Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

us —”

“He had no right! None/”

“He is Axis’ father, and he is a friend so dear to me that I can hardly bear his grief,” Azhure said

evenly. “And you are my daughter, and WolfStar is my father. We are all tangled up in a web so intricate,

and so intricately painful, that no-one within the web can escape the grief and heartbreak of another. I

have every right to talk to you about this, Zenith. What you do affects us all —”

“Oh, so I am to be blamed for everyone’s pain, am I? What about you? What about your and Axis’

abandonment of me, and of DragonStar and RiverStar, while you pampered Caelum and then fled to

your godly pinnacle of accomplishment and starry meditations? Don’t speak to me of intricate webs!”

Azhure’s hands tightened, stopping Zenith from pulling completely away.

“Then please, please, talk to me as your friend! Forget the fact that I am your mother! Talk to

another woman who has felt so much of what —”

Zenith turned her face away.

Azhure lowered her face as she thought desperately of what she could say next. Finally, she looked

at Zenith again, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“Zenith, you are right to lay so much blame on my shoulders, as on Axis’. There is nothing I can say

or do now to negate what we — what I — did to you. I can’t even ask for your forgiveness. But, Zenith,

I just want to help. Please … please …”

Something in Azhure’s voice finally made Zenith turn her face back to her mother. She stared, closed

her eyes briefly, then stepped forward and embraced her mother.

Azhure clung to her, sobbing, and Zenith found herself soothing her mother when all she

wanted was to be soothed herself.

And then, magically, she was, for Azhure had pulled her down to the ground, and was holding her

and rocking her and murmuring to her the words that Zenith had needed to hear for years, and in that

embrace Zenith felt so treasured, and so loved, that she could hardly bear it, and she

broke down and wept.

By the fireside, WolfStar opened his eyes, and stared. What was that bitch saying to Zenith?

In time, Azhure quieted her daughter, and wiped away her own tears, and they sat themselves more

comfortably and talked.

“If I could somehow be with StarDrifter,” Zenith finally said, very softly, “then, believe me, I would.

He is a man I should be able to be happy with. But now it is too late. Far too late.”

“How so — too late?” Azhure’s fingers slowly stroked back the hair from Zenith’s forehead.

“I have committed myself to WolfStar now.”

Committed? “You have bedded with him?”

Zenith tensed, then nodded.

“Oh, my dear, that means nothing. StarDrifter will not hold that against you. That fact will not stand

between you.”

“It is far more than that, Azhure. I feel a companionship with WolfStar that I cannot feel with

StarDrifter. And I feel a responsibility for WolfStar that —”

“Oh, I don’t believe that! Zenith, all you have to do is walk away from WolfStar! You do not have

to become StarDrifter’s lover if you do not want to, but for the gods’ sakes, girl … WolfStar is

not the man for my daughter!”

Zenith smiled, wondering if she should remind her mother about the time Azhure had all but pushed

Zenith into WolfStar’s arms, then decided against it. That was so long ago, and so many heartbreaks ago.

“I cannot, Azhure. I cannot leave him. I know I should … but I cannot.”

Azhure, almost panicked by the resignation in her daughter’s voice, began to protest when a shadow

fell over them.

It was WolfStar, with three of the Lake Guard in close attendance.

“Azhure,” he said, and nodded at her. “How are you these days? No, please, I don’t truly want an

answer. Family reunions were never my strength. Zenith. Come. It is cold by the fire without

you.”

For a heartbeat or two Zenith hesitated, feeling the warmth of her mother’s arms about her, seeing

WolfStar’s hand stretched out for hers.

She hesitated still further, desperately wanting to stay locked within the protective warmth and love

of her mother’s encircling arms, but knowing that, in the end, she could not.

And at that realisation, Zenith felt such a profound sense of doom that she almost let go of life

completely. She struggled frantically against a black insanity, battled, then won, but feeling herself the

loser even in that victory.

