Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

“Can you … we … fight against the Demons with what the Book tells you?” Faraday said.

DragonStar shifted even more uncomfortably. “The Book is filled with the Demons’ hatred and

horror,” he said. “I know I should use it… mirror it back to destroy the Demons —”

Faraday felt Katie tremble in her arms, and she glanced down, worried.

“— but it feels so repulsive … so …”

“Whatever it takes to destroy the Demons will surely be taxing,” Faraday said.

DragonStar finally raised his face and looked her full in the eyes. “I am very much afraid,” he said,

“that if I use that Book I will turn into a Demon myself. I do not think I will be able to stop myself.”

Chapter 15

The Secrets of the Book

DragonStar tucked the Book under one arm and considered the lizard carefully. “You stay here for the

moment,” he said. “I will be back for you.”

The lizard dropped its head, its emerald and scarlet crest deflating mournfully, and turned away.

Faraday’s mouth quirked. “It is just as well he does not speak.”

“He does not have to.”

“Will you take the hounds, and the horse?”

DragonStar hesitated.

“DragonStar, please, take them.”

He nodded.

“And be careful in Spiredore.”

“I will be more than careful. I will use only its power to transfer myself into the Field of

Flowers. I will not enter the tower itself.”

Faraday stared at him, knowing his words were useless bravado. Even if they only used the

power of Spiredore to transfer from one location to the next, DragonStar, as any of them, would be

vulnerable in that instant they stepped through the doorway.

For in that instant, if they were unwary, or unlucky, or damned by Fate itself, Qeteb could

snatch at them. They could only hope that he didn’t spend his entire time wandering the stairwells of

Spiredore.

“Not he,” DragonStar said softly. “But he might have any one of his Demons patrolling.

Faraday … I will be careful.”

She leaned forward and hugged him, longing for that time when their fight against the Demons was

truly over and she and he could find the time to indulge, and relax into, their love. “I hope

Caelum can help.”

“And if not he, then there is one other I can turn to,” DragonStar said, but he was gone

before Faraday could ask who this “other” was.

She sighed, and sat back on the window bench with Katie. “I am so glad you are safe

here,” she said, stroking the girl’s head. “I could not bear it if you were exposed to danger again.”

Katie smiled, and looked away.

DareWing felt a savage glee as he wheeled his Strike Force through the skies above the Field

of Flowers.

They were superb.

Death had altered them, but only to give them a greater purpose, and a more lethal desire.

DareWing flew among them, almost lost in the swirl of jewel-bright wings and eyes and the haunting

shadows and shapes of their silvery liquid bodies. The members of the Strike Force had lost none of their

ability, or their tight discipline.

They wanted to hunt, to fight back, to strike.

And why not? thought DareWing. Stay here, DragonStar had said, until I need you, but DareWing

was impatient with the waiting. When was DragonStar returning? In the wasteland there was corruption

to be cleared, and DareWing and the Strike Force were doing no good sweeping colourfully through the

skies here.

He alighted within the Field, letting his wings relax and trail luxuriously through the poppies and lilies,

and looked up to the molten colour swirling above him.

“Come with me,” he whispered, and then DareWing closed his eyes, and thought of the icy drifts of

the northern Icebear Coast, the feel of the cold-edged wind sliding through his feathers, the cry of the

seagull, the roar of the icebear …

… and they were there, the Strike Force wheeling above him, and crying with wordless voices.

DareWing smiled, and lifted into the air.

DragonStar passed through into the Field of Flowers without incident, and with a considerable amount of

relief. Even Belaguez relaxed beneath him as he felt the spring of the flowered field

beneath his hooves, and the Alaunt bayed with joy, and bounded among the flowers, snapping at

butterflies.

And with every snap of jaw, the butterflies soared drifting into the air a handspan above the

hounds, and DragonStar smiled.

He kneed Belaguez forward, letting his body fully relax for the first time in hours, and drank in the

beauty about him. The scent, the gently waving flower heads …

… the crash and roar of surf in the distance.

