Seek., DragonStar said to Faraday with his mind voice, and she sought.
She remembered the feel of Isfrael within her body, the thud of his infant heart against the walls of
her womb, the feel of him, of his body, his spirit, his soul. She concentrated so hard that eventually she
could feel the sensations again, feel the weight of him within her, feel the love that they’d shared during
that time.
And she sent her senses scrying through space and time, searching out the recent memories of her
son.
In Leagh’s chamber. Faraday knew he’d been in Leagh’s chamber, so she started there.
Where was IsfraePs memory? Where? Where?
There! A shadow slipped across her mind, and Faraday concentrated as hard as she could. She
was distantly aware of DragonStar’s, Gwendylyr’s and Goldman’s minds accompanying
hers, but they were familiar and loved and safe, and she paid them no heed.
All she thought of was Isfrael.
There he was, his hands on Leagh, his hate rippling across his face. The door, in bis hands,
stretching so he could step through it … Leagh, desperately fighting her way upright and across
the bed so she could close the door before Isfrael could take it with him —
Quick! DragonStar’s mind spoke. Quick, we must through the door before Leagh
closes it!
And there was a surge of power from the other three, and Faraday felt herself being propelled
through the doorway even as Leagh closed it down about … them. Yes, Faraday allowed herself a
moment of relief. The other three had come through with her. They were with her. They would protect
her.
Back in the room Axis and Azhure stared at the four forms before them. They were still there,
but slumped and almost lifeless.
“They’ve gone through the door,” Azhure said very softly. “Stars help them now.”
Axis’ hand slipped down to the sword at his side, then lifted back to his lap again.
They were fleeing with Isfrael through Spiredore — Gods! DragonStar’s mind said, this
memory is so cold! First to the dead end of the blue-misted tunnel when Isfrael had thought to enter the
Sacred Groves direct…
The Sacred Groves! thought Faraday. He wants to go to the Sacred Groves!
… and then into the circle of apple trees.
They saw with his eyes the circle of stumps, and then they saw with his eyes the
Niah-woman, and felt his joy that she was there.
And then they saw the Demons.
“Hello,” said Qeteb. “So glad you dropped in.”
And all four felt fingers of iron close about their minds.
Axis and Azhure jumped, and Axis swore briefly, softly.
The bodies of DragonStar and the other three slumped completely, losing all muscle tone and all
colour.
Axis would have thought them dead save that their chests continued to rise and fall; slowly,
reluctantly, almost imperceptibly.
“What do we do?” Azhure said.
“Wait,” said Axis.
His hand closed about the hilt of his sword.
They found themselves in a mansion of many rooms: they stood in a central atrium, with numerous doors
and corridors darting off at odd angles.
DragonStar felt Gwendylyr panic, and he steadied her.
She looked at him with frightened eyes, although her panic had eased. “I can feel you,” she said.
DragonStar nodded, trying to think out what had happened. But whatever had happened, it had
gone badly. Qeteb had pulled them into a different existence or dimension. Were their bodies still back in
the room with Axis and Azhure? He glanced at his own body, tapping his hands together gently.
They felt insubstantial, and when DragonStar looked at Faraday, he saw that there was no
depth behind her eyes.
“I have created for you a semblance of your forms,” a voice echoed about them, and all four looked
about, instinctively bunching together.
“An apparition only,” the voice continued, and Goldman jerked up a hand to point down one of the
corridors.
At the far end was an old, hunchbacked man dressed entirely in black. He had long strands of silver
hair brushed over a balding scalp, and his face was cadaverous.
“And yet,” the man whispered, “were I to plunge this dagger —” he lifted a hand, and it held
a gleaming, jagged edged knife in it, “— into any of your hearts, your true body would spurt
blood and die.”
Before any of them could react, the horrible, wizened old man scuttled with the speed of an
attacking spider down the corridor, the dagger raised high above his head.
Both Gwendylyr and Faraday gasped in horror, and DragonStar thrust them behind him.
“Goldman,” he began, “get the girls away from —”
The old man vanished, and they were left with the sound of their own harsh breathing and the sad
comfort of their fear.
“How do we get out of here?” Goldman said eventually. He turned slightly to look DragonStar in the
face, and DragonStar was surprised by how quickly Goldman had managed to compose himself.
“We find a way,” DragonStar said.
“But don’t you want to know what Isfrael was doing here?” the old man’s voice said again. This time
it came from high above them, and their heads jerked up.
There was a balcony running around the top third of the atrium, and the man was hanging
by one hand from its railing, dangling into the space above their heads.
He still held the dagger threateningly in the other hand, and he swung to and fro, his legs bent, as if
deciding which one to drop on first.
“Isfrael knows who will win,” the man said, “and has acted accordingly. I find I quite like the fellow.
Especially after he gave me the secret to your eventual destruction.”
He let go, and dropped.
He fell directly towards Gwendylyr.
DragonStar grabbed at her arm, but Gwendylyr held her ground, staring as if totally unperturbed by
the curled black shape hurtling towards her.
It hissed, and vanished the instant before it hit her, and only when it had gone did Gwendylyr allow
herself to flinch.
Faraday took her hand, and pulled her close, but she spoke to DragonStar. “Do you think he is
telling us the truth?”
Watch … a voice echoed through their minds, and the air rippled before them, and they saw Isfrael
standing in the circle of stumps, talking to Qeteb. They could hear no words, but they saw him gesture
emphatically towards Niah.
“Niah,” whispered DragonStar. ” What is it about Niah?”
They saw the Demons gather about Qeteb … and then they saw Qeteb produce the wooden bowl.
Faraday gave a low cry, her free hand clasped to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
“Can he get to the Sacred Groves using that bowl?” DragonStar hissed at her, and Faraday
nodded.
“With the Demons’ power behind him, yes!”
And then the vision gave truth to her words, for they saw Isfrael use the bowl, and then vanish.
The vision faded, but as it did so, there was a clunk on the floor before them, and there was the
bowl.
Brimming with clotted blood.
The blood that will run through the Sacred Groves, whispered the voice in their minds.
Faraday let Gwendylyr go and lunged for the bowl, but it vanished the instant before she could grab
it.
“DragonStar!” she said, standing up and turning about.
“We need to get out of here,” he said, and reached for their hands. “Get back to our —”
No.
The atrium and the doors and corridors rippled, and then vanished, and in the instant before
they, too, vanished, DragonStar shouted: “It is an illusion! There is nothing to fear!”
There is everything to fear, fool.
Each felt the comfort of the others’ hands evaporate, and the four found themselves standing in
individual corridors.
Each twisted around, trying to see from which direction the danger would come down the bland,
pastel-walled hallways.
DragonStar stared, and then half-smiled. Two could play at this game. He closed his eyes,
concentrated, and in the next moment two insubstantial hounds appeared at his side.
Sicarius and FortHeart.
“I have lost my comrades,” DragonStar said. “Hunt.”
The hounds scented the air, and then they bounded down the corridor, DragonStar close behind
them, the lily sword in his hand.
He fought down his apprehension. Why hadn’t he found the time to tell the other three of what he’d
learned about the Book?
But he had not had the time, and DragonStar knew he would have to find them before the Demons
either killed them, or took control of their minds.
Faraday turned about, and found herself face to face with two Demons.
At least, that’s what she supposed they were, although they had taken the form of a broom and a
rake.
Both were enormous, twice the size of any broom or rake Faraday had ever seen. Their handles
were constructed of rough, splintery wood, three times the thickness of her wrist, and while the rake had