Sara Douglass - Pilgrim

“You were ever the consummate play-actor,” Axis said, hate and sarcasm infusing his voice and face.

Drago stopped his search to stare at his father. “I —”

“ I have had enough of you and your lies!” Axis said, and turned back to Caelum.

He took a deep breath, and calmed himself. “We still have hope, Caelum. Adamon and the other gods have gone to Star Finger and await us there. If we go to the mountain we will have the advice and knowledge of the past six or seven thousand years that is stored there. There must be something secreted in the damned mountain that can help us! Besides, I cannot help but believe the Sceptre will find its way to the StarSon in time. It is fated thus, and thus it must be.”

Unnoticed, the donkeys twitched their ears slightly, and one of them dipped her head to the ground, as if trying to hide unwanted mirth.

Caelum nodded, comforted by the surety in his father’s voice. “And now that the Demons are through and no longer blocking the Star Gate, there’s every chance that we might be able to regain a part of the Star —”

“The Star Gate has been destroyed,” Zenith said, wishing she did not have to say it. “We will never hear the Star Dance again.”

To one side StarDrifter groaned and sank to one knee, head in hand.

Axis’ face worked, and he shot Drago a look of such utter malevolence that his son had to turn his face aside, but Axis finally managed to speak relatively calmly.

“Then there is no point in lingering here. StarDrifter, I say to you, and to you, Dare Wing, and to you, Zared, that if you want to believe Faraday’s assurances then I cannot stop you — but don’t try to stop my efforts to help this land! Azhure and I will take Caelum back to Star Finger. Already, Adamon and the others who were once gods gather there.

“Zared, in Caelum’s absence I need you to take command of the army. DareWing, through you Zared will command the Strike Force as well — support him.”

DareWing nodded.

“And my task while you and Caelum are in Star Finger?” Zared said.

“Perhaps the worst task of all,” Axis responded. “Deal with the devastation as best you can. Save as much and as many as best you can. Save a Tencendor for my son … for us all.”

“I will do my best, StarMan.”

“Do not call me that,” Axis said dryly. “Now I am no more the StarMan than you.”

He turned about, meaning to talk to Azhure, but his eye was caught once more by Drago, and his face darkened.

“Drago,” Axis thrust a finger at him, “come within shouting distance of Star Finger and no-one will be able to stop me killing you. Do you understand?”

Drago was standing still, patiently enduring Zenith’s bandaging of his throat. “I, like you,” he said, “will do whatever I have to in order to right the wrongs done to this land, father. I wish you would believe me. I will do anything I can. ”

“Neither I nor this land nor Caelum needs your aid,” Axis said. “You are filth! I disowned you as a child, Drago, and there is nothing in this life that will ever make me accept you now. I do not love you, and I never will, and I swear before every Star that can still hear me that I wish you the death you deserve for your misdeeds. Damn you! You are nothing but worm-filled shit in my eyes!”

Drago flinched and his already white face went whiter.

Axis spun about on his heel. “Zared, may Azhure and I requisition a horse apiece? We must ride our way north as Spiredore is undoubtedly useless now the Star Dance is dead.”

Zared nodded. “I will also send a unit of men with you. You will surely need some protection wandering north — gods know where the TimeKeepers are now.”

“Good. Azhure, my love,” Axis held out his hand to her. “Say your goodbyes … to whoever deserves it. Caelum, fetch whatever you need to bring with you.”

“Axis?”

Axis turned to look at Faraday.

“Axis, keep to shelter — whether beneath trees or inside houses — during the Demonic Hours. You will remain safe that way.”

Axis continued to stare at her, then he spun about and walked away. Faraday turned her attention back to Drago’s wound.

The gathering slowly dissipated as people drifted off, to prepare for departure or to sink back before fires and mull over the scene they’d just witnessed.

Sicarius melted back into the shadows, rejoining the pack of Alaunt.

Faraday pushed Drago back to the ground and helped Zenith more securely bind his neck.

“The staff!” Drago said. “It was here! I know it! Where —”

“Hush,” Faraday said, and laid gentle fingers on his lips. “Hush now, please.”

“I have to help,” Drago said. “I must!”

“I know,” Faraday whispered. “I know.”

She and Zenith tucked the loose end of the bandage in, then Zenith smiled, patted Drago on the shoulder, and rose and walked off to talk with StarDrifter.

Faraday waited until she had gone, then laid an apologetic hand on one of Drago’s.

“StarDrifter was right,” she said softly. “I should have thought before walking you so blatantly forth into this glade.”

“I deserved much of that, Faraday,” he said, and sighed. “No-one knows better than me that I deserve both Caelum’s and my parents’ distrust.”

“Don’t ever say —” Faraday began fiercely, when Azhure’s voice behind her stopped her.

“Zenith?” she said.

Azhure very pointedly did not look at Drago.

Faraday felt for her. Torn between son and husband, watching the world that she’d fought for so hard die about her. Losing immortality. Losing enchantment.

Wondering why Sicarius had attacked her husband, rather than Drago.

“She went that way,” Faraday inclined her head, “with StarDrifter.”

Azhure nodded, risked one glance at Drago, then walked off.

Azhure found Zenith standing close with StarDrifter by a group of tethered horses. They were talking quietly, sharing information about their movements since they had parted on the Island of Mist and Memory.

As Zenith looked up at her approach, Azhure asked bluntly, “Zenith — or Niah?”

“Zenith,” her daughter replied softly. “Zenith reborn, not Niah.”

Azhure hesitated, then nodded. She stood indecisively, as if wondering whether to touch Zenith or not. “Will you tell me what happened?”

“I know what your mother meant to you,” Zenith said, “and I know what sacrifice she made for you. We have all treasured and revered her memory. But … but the soul that tried to seize mine had changed. She was warped by her dreadful death. All pity had been seared from her. Mother, I was never Niah, and I could not agree to let her kill me so she could live again.”

Azhure’s eyes were bright with tears, and she put a trembling hand to her mouth. “How?”

Zenith glanced at StarDrifter, both of them remembering that dreadful night that Zenith had forced the Niah-soul into the girl-child she carried, and had expelled the child from her body, killing her.

But how could Zenith tell Azhure that? Her mother loved Niah deeply, and treasured her memory, and it would only wound Azhure to be told the manner of Niah’s second death.

“Something of the Niah who had so sacrificed herself for you remained, mother. When she realised the extent of my distress she acquiesced, and let me be. She said … she said that she had already lived her life, and was content that I should be allowed to live mine.”

Azhure stared at her, then burst into tears. Zenith leaned forward and gathered Azhure to her, rocking her gently as if she were truly the mother, and not the daughter.

For his part, StarDrifter just stared at Zenith, realising for the first time how deeply he felt for her. And how differently he felt for her.