Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

been around some forty years, and you have some catching up to do. Now,” Qeteb leaned forward,

“listen up.

“You think that you and I must meet in a final confrontation. Correct?”

DragonStar nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving Qeteb’s face.

“Well, in that you’re right. You also believe that before you and I meet, there must be individual

confrontations between your five and my five companions. Right?”

DragonStar nodded again, but even more cautiously.

Qeteb beamed, and sat back. “My dear chap, again you are perfectly correct! Well done!

“But,” Qeteb’s entire demeanour darkened, and became triumphantly malevolent, “although you

instinctively know the broad outlines of the rules of the game, some of the subtle, legalistic

niceties have entirely escaped your attention.

“Did you know, you starry-eyed piece of shit, did you have any realisation, that the confrontation

between yours and mine will decide the outcome between you and me?”

DragonStar went cold. He desperately did not want to believe what Qeteb had said, but…

“You can feel the truth of the matter can’t you?” Qeteb said. “Oh! You naive simpleton! You

were so damned sure that because you think to represent the forces of righteousness and love and

gods know what else, you think you will win!

“Wrong. Five of yours will meet five of mine. There can be no even score. If one of yours fails, you

will be weakened, as I would be if one of mine failed. If two of yours fail, you would be

seriously weakened, as I would. If three of yours fail, you will fail because the balance will have fallen in

my favour. Do you understand?”

DragonStar stared, unable to speak.

Qeteb smiled slowly, and folded his arms across his chest. “You poor boy. You are upset. Well, I

am prepared to be magnanimous. After all, me and mine have had far longer to think about it

all, to prepare, than your sweet witches … and isn’t one of them pregnant? The poor girl! She must be

quaking in her dainty boots! Therefore I will allow your witches the choice of weapons and place —

although you and I are more bound by the rules, of course.”

There was a sweeping darkness, and a wind, and the faint cries of the Hunt through the

Maze.

“You have lost Rox,” said DragonStar. “Leagh doesn’t have to —”

Qeteb snarled. “Know that Leagh will have to attend!” The Demon leaned forward again,

swarming over the tabletop like a deformed spider. “I’ve had enough of this pretence, DragonStar! I

brought you here to make sure you know, beyond any doubt, that you will die, DragonStar. To make

sure you know beyond any doubt that you will fail. To make sure that you know beyond any doubt that

everything you love and treasure will be swallowed up to live eternity in the dark, writhing masses of my

belly. There is no way that your five can triumph over my five. I will hunt you through the Maze, StarSon.

And when I do the outcome will be inevitable!”

The four cats leapt screaming into the air, and DragonStar lifted his arms reflexively. As he did so, he

felt Qeteb reach dark, clawed fingers into his mind.

DragonStar’s body jerked and sat up.

“DragonStar?” Faraday said.

“No, you bitch,” Qeteb whispered with DragonStar’s voice. “Not your lover at all, but one who will

nevertheless eventually love you anyway.”

Faraday, as did everyone else in the room, jerked back in horror.

“DragonStar can do nothing against me,” Qeteb continued, and he twisted DragonStar’s features into

a parody of a grin. “He will die, you will all die, and everything you love shall be utterly destroyed.”

Axis’ hand fiddled with his sword, and Qeteb saw, and laughed. “If you kill this body now,

then you will still not touch me,” he said. “Nothing can touch me.”

DragonStar’s hand jerked up and touched Faraday’s face.

She scrambled back in horror.

“I can penetrate his mind at will,” Qeteb said. “Take over his body at will. I can do it. Whose voice

will issue forth at what time of the day? Whose orders will it mouth? Whose hands, Faraday, will caress

your body?”

The Demon laughed, and DragonStar’s body jerked in a violent fit. “I give you back

DragonStar,” the Demon said, “for he has some important information for you.”

DragonStar’s body gave one final jerk as Qeteb howled in laughter, and then it slumped back in its

chair.