DragonStar halted Belaguez for a moment. He could vaguely discern the smell of salt underlying the

scent of the flowers. He let his eyes scan the horizon, stopping at a spot that was hazier than the rest. A

coastline.

DragonStar urged Belaguez forward.

He found Caelum sitting at the very edge of a cliff that plunged down hundreds of

paces into a foam of rocks and sea spray.

RiverStar sat with him, her arm linked into his, their heads close together as they murmured to each

other.

“Caelum? RiverStar?” DragonStar lifted a leg over Belaguez’s withers and slid to the ground. The

Star Stallion snorted, then wandered away a few paces to nose among the flowers.

Caelum and RiverStar turned slightly, and smiled at DragonStar.

DragonStar stared, taken not only with their beauty, but at the peacefulness that they radiated.

Neither had been particularly peaceful in life.

Caelum’s smile broadened a little, almost as if he could read DragonStar’s thoughts. “Welcome,

brother,” he said. “Will you join us?”

RiverStar said no words, but she stood in one graceful, fluid movement, and took DragonStar’s

hand. She pulled slightly, encouraging him to sit with Caelum and herself, but DragonStar baulked.

In life RiverStar had loathed him, goaded him, and taken every opportunity to make his life

miserable.

Who was this caring, lovely-spirited woman now standing before him?

RiverStar lifted her free hand and laid it against DragonStar’s cheek.

“In life,” she said, “I was hateful, jealous, and spiteful. But once I passed the gate into the Field of

Flowers I entered a state of … of …”

Her brow creased slightly, as if her mind could not quite find the word to describe her state of

existence.

“We entered,” Caelum said, “a state of contentedness. Contentedness not only with our

environment, but with ourselves.”

DragonStar nodded slowly, realising the difference in his brother and sister. They were deeply at

peace with themselves, because they were contented — a spiritual state rather than an emotional one.

And suddenly he was content as a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. DragonStar’s mind had been

worrying at the fact that so many people appeared bored and irritated with the peace of Sanctuary,

and he’d worried about how they’d cope with the eternal peace of the Field of Flowers.

Now he understood. When people passed into the Field of Flowers they underwent a spiritual

transformation.

And they became content.

Caelum nodded as he understood DragonStar’s realisation. “There are only a few who do not

undergo this transformation,” he said. “Those who know that they must return to Tencendor, and those

who know they have work unfinished remain impervious to the contentedness of the Field.”

“The Strike Force,” DragonStar said. “They remain vengeful.”

“Aye,” Caelum said. “But come, sit down. We are gladdened to see you again.”

DragonStar smiled, and sat down beside Caelum. RiverStar let go his hand, and stepped back,

saying that she would leave them to talk.

“There are flowers I have not yet seen,” she said, her smile so sweet and gentle it made

DragonStar’s breath catch in his throat, “and walks yet to be explored. I will see you again, DragonStar,

in the days when we will all live in peace in the Field.”

She bent quickly, kissed DragonStar’s cheek, and then she was gone, fading into the weaving,

waving lilies.

For a long while Caelum and DragonStar said nothing, relaxing in each other’s company

and the scent of the flowers. Behind them, the Alaunt settled down in haphazard groups, stretching out in

the sun or grooming each other with long, liquid tongues and gentle nips.

“You have the Enchanted Song Book,” Caelum said finally, glancing at what DragonStar had under

his arm.

DragonStar looked down the cliff, fighting a wave of dizziness. He missed so much of his

Icarii heritage: the ability to fly, to dance, to sing, and, at the moment, the easy ability to withstand the lure

of appalling heights.

“Aye,” he eventually said. “I have the Enchanted Song Book. Caelum …”

“I tried it, you know.”

“I know. Axis told me.”

Caelum turned his eyes from the rolling ocean and looked back at his brother. “You have spoken to

our father?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And we are friends, if not father and son.”