Crusader

by Sara Douglass

  As Axis sat Sal on the eastern bank of the Nordra on a small hillock overlooking the black Maze, surveying the frightful scene before him, Axis wondered what he should do now, but before he could make up his mind, Ur rode up on the bear-back of Urbeth.

  “Wait,” Ur said. “There is not much else to do.”

  “Look,” said Zared, who had ridden to join Axis, and he pointed to the north-west.

  There a series of small hills rolled towards the distant Western Ranges. On one of the hills was a tumble of stones, surrounded by a massive crowd of beasts.

  A chestnut-haired woman in a white robe stood before the stones, facing the beasts.

  “Faraday!” Axis whispered.

  “And more,” Zared said softly, wondering how any of them could possibly survive this day. Again he pointed.

  On a hill some eighty paces away from the one on which Faraday awaited her fate stood DragonStar and Qeteb, their respective mounts four or five paces apart, waiting on them.

  Qeteb was all-consuming darkness: his armour, his wings, the lance he held in his right hand. Even the dawn light seemed drawn into him, as if he were that source in the universe which ate all light, and sent it to its death.

  Beside him, DragonStar stood clean and bright, dressed in nothing save his white loincloth, and jewelled belt and purse.

  The lily sword was sheathed.

  As Qeteb appeared to eat light, so DragonStar appeared to radiate it…but the light he put out could not compete with the amount Qeteb absorbed, and even as Axis stared, DragonStar seemed to fade slightly, as if whatever energy source he relied upon was being consumed particle by particle by the Midday Demon.

  “He is weak,” Urbeth said softly.

  “Maybe,” said Ur. “Maybe.”

  There was a stir amongst the creatures milling before Faraday, and all eyes turned in her direction.

  Chapter 64

  The Most Appalling Choice of All

  Faraday turned, and she saw Axis in the distance. He sat atop a small brown horse, his war band about him, and Faraday smiled, remembering the adventures and the love they’d once shared.

  Or, the love she’d thought they once shared.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she bowed her head, and turned away.

  As she turned, Faraday raised her head anew, and she saw Qeteb and DragonStar on a hill not far from hers.

  DragonStar…Faraday sobbed, a shaking hand to her mouth. She didn’t think she had the strength for what lay ahead. She well knew what had happened to Goldman and DareWing, and the triumph that suffused Qeteb. Now it all rested on her. The chance for complete success, or utter failure.

  And utter failure would inevitably lead to obliteration. Oh gods! How she prayed for it! To escape all pain and betrayal, to be at peace even if it was the peace of oblivion.

  Still sobbing, both hands and shoulders shaking, Faraday stared at DragonStar. Did he love her? Did he love her enough to place her before Tencendor?

  Could he save her from what lay ahead?

  Faraday shut her eyes, desperate to escape from the nightmarish thoughts chasing about her head.

  Desperate, whatever else, to escape from the pain that was her destiny.

  Something dug slightly into her belly, and Faraday’s free hand gripped the rainbow belt that the Mother had given her. She could feel the outline of the arrow and the sapling that wound about it.

  And from that faint touch, Faraday drew strength.

  She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes for a last look at DragonStar. “For God’s sake,” she whispered, not even pausing to wonder why she put the deity in the singular now, when before she, as everyone else in Tencendor, had always used the plural, “save me, DragonStar. Save me.”

  And Faraday turned, and she faced the test.

  Sheol now stood before the undulating dark mass of beasts that spread out from Faraday’s hill.

  “Greetings, Faraday,” Sheol said pleasantly, and Faraday felt despair flood her. “What choice do you have planned for me, then?”

  And Sheol laughed, a dreadful, burbling chortle that rang with utter confidence.

  Sheol was going to win, and she knew it.

  Faraday sighed, utterly despairing, and she held out her hand to the Demon. “Come,” she said.

  They walked a frozen landscape. A frigid northerly wind blew hard-edged snow about them, forcing both to walk with heads bowed and hands grasping their cloaks about them.

  Neither talked.

  As they walked, Sheol very gradually turned eastwards until she was lost in the driving wind and snow, and Faraday was left alone in the frozen land.

