next to the apple and plum orchard.”
Zenith nodded slowly; she knew it. StarWalker must be heading back to the series of herb
storerooms that were situated on the second level of this building. If Zenith hadn’t happened across
StarWalker, nor pressed her for details, she would never have known about WolfStar.
“Thank you, StarWalker,” she said, absently, disengaging herself from the woman’s grip.
“He won’t harm you,” StarWalker said.
“I’m sure he won’t,” Zenith said, and abruptly turned and walked away.
She sat in her darkened room for many hours. Thinking. Remembering. Trying to decide on
some course of action.
Zenith was stunned at her own reaction to the news that WolfStar had been found and then secreted
within Sanctuary. She would have imagined she might have felt fear, or anger, or even repulsion.
But she felt none of these. All she felt was an overwhelming desire to see him.
Why? To gloat perhaps. To spit in his face? To finally lay aside the memory of his repulsive rape and
then misuse of her body as he encouraged Niah in her attempts to control it?
Zenith didn’t know, and that was what distressed her most of all. She had thought anger and revenge
would have been at the forefront of her mind … but all she found herself thinking of was the single glimpse
she’d had of WolfStar at Fernbrake Lake. She’d been horrified by his condition — but she hadn’t felt any
anger or repulsion when she’d seen him, had she?
“No, no,” she muttered, her hands twisting in her lap, “I was distracted by the sight of Niah, that’s all.
I would have been angered and repulsed if I hadn’t been distracted by Niah.”
Zenith rose and paced about the room. She badly wanted to talk to someone, but there was no-one
left. Faraday, Gwendylyr and Leagh were each preoccupied with their own problems and their
newly-discovered roles and powers, while Azhure, although she’d been closer and warmer to Zenith in
the past few days than
Zenith could remember in many years, was still not a confidante. Not for this, and certainly not where
WolfStar was concerned. Azhure might superficially acknowledge WolfStar’s failings (murder,
manipulation, treachery, rape … the failings of any mere mortal) but he was nevertheless her father, and
she had emotional ties with WolfStar that precluded any detached discussion of him.
Besides, Zenith could not get out of her mind the fact that Azhure had also encouraged the
Niah-soul’s attempt to take over Zenith’s body.
StarDrifter? Could she go to StarDrifter? Zenith found herself standing before the door to the
corridor. She trusted him more than any. She loved him. He would be understanding.
About WolfStar?
“Why am I feeling this way?” Zenith whispered. “Why?” She felt as though some mean-spirited giant
had taken an enormous wooden spoon and stirred up her entrails. She was a mass of conflicting
emotions, and yet she could not identify any of them.
And she did not know what to do, nor who to talk to. Was it just mention of WolfStar, or was
it that combined with her feelings of disassociation and uselessness which had been growing for
weeks now?
Zenith closed her eyes, gripped the door handle tightly, and made up her mind.
She had to talk to someone.
She turned the handle, opened the door, and walked into the corridor, vanishing into the gloom.
Chapter 25
Into the Sacred Groves
“I am not sure it was such a good idea to goad the StarSon,” Sheol said. “Nor tell him about the
Sacred Groves. And most certainly it was not a good idea to let him know how vital the individual
combats between us and his are!”
Sheol’s mouth pouted in a show of petulance that Barzula, Mot and Raspu privately thought would
bring her to a very, very bad end.
But Qeteb surprised them. He had retained the congenial, handsome facade he’d shown DragonStar,
and now walked about their glade, tossing an apple from one hand to the other.
Qeteb was in an extremely good mood. Infinite power coupled with infinite destruction lay in his
immediate future, and that made him a trifle mellower than usual. He took a bite out of the apple.
“DragonStar would have guessed the fate of the Sacred Groves soon enough,” he said around the
bits of creamy apple flesh that fell from his mouth. “And knowing precisely what rides on the individual
combats will make him insecure, not more powerful. Sometimes knowledge undermines, not empowers.”
