“You are StarSon,” Axis said flatly. “You have demanded that title since infancy. It is your job to
know what is to be done!”
“And you went through your entire battle with Borneheld and Gorgrael with nary a single doubt,
Axis?” DragonStar said. “You walked through the entire adventure gloriously confident and without
putting a single foot wrong, without losing a single bloody life to your mistakes?”
Axis looked away.
“The icepack cracks and reforms,” Sa’Domai said. “No-one ever knows where the cracks will
appear next, but the icepack always reforms.”
DragonStar took a deep breath, both grateful for Sa-Domai’s philosophical interjection, and
resentful at his calmness.
“I do not doubt that Sanctuary will fall,” DragonStar said. “At the least, we have to plan for it.”
“And what,” FreeFall said, “do you plan to do about it?”
“If myself,” DragonStar said, “or Faraday, Goldman, Leagh and Gwendylyr are trapped here, then
we can do no good at all. We must return to the wasteland —”
“No!” Zared said, stepping forward and brushing past Axis. “Take Leagh back into the wasteland?
Have you seen her, DragonStar? Have you seen how sick and exhausted she is? Have you —”
“We have no damn choice, Zared!” DragonStar said. “None. It will be up to myself and my five
companions to battle the Demons, and we cannot do it here. I doubt that Spiredore will remain viable
much longer. We must leave now.”
And I must get my witches to the places where they will confront their respective Demons,
DragonStar thought, and where they will prepare the “weapons” that Qeteb has so kindly allowed them
to choose. We must leave now if they are to have enough time to prepare.
“And the rest of us?” Axis said as Zared turned away in disgust. “What happens to the rest
of us? You and yours might be able survive the wasteland and the Demons’ influence, but none of us can.
What happens if — when — Sanctuary falls? Where do we go?”
And the rest of the people and animals of Sanctuary. Where do they go now? Where, if nowhere is
safe?
DragonStar spread his hands helplessly. “I do not know, Axis. I simply do not know —”
Axis stepped forward and stabbed his finger into DragonStar’s chest. “If you walk out of
here now and take your four damn witches as you call them, with you, then I am assuming
command of Sanctuary! I will work to keep safe what remains of Tencendor! Run about the wasteland
all you like, DragonStar, play whatever game you want to, but I will assume responsibility for the
saving of Tencendor’s life!”
There was a silence as DragonStar stared into his father’s eyes. Then …
“Thank you,” he said. “That would be a great weight off my mind.”
Axis stared at DragonStar, then he burst into laughter: genuine, heartfelt laughter.
“Thank you,” he said, “for allowing me some purpose back into my life.”
DragonStar nodded, smiling a little himself, then looked at Faraday. “When we leave,” he said, “we
will leave Katie behind.”
“No!” Faraday said in a low, harsh voice. “You’ve said yourself that Sanctuary will fall. She
will die if we leave her here!”
“I thank you for your vote of confidence,” Axis said to one side, but Faraday ignored him.
“We take her with us! I can protect her! I will —”
“No,” DragonStar said. His voice was very flat, very hard. “She must stay here.”
Faraday stared at DragonStar, almost loathing him. Ever since she’d seen Qeteb speak out of his
mouth, seen the Demon’s malice shine from his eyes, she’d not been able to forget that voice asking her
if she would ever know whose hands caressed her body, whose voice spoke to her of love,
whose love reached out to her in the night … It had been enough to undermine the hard-found trust she
had in DragonStar, and in herself. Would she ever know
who it was? DragonStar, or Qeteb? Who was it now saying, “We must go forth into the wasteland?”
DragonStar, or Qeteb?
Katie, and her desire to protect the girl at all costs, was all that was left for her. Illogically, even
though she was not sure who was going to lead her back into the wasteland, and what might be waiting
for them there, Faraday wanted to keep Katie with her. If only Katie was with her, then she would find
some way to protect her, some way to keep her from harm. The vision she’d had many, many weeks ago
of the armoured man — Qeteb — slicing open Katie’s throat with a kitchen knife returned night after
night to haunt her.