  This was a land, and an existence, Faraday knew very well.

  She had been here before, on the evening she had risen from the campfire she’d shared with Axis and the two Avar men, Brode and Loman, as they’d journeyed northwards to Gorgrael’s ice fortress. Faraday had risen and left that fire and not seen Axis again until he’d come to claim his inheritance in Gorgrael’s frightful chamber.

  Now Faraday lived it all over again.

  She caught sight of a flickering campfire ahead, and thought she saw DragonStar’s form rise and move about it, throwing on more wood as if awaiting her company.

  “DragonStar!” Faraday breathed, and hurried forward. Maybe all would be well, after all.

  A strange whisper, barely discernible in the night, ran along the edge of the wind.

  Faraday paused, the cloak wrapping itself about her body in the wind. Nothing. She hurried on.

  There, again, a soft whisper along the wind and, this time, a hint of movement to her right.

  She stopped again, every nerve afire. Her fingers pushed fine strands of hair from her eyes, and she concentrated hard, peering through the gloom, listening for any unusual sounds.

  “Faraday.” A soft whisper, so soft she almost did not hear it.

  A whisper…and a soft giggle.

  “Faraday.” And another movement, more discernible this time, among the eddying snow.

  She stared, hoping it was her imagination, hoping she was wrong.

  The flickering campfire caught her eye again, and she looked back. DragonStar had raised his head and was staring into the snow in her direction, but just as she was about to call out, something distracted DragonStar, and he bent back to the fire.

  “Faraday.”

  No mistaking it this time, and Faraday closed her eyes and moaned.

  “Faraday? It is I, Timozel.”

  She mustered all her courage and looked to her right. A shape was half-crouched in the snow some four or five paces away, its hand extended, its eyes gleaming.

  It was not Timozel, but Sheol…but a Sheol who had assumed the form of Timozel: the boyishly lean body; the hair plastered to the skull with ice; eyes which, once so deep blue, were now only rimmed with the palest blue, the rest of the irises being stark white.

  Timozel’s form, but with Sheol’s intelligence and strength shining from behind those frightful eyes.

  “Help me…please,” Sheol whispered in Timozel’s voice.

  “No,” Faraday whispered. “Go away.”

  “Qeteb trapped me!” Sheol whispered. “I never wanted to be a Demon! No! Never! Qeteb forced me into a life of darkness, and I’ve had no choice.”

  And now? thought Faraday, but for the moment she made no comment.

  “He has trapped me, Faraday! Trapped me! Forced me into his service.”

  “No,” Faraday said, but she was unable to look away, unable to call for help. Once again the force of the Prophecy lay like a dead weight about her shoulders. Nothing she could do now could alter its abominable course.

  “I’m as much a victim as you are, Faraday. Please help me. I want to escape. Trust me.”

  “Go away,” Faraday muttered hoarsely, and the wind caught at her cloak so that it tore back from her body.

  Now Sheol was almost at her feet, and her fingers fluttered at the hem of her gown. “Please, Faraday. I want to revel
in the Light. Please, Faraday! Help me. You could be my friend. Help me!”

  No! she screamed in her mind, but she could not voice it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw DragonStar rising from the fire, a hand to his eyes. Then her hair whipped free and, caught by the wind, obscured her vision.

  No! But the resurgent Prophecy had her in its grip now, and it would not let her go.

  “Trust me,” Sheol whispered at her feet. Trust me.

  No!

  “DragonStar,” she cried. “Forgive me!”

  Sheol’s hand snatched at her ankle.

  “Gotcha!” she crowed.

  Faraday closed her eyes to fight her panic, took a deep breath, then looked at Sheol.

  “This is your choice,” she said. “You can take me to Qeteb, or you can let me go. You do have a choice. You do not merely have to mouth the words from some drama that was played out forty or more years ago. Sheol, listen to me, listen to your choice. Take me to Qeteb, or join the light, free your soul. Let me go.”

  Let me go.

  Sheol, still crouched in the snow, one claw-like hand about Faraday’s ankle, cocked her head as if deep in thought.