Resigned and compliant, she pushed back her mother’s arms and let WolfStar draw her to her feet.

As he turned to take Zenith back to the fire, WolfStar looked Azhure in the eye. “Tell StarDrifter to

go back to his meaningless seductions, for he has lost the battle for the jewel.”

And with that, they were gone.

Azhure stared after them, not comprehending, and not wanting to. Then she somehow

managed to rise to her feet and, through a blur of tears, wend her way back to Axis and

StarDrifter to tell them they’d lost a daughter and a lover.

Chapter 43

StarLaughter’s Quest

DragonStar’s five witches needed time, space and peace in which to prepare themselves, and the Strike

Force were there to give them every possible chance of having it.

Of the five, Gwendylyr needed to prepare fastest, for she would be tested first.

“What can I do for you?” said DeepNote, the Wing Leader in overall charge of the three Wing who

protected Gwendylyr. It was still night time, and the majority of the Strike Force huddled inside the cave,

clinging to rocks as they could. “What do you need?”

“Peace, and a few days in which to construct my …”

“Trap?”

Gwendylyr hesitated, then shook her head. “No. Not a trap. A fork.”

“A fork?” DeepNote shifted from foot to foot, and glanced at his lieutenant.

Gwendylyr smiled, but it was sad. “I do not construct a trap for the Demon — for to do that would

be to fall into his own trap. No, what I do is rather to construct a fork in his road, a fork where he must

choose freedom or servitude.”

“And what will that do?” DeepNote said.

“It will destroy him or it will save him,” Gwendylyr said, “and the Demon will not relish either

choice.”

“How will you build this ‘fork’?” asked MirrorWing, DeepNote’s lieutenant.

Now Gwendylyr grinned broadly. “By doing what I do best,” she said. “By making up a list.”

And while the two birdmen looked perplexed, Gwendylyr moved away to a free spot and sat down,

arranging her features calmly, closing her eyes, and meditating.

Both birdmen — indeed, all the Strike Force members who were in the cave — could feel the

power emanating from her, but they could not yet see what enchantment it was she was

constructing from her Acharite magic.

“A list?” MirrorWing muttered.

DeepNote sighed. “Well, we must do what we can, and I fear there will be a great deal to do.

Gwendylyr, as all five witches, will act as a lodestone to the crazed who populate this wasteland. Within

hours, we will be surrounded again.”

MirrorWing’s face tightened, and his silvery-grey body swayed slightly in his eagerness.

“Then we will be useful, for every creature we kill —”

“Transforms and moves on,” DeepNote murmured.

“— will be one less corruption to free Tencendor of.”

DeepNote hesitated, then nodded. “Aye. We each have our own tasks to do.”

And he turned away and moved to speak quietly to the Wing.

Gwendylyr opened one eye as he walked away, then closed it and smiled gently.

She was deep in contemplation of domestic servants and the chaos they could cause when left to run

amok.

StarLaughter had found the decision about what to do a difficult one. After she’d left DragonStar — how

could he not see that Wolf Star would welcome her with open arms? — StarLaughter had returned to

the deep, undamaged vaults of Star Finger. There, she’d spent several hours rummaging until she had

found what she needed.

The implements of seduction.

Perfumes, powders, face paints. Bangles, pendants, earrings. Corsets, bustiers, veils. Nail varnishes,

hair brighteners, wing softeners. Creams, potions, smoothers. Gold, silks, brocades.

Most of these StarLaughter packed into a small bag. Her implements were small-sized, and the silks

and jewellery could fit into the smallest of spaces.

What she could not fit into the bag, StarLaughter fitted onto her person, for who knew when she’d

come face to face with WolfStar again! Best to be prepared, best to look her best now, just in case.

So she perfumed, painted and powdered. She draped, tightened and revealed. She varnished,

pampered and pandered.

StarLaughter made herself beautiful. She sparkled, and all for WolfStar.

“He won’t be able to resist me!” she said, preening before the mirror, and tugging at the heavy silk