched at a balcony railing. She fell to her knees so heavily she knocked the breath from her chest.

  A movement far below caught her eye, and she saw Gwendylyr, crawling up some stairs on her hands and knees. “Fast!”

  Faraday shouted down to her, and Gwendylyr nodded slightly and crawled towards the tunnel that was opening before her.

  Spiredore opened a tunnel for Faraday as well, but both women cried out in horror because, just as the tunnels formed, they fell apart, shattered by Qeteb’s death grip on Spiredore.

  “Spiredore!” Faraday cried, finally managing to rise to her knees. “Do this for Azhure! Please! Be strong for Azhure!”

  Azhure? The name rippled through the tower, and just for a moment Spiredore fought back, hard enough to give Qeteb pause, and long enough to reform both tunnels again.

  Neither Faraday nor Gwendylyr wasted time. They literally clambered to their feet, picked up their skirts, and fled down the tunnels as fast as they could go.

  Leagh was not so lucky.

  Of them all, she was the one on the lowest stairs of the tower. Spiredore trembled violently when it lost concentration, will and power once Faraday and Gwendylyr had passed th
rough, and Leagh was flung down a series of stairs until, horribly, horrifically, she rolled to the feet of Qeteb himself.

  “Well, well,” Qeteb said, “what a pretty lady.”

  Leagh rolled away as far as she could, but she was hurt and winded and terrified beyond measure, and she feared that she, and her baby, were dead.

  Oh, DragonStar! I couldn’t even reach Fernbrake Lake for you!

  Qeteb reached down enlarging hands—

  What was that strange smell? It seemed to be emanating from the woman…no! It was rising as a smoke from around her figure!

  Qeteb’s hands halted, and an expression of utter surprise came over his face.

  It was the heady scent of a field of lilies.

  “No,” he whispered, and reached out for the woman again.

  Leagh backed away on hands and buttocks, trying desperately to get out of his reach, yet knowing it was impossible.

  Qeteb grinned, shunting the scent to one side—a field of flowers was not going to stop him!—and reached out hands that had turned into talons.

  The woman was as good as dead. He could take one, at least—

  Suddenly Qeteb screamed, for it felt as though fire had enveloped his feet.

  He looked down. There was a ball of light enveloping his lower legs, a light with no discernible form, but with what certainly felt like terrible teeth.

  And it smelt. Horribly. Like crushed lilies.

  Behind Leagh, Spiredore roused itself one last time, one last desperate time, and a tunnel of blue mist formed.

  Get you gone, girl!

  Leagh was still terrified by Qeteb, even though something had distracted him for the moment, but she managed—infinitely slowly—to turn her head and look behind her.

  Whimpering, hardly able to believe that she would be able to make it, she turned over onto her hands and knees and scrambled as fast as her cumbersome figure would allow her towards the end of the tunnel.

  Qeteb paid her no notice. He was directing all his power down to the light…more…more…now! that had the thing! Qeteb scampered about until he’d managed to get both legs free of the mass of white light. Just as he thought he’d succeeded, the light surged forward, concentrating its burning fury on Qeteb’s left foot. Roaring, he drew his leg back, then kicked it forward, trying to finally dislodge the irritating piece of—

  The ball of light flew off his foot…straight down the blue-misted tunnel.

  As it flew through the air, it transformed, until it took the shape of a white lily.

  A portion of railing fell from above and struck Qeteb on the head. He grunted, and thrown momentarily off-balance, he missed the chance to direct his power after the fleeing woman.

  The tunnel wavered, and closed.

  Qeteb went berserk.

  By the time he’d finished, there was nothing left of Spiredore save a wisp of smoke and a pile of pitiable debris.

  Chapter 36

  Pretty Brown Sal

  They’d slipped through Qeteb’s fingers for the moment, but he knew they had not slipped far. Qeteb knew where the five had gone and, knowing, he could afford to wait. They would be going nowhere—and could accomplish nothing.

  In the meantime he and his could grow stronger. Invincible.

  Sanctuary.

  Once Sanctuary was gone—and those within it, as their power consumed—there was nothing that could stop the Demons. They were six again, they controlled the power of the Enemy, and DragonStar and the five would be crushed like delicate spring flowers within Qeteb’s fist.

  Qeteb had, for the moment, forgotten the virulence of that lily.

  He laughed and strutted as he looked over the pile of debris that had once been Spiredore, his fists opening and closing with infinite patience as he moved, the mail of his armour creaking very slightly as his joints flexed.

  Then Qeteb raised his head and gazed about. Behind him rose the Maze—the dark, glorious Maze, both his prison and his heaven—while to the north, west and south lay only the devastation of drifting ash and dead earth under the hopeless night sky.

  And those eager to please.

  There was one thing Qeteb could do to keep DragonStar’s witches out of mischief until he could give them his full attention.

  He began to whisper, and about him the air filled with howls and screams as the demonic gibbered their approval.