  Her features flowed into her female form, back again into Timozel’s lost face, and then finally settled back into that of the Sheol-face she normally wore.

  “A choice?” she whispered. “A choice? I can truly leave Qeteb and join the forces of light and goodness?”

  Before Faraday could answer, Sheol burst into sarcastic laughter, and her hand tightened painfully about Faraday’s flesh.

  “Stupid woman! I choose Qeteb! I choose never-ending demony! I choose vileness and evil and despair! But wait! There’s more! In choosing, I offer you a choice of my own. Look!”

  And Sheol’s free hand gestured into the snow to Faraday’s right.

  Faraday looked, and cried out, both hands to her face in horror. “No!”

  “Yes,” Sheol whispered. “Yes, indeed. Your power tells you the truth of this vision, doesn’t it?”

  And the very worst thing was that Faraday’s power did tell her the truth of this vision.

  The Dark Tower.

  And inside the mausoleum, the black marbled and columned interior of the Dark Tower.

  Worse, there was yet more.

  Katie, sobbing and terrified, dangling between the grasp of Mot and Barzula.

  Katie! Katie! Katie!

  “This is the choice, Faraday,” Sheol whispered. “Qeteb will destroy one of you in his battle against DragonStar. He already has Katie, but he is willing to swap Katie for you. Give yourself to Qeteb, Faraday. Fulfil Prophecy—again—and Katie will go free.”

  Faraday was overcome with horror. What had happened? How had Qeteb managed to seize Katie. Why hadn’t Azhure looked after her properly?

  She began to weep, great, soul-tearing sobs that came from the very core of her bearing. “Oh, Katie!” she whispered. “Katie! I cannot let this happen to you!”

  There was no choice, and Faraday knew it. “Take me,” she said. “Take me.”

  Sheol broke into triumphant laughter, and rose from Faraday’s feet, seizing Faraday’s shoulders in a grip so painful that Faraday cried out and almost lost consciousness.

  “You stupidest of bitches!” Sheol said. “I’ve won, and that means DragonStar has lost!”

  “I’m sorry,” Faraday whispered into the swirling snowstorm, knowing no apology could ever be enough. “I’m sorry.”

  Three to two. The balance was in Qeteb’s camp. DragonStar had failed.

  Qeteb turned to DragonStar. He spoke, but with the mind voice only.

  The preliminaries are over, Enemy. Now it is just you and me. DragonStar, impassive even in utter defeat, nodded. Just you and me.

  Qeteb smiled. The choices are made, the outcome assured.

  DragonStar bowed his head. Aye. I accept it.

  Then let the Hunt begin!

  And Qeteb vanished, and as he vanished, the billions of creatures in and about the Maze let loose an almighty roar as if with one voice.

  Let the Hunt begin!

  Leagh clutched her Child to her breast, her eyes round and fearful. “We’ve lost!”

  Ur stared into the distance, seeing something that no-one else could. “Perhaps.”

  Chapter 65

  Abandoned

  Sheol threw Faraday down on the mausoleum floor before Mot and Barzula.

  Mot laughed, the sound violent and horrifying, and Faraday only barely managed to find the courage to raise her head.

  Katie still struggled in their grip, her eyes round and terrified, her face so white Faraday wondered that she had not already fainted.

  “Let Katie go,” she said. “Let her go. I have offered myself to take her place.”

  “Let her go? Let her go?” Sheol giggled from behind Faraday. “Why?”

  “You promised! You said that Qeteb would swap Katie for me! You said that Katie would go free!”

  “She lied to you, bitch.”

  The voice, harsh with hatred and something else that, when Faraday comprehended it, filled her with nauseous dread. No! No! Not this again!

  Qeteb walked around Sheol and stood with Mot and Barzula. His metal armour clanked and shrieked with every movement.

  Faraday, still cowering on the floor, wrenched her gaze from Katie to look at him.

  Slowly Qeteb raised a hand and lifted the visor of his helmet.

  Something horrible writhed inside, and Faraday screamed. A forked tongue flickered over the lip of the helmet’s chin-piece, as if in anticipation.

