And that suited StarLaughter’s logically-maddened plan perfectly.
They’d emerged from Spiredore’s blue tunnel at the northern foot of Talon Spike. Of the mountain, only
the lower third remained: the top portions lay over nearby peaks and in valleys in great, black, jagged
boulders. StarLaughter looked about the area where she stood; it was pebbly, slick with ice and
crisscrossed with cracks and chasms, but it was navigable nevertheless. Here had once wound a great
glacier, but that had exploded into billions of deadly ice shards during Qeteb’s rape of the land, and the
shards had dispersed over the entire Alps.
Now, the hidden tunnels into the mountain’s basements were revealed.
StarLaughter grinned, and dragged WolfStar towards the entrance to a tunnel slightly to the east.
After three steps, WolfStar finally managed to wrench himself free with a mighty effort.
“You cold-souled bitchl” he cried, his breath frosting in the air. “What are you doing now?”
“Trying to save your life,” she said, leaning down to grab him once again. “You’ll thank me for it soon
enough.”
WolfStar laughed, hard and bitter. “And doubtless you also work to save Tencendor from the
Demons.”
“There are better things for us to save than the damned land.” Don’t you hear our son screaming
for us to save him? Don’t you hear him, WolfStar?
“You were ever the traitor, StarLaughter. That is the one thing you cannot betray.”
She straightened, and stared at him. Her face was inscrutable. “We loved each other once.”
“It was a lie. We never loved each other. We only used each other.”
She refused to hear his words. “We can love each other again.”
“Have you gone mad!” WolfStar rolled over a little, laughing at his unintentional joke, and managed
to get to his feet.
“Good,” StarLaughter said. “You can walk. Now I won’t have to drag you.”
“I can walk away from you, you treacherous whore,” WolfStar whispered, and he gave a
sudden, great lurch to the edge of a chasm.
“No!” StarLaughter screamed, and lunged for him, but it was too late.
“You’ll never get your claws into my soul again,” WolfStar said, and stepped off the edge.
StarLaughter dropped to her knees, her wings rising behind her. Surely she could haul him out!
But the gap was too narrow. WolfStar had fallen into a chasm less than two arm-spans
wide, and while it was wide enough to gobble him up, it was not wide enough to give
StarLaughter room to manoeuvre her wings in order to effect a rescue.
The chasm dropped to unknowable depths, black rock slicked with ice, and there was no sign of
WolfStar save for a smear of blood on a rock some two paces down.
StarLaughter stared, and then laughed, sending it ringing down the chasm. “You might think to
escape me, or think to fool me into believing you dead, WolfStar,” she shouted, “but your efforts are
wasted. Our love is destined!”
And then she lifted her head, and glanced at the sky. The laughter died from her face, and she got to
her feet, slipping very slightly on the ice, and turned towards the tunnel entrance. WolfStar had
escaped for the moment, but StarLaughter knew that Fate would ensure their paths crossed again.
After all, weren’t they meant to enjoy a destiny together?
An instant’s hesitation, then StarLaughter ran inside the tunnel, wondering if, at the least,
she might find a cloak left over from the Icarii’s residency.
The Hawkchilds soared in a great black cloud in the thermals that rose from the central plain of the
wasteland. They had been set to the hunt, and they revelled in it.
Save … save for the object of the hunt. Like StarLaughter had once done, the Hawkchilds had given
their allegiance to the Questors in return for power and an entry back into the world they’d been tipped
from.
Like StarLaughter had once been driven, the Hawkchilds Were driven by one necessity:
revenge on WolfStar. If the Questors — the Demons — gave them power, well and good. The
Hawkchilds were grateful and they would do the Demons’ bidding.
So long as their bidding did not interfere with the great quest for revenge, and so long as they were
not required to hunt one of their own.
And the Hawkchilds still regarded StarLaughter as one of their own: they had not learnt of the shift in
her priorities, or of the deeper madnesses that had claimed her mind.