  There was little peace in Sanctuary. Urbeth was here, and while Urbeth said she could help them escape, Urbeth remained completely silent on the “how’s” and “wherefore’s”, and spent much of her time snapping and growling and making sarcastic comments about everyone’s state of readiness.

  Axis spent as much time snapping back at her. The entire land—all that had survived Qeteb’s resurrection—was hidden here. Sanctuary throbbed with life, but it was life that lay only a moment away from total annihilation, and all that stood between them and that moment was Urbeth’s damned reticent aid and Axis’ need to get everyone and everything organised.

  There may have been little peace, but what stunned Axis was the fact that there was utter calm. He’d always believed that peace and calm went hand in hand, but apparently not. Everyone within Sanctuary was now aware of the imminent danger, and everyone was aware that an escape was being planned—although not everyone was aware that, apparently, Urbeth meant to dump them (how? how? how?) in the frozen wastes of the northern tundra.

  It was not only the Icarii, Acharites, Ravensbund and Avar who were aware of some of these things. The animal, bird and insect life also seemed apprised of not only the threat, but of the plans for escape. And of everyone, the exiled fauna of Tencendor seemed the calmest and the most organised.

  Striding about Sanctuary supervising the loading of supplies that would continue through the night, Axis came across population after population of beetle, or millipede or butterfly, patiently clinging or clumping to baskets and panniers: none of the packhorses or mules seemed to mind carrying a load of insects or even birds. Axis stood openmouthed with astonishment at the sight of one draughthorse standing, so covered with bats, that only his drooping head appeared from the shifting, squeaking (but not complaining) mass of grey and brown fur that had buried its myriad claws into his thick winter coat.

  Several hundred carts were filled with dozing seals: cats, dogs and poultry snuggled with no hint of squabbling or rancour between the seals’ warm, gently heaving sides. Oxen, cows, mules and horses stood waiting yoked or collared to the carts, many with birds clinging to spines or manes. Elsewhere grouped herds of livestock or of wild creatures, each herd ignoring nearby animals even though under more normal circumstances they might be natural competitors or even enemies.

  Ravensbundmen and women moved about among the animals, checking and adjusting the gear of those creatures yoked or collared to carts, murmuring and soothing any creature that appeared nervous and jittery. Axis had seen Urbeth talk to Sa’Domai earlier: undoubtedly the Ravensbundmen were the best adapted to working in the conditions that faced them, but they also appeared to be particularly suited to working and empathising with animals. Was it because they were hunters and used to the ways of wild creatures, Axis wondered, or simply because the Ravensbundmen were more than half-wild themselves?

  Intermingling with everything and everybody were the fey creatures that had once populated the forests. Shifting shapes and colours, winking jewel-like eyes and horns, with strange, soft cries and gentle touches, the fey creatures slipped in and out of every pack and herd, spreading calm and even, Axis suspected, some sense of hope.

  But, strangest of all the creatures that Axis saw, were the huddled creatures from Bogle Marsh. They were grouped so closely that Axis could not tell them apart. They simply formed one massive lump of grey, steaming flesh that extended some thirty paces into the air and spread some sixty or seventy paces wide.

  The entire pile was gently humming to itself: some strange, marshland melody that rose and fell in gentle, if gigantic, undulations over the other creatures
about them.

  Axis could feel it vibrating up through his feet, and was strangely soothed by its touch.

  “Axis?”

  He turned. It was Zared, looking cross and tired.

  “Urbeth,” Zared said with more than a trace of aspersion, “has just had a new thought.”

  Axis repressed a smile. He did not think it had helped Zared’s temper.

  “She wants us,” Zared continued, “to pack some four or five hundred large, shallow bowls, as well three hundred barrels of potent malmsbury wine.”

  Axis remained silent, although he let the question flood his face.

  “I have no idea why!” Zared said, and gestured aside impatiently.

  “Undoubtedly Urbeth has her reasons,” Axis said gently. “Zared…Zared, I know there is little I can say to help you. I know how you must be feeling with Leagh—”

  “Do you?” Zared said, his eyes hard. “Do you?”

  “Aye,” Axis said, “I do. Azhure and I fought apart much of our time, and I spent much of that time in agony wondering whether or not I would ever see her again. Do not blame me for the fact that currently I know she is safe.”

  Zared visibly forced himself to relax. “I’m sorry. But…none of us are ‘safe’, are we? Azhure perhaps stands in as much danger as does Leagh.”

  “As do you and I.”

  “Yes,” Zared sighed. “As do you and I.” He swept his eyes about the scene before him, letting them linger briefly on the pile of humming Bogle Marsh creatures. “As does every creature in this gods-forsaken place.”

  “I assume that Sanctuary has supplied the bowls and malmsbury?”

  Zared sighed again, managing a rueful smile as he did so. “Oh, aye. The best quality malmsbury wine I have ever seen. I think you and I, brother, should broach a cask before morning.”

  Axis grinned. “I look forward to it. I doubt overmuch if Urbeth will notice a glass or two gone.”