  “You promised to let her go!” Faraday screamed. “Take me, but let her go!”

  “Didn’t you hear me, cow?” Qeteb took one step towards Faraday, and she screamed, and would have wriggled away had not Sheol stamped a foot into the small of her back, pinning her to the floor.

  “Oh,” Qeteb said, “how I adore to see a woman writhing before me.”

  “Take me—” Faraday began.

  “Oh, and now she begs for me!” Qeteb crowed.

  “—but let Katie go!”

  “I do not subscribe to the principle of honour,” Qeteb said, now squatting down by Faraday. “I don’t mind ensuring DragonStar’s death any foul way I can.”

  She buried her face in her hands, unable any longer to look at the unspeakable flesh wriggling inside the helmet. Something grabbed her hair, and she knew it was Qeteb.

  He wrenched her head back, forcing her to look at him.

  Faraday gagged, the Midday Demon’s power not even allowing her to screw her eyes shut.

  “Katie stays,” Qeteb said, “as do you. You are both far too useful to me to let go.”

  He turned his head slightly, speaking to the other three Demons. “Take Katie aside, and keep her fresh for me. Wait.”

  “And you?” Sheol asked, knowing what he intended to do, but also knowing that Qeteb wanted her to ask the question.

  “Me?” Qeteb turned back to stare at Faraday again. His forked tongue slithered forth to hang dripping over his metal chin-piece. “Aren’t we repeating Prophecy here for the amusement of poor Faraday? There is only one thing for me to do to while away the time. Enjoy myself, and ease my lusts.”

  His free hand reached forward, sliding under Faraday’s gown and gripping one breast so painfully Faraday whimpered.

  She twisted, her body straining against Qeteb’s hold, and she despaired. What had Noah told her? That she would either win, and achieve complete and lasting happiness, or she would fail and achieve total annihilation.

  She had failed, and thus annihilation was hers for the asking.

  Please, God, grant me death, she pleaded, and far away, nestled against the warmth and comfort of Leagh’s breast, the Girl turned Her head and answered, No.

  Then grant me insanity! Please! I beg you!

  No. This is your destiny.

  Qeteb’s hand tightened remorselessly, and Faraday screamed, abandoned to her fate.

  Chapter 66


  Choose, DragonStar!

  DragonStar sat his Star Stallion before the Maze Gate. He had been here before, but that time seemed now to be a hundred light years ago.

  He sat, completely still, his head bowed, his almost naked body exuding the faintest of glimmers in the evening air. His stallion, mane and tail ablaze, waited patiently, although he shifted occasionally: stamping a hoof, lowering and shaking his magnificent head, or raising it again to stare through the open Gate.

  The pack of Alaunt waited to one side, the blue-feathered lizard once more in their midst—albeit hiccupping slightly.

  DragonStar sat, his face lowered, eyes almost closed, lost in his thoughts.

  Rather, lost in the thoughts and memories of the Enemy.

  Images and sounds of the Enemy’s battle with the Demons on their long ago world flickered through DragonStar’s mind. But deeper memories also surfaced, of yet older worlds, and even more ancient battles against the Demons.

  The fight against the Demons—whether that of the Enemy’s, or of yet other enemies—had been fought since the beginning of time. And always, the Demons had won.

  Now? Now was the last battle, the final confrontation. Whoever won here would carry the victory into eternity.

  Here, this night, awaited the final choice.

  Belaguez snorted again, and DragonStar raised his head and opened his eyes.

  The StarSon looked through the Maze Gate.

  Hell waited within. Millions, perhaps billions, of deformed bodies and minds tumbled and scratched and pummelled as one entity, caught in the infinite bleakness of the beating heart of the Maze.

  It writhed and pulsed and throbbed.

  It screeched and caterwauled and mewed.

  It sang seductively, it beckoned enticingly, it begged for his presence.

  In the Dark Tower.

  The Dark Tower.

  The Dark Tower was where Qeteb waited…with his choice. Qeteb’s lieutenants had won the battle of the Demons and witches, now it lay with Qeteb to offer the final choice.