Faraday would let nothing harm Katie. Nothing.
“Faraday,” Azhure said gently, putting her hands on Faraday’s arm, “I will look after Katie
as if she were my own.”
“As if she were your own?” Faraday hissed. “You were never good at playing the caring mother,
Azhure!”
“Faraday,” DragonStar snapped, “that is enough!” He stepped forward and took Faraday’s
other arm, pulling her away from Azhure and the rest of the group.
“Faraday,” DragonStar said in a low voice as he pulled her, stiff and resisting, over to a far corner of
the chamber, “if you cannot trust me then we might as well lie down and offer our throats to Qeteb here
and now.”
She was silent.
“You have let me lay by you at nights,” DragonStar said, his voice softer now, “and let me love you.
You trusted me then. Trust me now.”
She stared at him with hard eyes, and then tried to pull away from him.
He grabbed her before she could walk away, hanging on to her arm and speaking hard and low into
her ear; she would not look at him.
“You will know in here,” he tapped her breast with his other hand, “when it is DragonStar who
speaks to you, and when — if— it is Qeteb. You will know that!”
Faraday finally turned her eyes to him. They were wide, stricken, and so frightened that DragonStar
felt his chest constrict.
“I want more than anything in this world, or in the thousand worlds that surround and touch ours, to
be able to trust you, DragonStar. Yet to think that by trusting you I will be laying down and offering my
throat to yet another demonic lover terrifies me.”
DragonStar felt his heart break. “Gods, I love you, Faraday,” he whispered, his mouth almost
touching her ear. “I will never harm you, I will never offer you to Qeteb to save Tencendor. Please, gods
curse it, please believe me.”
“I will try,” she said, a tear finally escaping from an eye. “I will try, DragonStar.”
She pulled away again, and this time DragonStar let her go.
He wondered if he would ever have her back.
Was there nothing that could be saved from this chaos?
“I wish you luck,” DragonStar said, gripping Axis’ hand and arm, “with your self-appointed task.”
“As I wish you well with yours,” Axis said.
They fell silent, each staring into the others’ eyes, each wondering if this was the last they’d see
each other, and if this was one of the last moments of hope that Tencendor would have.
Azhure stepped forward and briefly, but fiercely, hugged DragonStar, then she turned and embraced
the other four who would leave with him.
Katie clung to Azhure’s skirts, and Faraday embraced the girl so tightly she squeaked in protest.
Azhure had to prise her loose from Faraday’s grip.
“Let nothing happen to her!” Faraday said to Azhure, and Azhure touched Faraday’s cheek with her
fingers.
“I promise to do my best for her, Faraday. Will you accept that?”
Faraday hesitated, then nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. Azhure’s best was better
than virtually anyone else’s. But even though Faraday knew she left Katie in the best of hands, she still
hungered to be able to watch her herself.
“I love you,” she whispered to the tiny girl.
“Love DragonStar instead,” Katie said. “He needs it as much as I do.”
Faraday’s face closed over slightly, and she straightened and stood back, turning her face to look
about her.
They were standing at the entrance to the valley of Sanctuary: Axis and Azhure, Zared and
Theod, and DragonStar and his group. Behind DragonStar sidled Belaguez, anxious for war; the
Alaunt, sitting, but very evidently impatient for action as well; and the blue-feathered lizard, irritably
combing out some of the feathers on his off-hind leg. His emerald and scarlet crest was rising up and
down so rapidly his plumage appeared blurred.
Zared was holding Leagh, as Theod held Gwendylyr; hard and angrily (why did their wives
have to go?}, desperately, knowing they would, in all likelihood, never see them again.
“We will meet again,” Gwendylyr tried to reassure Theod, “in the Field of Flowers, if nowhere else.”
“And if the Demons get into that, as well?” Theod said. “If they destroy the Field? If they