Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

originally did.”

“Maybe,” Axis said, “and maybe not.”

Chapter 7

A Wander Through, and Into,

Sanctuary

Faraday, Zenith and StarDrifter were wandering slowly along one of the paths Sanctuary had provided

for the comfort, pleasure and exercise of all who sheltered within its confines. It was, StarDrifter thought

— and with a distinct, but not entirely successful, effort to avoid couching the thought in unpleasant

overtones — just like it was on the Island of Mist and Memory. Me, Zenith … and Faraday’s constant

presence between us. Even her physical presence, for Faraday literally separated Zenith and StarDrifter

as they walked abreast down the wide path.

Not even Sanctuary works in my favour, StarDrifter thought, for if the path were just the slightest bit

narrower, then mayhap Faraday would have to walk behind Zenith and myself, and I could have the

contentment of the odd fleeting touch as my elbow brushed the fabric of Zenith’s lavender gown.

And mayhap not, for StarDrifter was sure if the path were narrow, he would be the one left to

wander lost behind whilst Faraday and Zenith linked arms — as they had now — and chatted

happily without him.

Aye, he thought, this is just like the Island of Mist and Memory, for Zenith feels more

comfortable with me when someone else is present. It is as if she only feels at ease relating to me

through someone else.

She only laughs freely when there is someone else present to protect the space between her and I.

She only smiles at me when someone else is there to act as a filter for her joy.

She only tilts eyes of love in my direction when there is someone else her glance can bounce off first.

StarDrifter was not feeling happy about the situation at all, but there was nothing he could, or

wanted, to do. Zenith had to take her own time in learning to accept her love for him, or there would be

no future time for the two of them at all.

The shared strolls through Sanctuary’s soft daytime were bad, but there was nothing as bad as the

long velvet nights adrift in his lonely bed knowing that Zenith had been born to share it, but knowing also

she refused to do so … because …

… because she found his touch repulsive! StarDrifter shivered in utter panic. How could he ever shift

from grandfather to lover in her mind?

“StarDrifter?” Zenith said, and StarDrifter jumped.

“Hmmm?”

“Look, we approach Sanctuary’s answer to the Avarinheim. I wonder which Avar Clan we will

encounter first? The JeppelSand Clan were here yesterday …”

StarDrifter truly didn’t care, but he tried his best to summon an outward semblance of interest. They

were within a hundred paces of a dark forest, and yet StarDrifter knew that on entering that forested

darkness, they would find only space and light and music, just like the original Avarinheim.

And no doubt some Clan that both Faraday and Zenith would insist on sitting down with and sharing

some in-depth conversation about the preparation of malfari bread, or some such.

Women! Didn’t they understand that there were other pleasures to pursue?

But now Faraday was pulling back a little.

“I don’t know,” she said, and both StarDrifter and Zenith halted and regarded her.

“Faraday,” Zenith said, and reached out her hand to hold one of Faraday’s. “Isfrael is generally deep

within the forest, and even if he isn’t, he is hardly likely to linger about and disturb our morning.”

Faraday did not answer, staring at the forest and chewing her lip. She loved chatting to the Avar,

and they just as obviously enjoyed her visits, but the occasional meeting with Isfrael, even the glimmer of

his hostile eyes behind the shadowy overhang of a branch, tended to send chills trampling up and down

her spine.

“Perhaps you and StarDrifter should go on,” she said, and StarDrifter’s entire countenance

brightened.

“Perhaps that’s best!” he said, and took Zenith’s hand to lead her away. “Zenith, Faraday obviously

doesn’t want to —”

“Faraday! Zenith! StarDrifter!”

They all turned and looked back down the path.

Azhure was walking quickly — and yet with such lithe grace that StarDrifter’s breath caught slightly

in his throat — towards them.

She smiled with exquisite loveliness as she reached them, and now StarDrifter’s breath caught

completely, not so much for Azhure’s beauty, as alluring as it was, but for the resemblance to Zenith’s

smile on her face.

“Faraday,” Azhure said softly. “Drago… DragonStar has returned.”

Faraday’s face paled completely, and her green eyes widened. She let go of Zenith’s hand, and

looked past Azhure towards the distant palace complex. An expression akin to panic flooded her face.

“Go to him,” Azhure said softly. “Axis and I have talked to him, and now, perchance it is your time.”

Faraday’s eyes focused back on Azhure. “You talked …?”

“Faraday, go to him.”

Faraday looked once more at the distant palace. She and Azhure had talked at length in the days

that Drago (why did Azhure call him DragonStar?) had remained above in Tencendor. At first, Faraday

had wanted to talk Azhure into accepting her son back into her love, but had found it not necessary.

Azhure had been won over the instant Drago had looked at her with unhindered love in that dank

basement chamber in Star Finger. Instead, Faraday had found herself being lectured by Azhure on

accepting her own love for Drago.

She and the Mother must somehow be in cohorts, Faraday had thought at the time.

But she had listened to Azhure, nevertheless, as she had listened to the Mother.

“I must get Katie,” Faraday said. “She’s with Leagh and Gwendylyr in —”

“No,” Azhure said. “Katie can wait.”

“I —”

“Go,” Azhure said, and took Faraday’s hand and pulled her very slightly down the path. “Go.”

Faraday nodded, and went.

Isfrael watched his mother walk down the path with cold eyes, and even colder thoughts.

The Avar tolerated — nay, welcomed — his presence among them, but Isfrael was ever aware that

they regarded him as one of them, not as one above them.

That place they now reserved for Faraday. Their Tree Friend was once more among them. She

had returned in the hour of direst danger, and led them to safety.

Better his mother had stayed in legend, Isfrael thought, as he had thought a thousand times since he’d

entered this pitiful underground dungeon they called “Sanctuary”.

Better … better if she returned to legend.

Aye, far better.

Isfrael turned his back and walked into darkness.

Faraday smoothed the white linen of her gown nervously, tweaking out a fold that had become

caught under the Mother’s rainbow sash still wound about her waist.

For a moment she rested her hand on the faint outline of the twisted arrow and sapling that rested in

the folds of the sash.

Then she raised her eyes and looked at the closed door before her. Here Azhure said Drago was

waiting.

Here, the chamber he had taken as his own. Right next door to Axis and Azhure’s chamber, which

Faraday could not help wonder was a deliberate action on his part.

Choose between us, Faraday. My father, or me.

Which door, Faraday?

There was nothing in Faraday’s mind of Demons, or how to restore Tencendor to its glory, or even

of Katie. All Faraday could think of was what she should say to this man.

How she could gracefully tell him that, after all her hesitation, all her fright and denial, all her

determination not to lay open her body and soul to the betrayal it had suffered with Axis and Gorgrael,

she was prepared to do it all over again if it meant loving, and being loved.

The Mother had been right. Her life would be nothing if she refused to dare to love.

Faraday glanced at Axis’ door several paces away.

There was no question of the choice, and maybe Drago knew that, but it would have amused him to

have presented her with the mirage of alternatives.

No, Faraday’s major problem now was how to back down with her pride intact from the position

she’d dug herself into.

Having denied the man, and her love for him, for months, how could she now turn around and say

she’d been wrong?

What superior smile would wrap his face? What triumph?

“None, Faraday,” said a soft voice behind her, and she whipped about.

Drago … no! DragonStar (and now she could see why Azhure had used that name) was leaning

against the wall several paces behind her.

Faraday’s entire existence stilled, save for the painful thudding of her heart.

And save for the painful sensation of her desire crawling out of the very pit of her soul, through her

stomach and up her throat to offer itself to this man.

Tears filled her eyes. He was glorious. Somehow, somewhere, in the week or more since she’d last