Chapter 22

The Sacred Groves

Isfrael stared at the silver-haired Horned One. “I introduce no abomination into the grove!” he said. “I

have every right to be here and —”

The silver-pelt stepped forward and slapped Isfrael’s face so hard the Mage-King stumbled and

almost fell.

Isfrael snarled, and swung back at the Horned One, but the creature was too fast for him, and

kicked Isfrael squarely in the ribs.

The Mage-King fell to the ground, heaving in breaths in great gasps.

The Horned One kicked him again. “You gave the Demons the enchanted bowl!”

Isfrael rolled away and struggled to his hands and knees. “They already had it, you horned

aberration! Faraday, your beloved Tree Friend, gave it to them! I brought it back! We are safe, and —”

“That,” the Horned One said, pointing to the bowl where it had rolled several paces away, “is a

copy. A fake. A trick!”

Isfrael stared at him, then shifted his eyes to the bowl. “No. It can’t be.”

He looked back at the Horned One and saw for the first time the tiredness in the creature’s liquid

black eyes, the slump of his shoulders, the sagging muscles. The creature was dying.

Isfrael narrowed his eyes. “What’s happening here? Why are you so ill?” He finally struggled upright

and looked about him. The trees of the Sacred Grove were as touched by malaise as the Horned One:

their leaves were blotched and mouldy, their bark

was peeling away in great strips, their roots arched out of the earth as if trying to escape the disease

within.

“The bowl is a fake,” the Horned One said again, and lifted his hands in despair. “What are we to

do?”

Two women walked slowly out of the tree line. One, the Mother, leaned on the other’s shoulders for

support.

Ur walked strong and determined, and her ancient face was lined with anger and resolution.

“My friend?” the Mother said to the Horned One.

“Isfrael has broken through the barriers You built to seal off the Sacred Groves,” the Horned One

said.

“Impossible,” the Mother said. “No-one had the power to —”

“He sought the aid of the Demons to do so,” the Horned One said. “And Isfrael left the enchanted

bowl with the Demons. I’m afraid they now know the way along the paths.”

The Mother’s face crumpled, and She pressed a hand to Her mouth to suppress a moan.

“What does this mean?” Ur said.

“It means,” the Mother answered in a tiny voice, “that the Demons will be able to access the Groves.

They have the power and they have the vehicle.”

“Then we will fight!” Ur said, and she half-raised a fist.

The Mother smiled, a small, desperate attempt. “What with, my dear? Everything about the Groves

— the soil, the water, the air, the very soul — has been corrupted by the Demons’ influence over

Tencendor. We have nothing left to fight with. Nothing.”

“I have my pots,” Ur said, and her fist raised a little higher.

Isfrael gave a harsh bray of laughter, and turned away. Fools! He had managed to secrete himself

with fools!

He sank down under a tree, ignoring the constant patter of dead leaves that fell about him. So

… the Mother and Her impotent companions are sure the Demons will destroy the Groves?

Isfrael thought about it … what else did he have that he could bargain for his life with?

Chapter 23

Niah Reborn

“Well?” said Axis, his voice hard.

“Isfrael has betrayed us,” DragonStar said. “He has given Qeteb some secret that will enable

him to —”

“That is not what I asked.”

DragonStar looked up. His parents, Faraday, Gwendylyr and Goldman were all standing about his

chair, their faces carefully unreadable.

Only Faraday allowed the barest of emotions to glimmer forth: her eyes were pools of

horror … a remembered horror.

“What did I say?” DragonStar said. “Why do you all look at me like that?”

“Who are you?” Goldman asked. “You look like DragonStar, and you sound like DragonStar, but

who are you?”

DragonStar frowned. “What…”

“Qeteb spoke through your mouth,” Faraday said softly. Her hands were clutched

before her, twisting and writhing as if they, too, might be in the grip of some demonic possession.

“He said … he said that he could take possession of your mind at will.”

DragonStar closed his eyes and tipped his head back to rest against the back of the chair. Gods,

what had he done? Let his confidence get the better of him! Let his arrogance lead them all into ruin!