His eyes slid to Niah, still lying waiting soullessly for whatever his pleasure might be next.
Qeteb’s lips curled in a sly smile, and he spat out the remaining fragments of the apple, tossing the
core away to a rabid weasel nosing amid a dungheap behind one of the fruit trees.
Qeteb’s face flickered in distaste as the weasel snatched at the core. He thought that once he got the
new order working nicely within this wasteland, he might do something about the more pungent aspects
of his horde of maniacal admirers.
Then he bent down to Niah, and stroked her hair. Bitch. Her form did not appeal at all, but it was
female and it was fertile, and that is all that Qeteb cared about. His hand slid down to her belly, and
pressed down.
Her body nourished the foetal flesh that would eventually harbour Rox’s soul. A shame that the new
flesh took so long to grow. There were magics and enchantments that could be used to speed up the
process, but even so it would be many weeks before Niah’s body had fulfilled its purpose and Qeteb
could dispose of it once and for all.
“Good little wife,” he muttered, and patted her cheek. “Dear girl.”
Weeks it might take, but in the meantime Niah was going to come in very, very useful.
Barzula appeared at his shoulder, and Qeteb looked up.
“What are you going to do?” Barzula asked. His voice was laden with suppressed excitement. His
three companions and he had thought that Qeteb would act instantly to use Niah’s latent powers, and
now they grew impatient.
Best not to show it too much, though.
Qeteb stood up and straightened out the fine grey wool tunic he wore.
“We go to the Sacred Groves, and we eat,'” he said, and the other four Demons broke into howls
of anticipation, holding hands and capering about in a circle.
“We need the power that we will obtain there,” Qeteb continued, and then paused, his eyes fixing on
some distant, unseen point as he thought of all the power he and his could feed on in the Sacred Groves.
The silence lengthened.
Qeteb visibly shook himself, then spoke again. “We need that extra power to —”
“Destroy Sanctuary?” Sheol said, letting her eagerness get the better of her sense.
Qeteb roared, and flung out a stiff arm, hitting Sheol in the cheekbone.
There was a distinct crack, and Sheol fell over, but she scrambled to her feet, letting neither Qeteb’s
anger nor her swelling face distract her from her hunger.
“What then?” she whispered. Her cheek quivered, and then rearranged itself back into a normal
shape.
Qeteb stared at her, then spoke. “We restore Rox’s soul to the scrap of flesh within that woman’s
belly —”
“But that won’t do any good!” Mot said. He stepped forward, his skeletal arms wrapped
about himself as if his overabundant hunger would make him consume himself at any moment. “He can’t
be born yet, and —”
“Will no-one allow me to finish?” Qeteb bellowed, and the other Demons subsided, dropping
their eyes and shuffling their feet.
It was a show of respect only. They were far too excited at the thought of the power that lay ahead
to be too submissive.
“Have you learned nothing from all the worlds we have consumed? All the souls we have
absorbed? Ah!”
Qeteb stalked away a few paces, then strode back, bent down and seized Niah by the hair, and
hauled her to her feet.
Her face registered no pain, no offence.
Qeteb shook her so violently her arms and legs jiggled. “She is soulless. There is nothing there! If
Rox inhabits the flesh within her flesh, then he can control her from her womb. He can control her
power\”
“Why not simply give Rox her body to inhabit?” Sheol asked. Why bother with all this waiting for
the foetus Qeteb had planted to reach a viable state?
Qeteb stared at Sheol, allowing rage to suffuse his face. Initially, he’d wanted to give Rox a new
body of flesh to inhabit — Niah’s flesh had been somewhat overused, after all. But now there was a
very, very good reason he didn’t want Rox to have permanent control of this woman’s body: if
she was so infused with the Enemy’s power, then Qeteb wanted none of the other Demons to control it
for very long. That Rox would do so for some few short weeks or months did not trouble Qeteb — after