Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

her hand in a graceful arc before her.

Whenever one did that, Azhure noted that the sting of the wind eased, and warmth stole back into

her flesh.

When they’d set out, Azhure had asked them their names, but both women had smiled pleasantly,

but with deep puzzlement.

“Names?” one of them had said. “We have no need for names.”

And that had been the end of any conversation. The two women had simply walked forth into the

snow, and, after a final glance at those they left behind, SpikeFeather, Azhure and Katie had followed

them.

How long had they been walking? It had been late afternoon when they’d left the column, and night

had come and gone. Now grey light filtered through the driving snow, and Azhure, together with

SpikeFeather and Katie, stumbled every third or fourth step.

“How much longer?” Azhure muttered. “How much longer?”

“Soon,” said a voice, and Azhure looked up.

The two ice women stood before her, but Azhure did not look at them. Instead she stared at the

towering icebergs some forty or fifty paces behind them.

“Where are we?” SpikeFeather said.

“The Icebear Coast,” one of the women said. “And the icepack.”

“But that’s impossible!” Azhure said. “We were many, many leagues from the coast, and —”

“Nothing is impossible,” said the other ice woman. “Nothing.”

“Where?” SpikeFeather said. His teeth were chattering too much to say more, and his arms were

wrapped tight about himself.

His entire body was shaking.

One of the ice women put out a hand and laid it on his shoulder.

Instantly SpikeFeather’s shaking stopped, and he straightened, his eyes wide.

The woman’s sister did the same for Azhure and Katie — gods! but Azhure could feel herself

unfreezing as the woman briefly touched her — then turned and pointed towards a crack between two

grinding icebergs. “There.”

“There?” Azhure said. “But that’s too dangerous! The icebergs will crush us!”

“Nothing is ever too dangerous,” one ice woman said.

“Not until it’s killed you,” Azhure muttered.

“Ah,” the woman said, “but we do not know the caress of death!”

“Well,” Azhure said, and grinned despite herself, “keep in mind that we do.”

By Azhure’s reckoning, it took them over three hours to pick their way over the jumbled edge of the

icepack towards the icebergs.

The towers of ice reared almost a hundred paces above them, turning the light in their shadows a

grey-blue and the air so frigid that the ice women had to walk close to either side of the other three,

wrapping them in enchantments so they could continue to move.

The ice towers ground against each other, the sound a constant deep wailing and roaring that made

both Azhure and Katie plug their ears with their fingers and clench their teeth.

“Do not fear too much,” one of the sisters whispered in Azhure’s ear, and she tried to relax, if only

for Katie’s sake.

But the trembling and shaking beneath her feet! They were going to have to climb down into this

nightmare?

“There,” said one of Urbeth’s daughters. “Between the walls.”

They picked their way over the uncertain ice, and then stood, staring.

Whenever Azhure had climbed down into the Underworld previously, she’d descended down a

gently sloping spiral staircase.

Not down anything even faintly resembling this terrifying plunge.

This ice staircase descended straight down between the two grinding icebergs, their walls sliding up

and down as they fought for space in the crowded sea.

Straight down — so far Azhure could not see its end.

Stars help them if they slipped on the ice steps! They’d tumble to their deaths.

“I do not know that we should —” she began, but one of the ice women laid a hand on her arm.

“You will manage,” she said.

“Katie —”

“The girl will manage.”

Azhure briefly closed her eyes, then nodded. She took Katie’s hand, and tried to smile for her.

Katie looked at Azhure, looked at the descent before her, then looked back at Azhure. Normally so

placid, so calm, so strong, Katie’s eyes were terrified.

Azhure’s hand tightened about that of the girl’s, and she opened her mouth, trying to

find something reassuring to say, when SpikeFeather leaned down and swept the girl into

his arms.

“Put your face into my shoulder,” he said, “and doze for this trip down to the waterways. I am Icarii,

remember? My balance is like no other, and I fear no heights. You’ll be safe with me.”

Whether it was his words, his reassuring tone or his touch, Katie relaxed and, putting her arms about

his neck, lay her head trustingly in the hollow of his shoulder.

The two ice women shared a glance, and a brief nod, then one turned and stepped into the

stairwell.

“Come, SpikeFeather, Azhure,” she said. “My sister will bring up the rear to protect us

against whatever vile attack the seals have planned.”

SpikeFeather laughed, and even Azhure managed a smile.

The birdman stepped onto the first step, the ice woman two or three below him and moving

ever downward, then glanced over his shoulder at Azhure. “Take my wing,” he said, extending one

of them towards her, “and hang onto it. I can balance for all three of us.”

“Thank you,” Azhure said softly and, taking hold of SpikeFeather’s wing — it was so warm!

— she summoned her courage and stepped down.

The climb down was worse than any nightmare Azhure had ever endured. Stars, but she thought

she’d prefer to go through DragonStar and RiverStar’s appalling birth all over again if it meant she

could get to the bottom of these stairs the faster! To either side of the stairs the icebergs grated

and ground, as if cursing and throwing insults at the other berg just an arm’s span distant. Azhure

wondered if it were possible that at any moment one or the other iceberg would lose its temper

completely and lunge across the frigid distance between them to tear the throat out of the other.

No, she thought, that is just my fancy, and foolish at that.

And at that precise instant the iceberg on her right moved so suddenly and so precipitously that a

frightful grating scream filled the stairwell, and Azhure cried out and halted, letting go of Spikefeather’s

wing, her hands flying to her ears.

“You are safe,” said the ice woman behind her, laying both her hands on Azhure’s shoulders. “Safe.”

SpikeFeather had stopped, and was looking over his shoulder at Azhure; Katie, apparently, was

asleep and unconcerned, her face tranquil as it lay on his shoulder.

The birdman’s eyes were full of concern for Azhure, but Azhure thought that she could see just the

slightest tinge of panic in their depths.

She took a very deep breath, held it as she fought for self-control, then let it out once she thought

she had it.

Slowly Azhure lowered her hands away from her ears, and the ice woman’s hands on her shoulders

tightened briefly in encouragement.

“Soon,” said the ice woman’s sister from below SpikeFeather. “Very soon.”

Pray to all the stars that it is the truth, Azhure thought, for I cannot stand much more of this.

They continued to descend for an hour, perhaps two — time had no meaning in this narrow ice

tunnel — and then Azhure heard SpikeFeather exclaim as he jumped down three or four steps.

“We’re here!” he cried, and Azhure had to blink the tears out of her eyes.

She stepped onto an ice floor that was, unbelievably, smooth but not slippery. Above her the roof of

the ice tunnel had soared into a beautiful opaque dome of pink ice, while before her the floor extended

towards a waterway that wound through the ice cave from one wall to the other.

A brass tripod with a bell stood to one side.

SpikeFeather had a huge grin stretching from one ear to the other, and Azhure couldn’t help the

feeling that he felt as if he’d come home after too long away. She leaned forward and took Katie from

him — the girl murmured sleepily as SpikeFeather transferred her into Azhure’s arms, but otherwise did

not stir — and the birdman turned to the two ice women standing before him.

“Thank you,” he said, simply enough, but with such emotion that Azhure was stunned to see tears

well in both the sisters’ eyes.

“We long to see this Underworld of yours,” said one of the sisters, “for we are weary of the hills and

dales and turmoils of the Overworld.”

“Don’t you miss Faraday?” Azhure said, curious about what these women felt for the woman. After

all, they’d spent a long time travelling as Faraday’s devoted companions.

“Faraday was kind to us,” said one of the sisters, “and she had a purpose which we were happy to

aid her with. But…”

“But there are very few people we would wish to spend a forever with,” the other finished. “Very