Nevertheless, they did as Qeteb ordered and rose on the thermals before separating in a dozen
different directions. They would find StarLaughter, but for their own purposes, not Qeteb’s.
StarLaughter walked through the corridors of the deep underground interior of Talon Spike.
Some sections of the corridors had crumbled when the top of the mountain had exploded, and the rubble
forced StarLaughter to sometimes scramble over it, and sometimes detour through alternative hallways.
This was not the Talon Spike she remembered.
In her time the Icarii had used Talon Spike mainly as a summer retreat, a pleasure palace.
Consequently, the very fabric of the mountain had been consecrated to the pursuits of pleasure: seduction
nests, silken spaces for sleeping, great soaring halls for singing and flight dances. Even the walls had been
steeped in music and laughter.
Now all was grey and silent. StarLaughter realised that this was largely due to the cessation of the
Star Dance — the Icarii had breathed life into the mountain almost exclusively through the enchantments
they’d woven from the Star Dance — but she could also see that Talon Spike had been put to a more
sober purpose over past times.
She passed chambers that were more ascetic than luxurious — and what Icarii ever enjoyed
asceticism? She walked into some of the lower halls that were filled with stacks of books and
parchments, rather than silken banners and musical instruments. She glanced through sleeping chambers
that had beds designed for one (for one!) rather than two.
StarLaughter paused in the doorway of one chamber and shuddered. It looked almost as if … as if
the mountain had been used as a centre of learning and study rather than pleasure!
“Well, at least Qeteb did nothing but good here when he destroyed,” she muttered, continuing on
down the corridor. “Learning! What had come over the Icarii!”
Despite the depressing degree of soberness and asceticism, StarLaughter finally found what she’d
been looking for in a chamber only two levels above the basement: a chest of silken wraps. She sighed
with pleasure as she lifted out a scarlet robe
edged with beaten gold, and she hastily shed her tattered and bloodstained blue robe and put on the
scarlet one.
StarLaughter wasn’t sure how her blue robe had got so befouled, nor why she’d allowed
herself to continue wearing it for so long.
There was a mirror to one side and StarLaughter stood contentedly and preened, smoothing the
material over her body, twisting this way and that in admiration.
How many birdmen had lusted after this body? Wolf Star certainly, and StarLaughter knew that
many other birdmen had wanted her as well. Had she ever indulged any of their lustings?
StarLaughter’s brow creased. No. No, she hadn’t … had she? She’d always been true to
WolfStar.
That’s why Fate would bind them together again.
StarLaughter laughed, immersed in her beauty and the feel of the robe. WolfStar would not be able
to resist her!
After a few more admiring moments, StarLaughter continued on her way. The corridors and
stairwells were clear this deep in, and she had no trouble finding the basements.
They were dank and cold, but StarLaughter could feel the power that remained here. It was a
residual power, as if the enchantments were fading after whatever they protected had been
removed, but it was enough, and StarLaughter knew that Qeteb, or any of the other Demons, would not
be able to spy her out here.
“It is not a palace fit for me,” she observed, but sank down gracefully in the centre of the
chamber, folding her legs underneath her and her wings against her back.
She faced the door, and waited.
And as she waited she allowed herself to further remember, and she laughed very softly,
remembering the first time WolfStar and she had made love.
Many hours passed, and StarLaughter succumbed to her lethargy. She dozed, for how long she could
not tell, but when she came to awareness again, she sensed she was no longer alone.
StarLaughter raised her head and stared toward the door.
A young Icarii birdwoman stood there. She had white wings and fair, translucent skin, but their
beauty was absorbed and murdered by the black gown she wore. She had fine gold hair that curled
about her forehead, violet eyes and a full and sensuous
mouth, but her beauty was spoiled by the expression of sadness that she wore, almost as a cloak over
her depressing robe.
“Hello, StarGrace,” StarLaughter said. “I have been expecting you.”