Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

The Star Stallion screamed and shook head and tail. Millions of tiny stars exploded into the dense

blackness that surrounded them, and as they struck home, the creatures drew back, snapping and

snarling, or screaming and writhing if one of the stars burned its way through flesh.

A way opened before horse and rider, and the Star Stallion needed no encouragement. He plunged

forward, breasting his way through the dark creatures as a swimmer through the surf, lunging

with teeth, the thousands of stars sizzling about his head and haunches catching and reflecting the mirror

blade of the lily sword as it arced through the air again and again.

They rode through a nightmare.

The stars and sword created a path, but that did nothing to alleviate the fetid savagery about them.

Hands and claws and gaping jaws reached incessantly for them, teeth snapped a finger’s breadth away

from flesh, foulness filled the air. Horse and rider both found it difficult to breathe.

But though DragonStar responded to the threat, and though he swung the lily sword this way and

that, he barely saw the horror about him.

His mind had let go the images of past battles and the memories of countless, extinct races.

Now all DragonStar thought about was Faraday.

Faraday, caught in the arms of Qeteb.

Faraday, undergoing again the same horror she had at Gorgrael’s touch.

Beautiful, courageous Faraday, no doubt intent on sacrificing herself again, if only it might save one

person beyond herself.

DragonStar reviled himself for making her go through all this again, but it was necessary. Necessary

for him to be able to make the right decision when Qeteb presented him with the choice.

Belaguez continued his lunge forward, and DragonStar arced down again and again with his sword.

Poor Faraday. He deserved her hate.

Faraday writhed in Qeteb’s grip, overcome with the hopelessness of her situation, and railing at

herself because she could do nothing to aid Katie.

The Midday Demon stood before the black marble tomb, facing the door of the mausoleum. He was

attired in his black armour, black plate wings held out behind him.

He was invulnerable, impenetrable, unconquerable.

Qeteb had won, and he knew it.

He stood completely still, at odds with the two writhing figures he held out to either side of

him.

His left hand was buried in the glossy brown curls of Katie, and she wept and cried softly, sickened

by the closeness of the Demon, and by the hopelessness of the wasteland which, in this tomb, was

magnified tenfold.

Qeteb’s right hand dug into the vulnerable white flesh of Faraday’s upper left arm.

Her white gown was torn and bloodied — all that held it to her body was the rainbow band about

her waist — and Faraday was heavily bruised on her face and legs.

Faraday’s fear, that she would be taken and offered again as sacrifice, had materialised into a

horrible reality. DragonStar was riding through the Maze towards the Dark Tower — she could feel him

with every beat of her heart. But Faraday could also feel his determination and his resolve, and she knew

that nothing would stand in the way of his ultimate purpose, and that purpose was, as it had been for

Axis, Tencendor. The salvation of the land before all else.

After all, hadn’t every other part of her nightmare with Gorgrael been revisited? This

would, too.

Faraday writhed and wept, and succumbed to hopelessness.

The StarSon rode, and he drew close to the Dark Tower.

As he did so, the black tide of maniacal creatures drew back, and let him be.

The final bite must be Qeteb’s.

Belaguez snorted a last time, and shook his head so that stars littered the path leading to the Dark

Tower.

There was a faint tinkle of music as the stallion trod carefully into the paved area before the Dark

Tower.

DragonStar looked up. The tower rose bleak and silent, although DragonStar could feel it throbbing

with purpose.

The Choice lay within.

DragonStar lowered his eyes.

Three hounds sat before the entrance. They were motley and diseased, and contagion dripped from

their jaws.

Sheol, Mot and Barzula.

A slight movement to one side caught DragonStar’s eye, and he glanced … and nodded.

The shadow inclined its head, ever at service. His choice had been well made.

DragonStar looked back to the Tower, and slid down from Belaguez’s back. “Wait,” he said.

He walked towards the three demonic hounds, graceful, lithe, apparently confident.

“Step aside,” DragonStar said as he approached them, “for my battle lies with your master, not you.”

The hounds snarled, but they slunk to one side, and DragonStar looked beyond them.

The door gaped wide and black.

Faraday saw the shadow step into the door, and she sobbed. How had it all come to this? Why? Why?

DragonStar, as his father before him, barely glanced at Faraday’s suffering, although it

affected him as deeply as it had Axis.

His concentration was all on Qeteb.

“And so it has come to this,” DragonStar said softly.

“And so it has come to this,” Qeteb agreed. His voice was cold and harsh, as if he was consumed

by such anger he could barely elucidate the words.

“I have no time for games, or sweet musings over past memories,” Qeteb continued. “And so, as is

my right, I offer you the final choice. Do you choose Katie, and so save Tencendor? Or do you choose

from your heart, and sacrifice Tencendor for Faraday?”

“No! No! No/” Faraday screamed, writhing pitifully in Qeteb’s agonising grip.

“DragonStar, I beg you, choose Katie! Save Katie!”

“You would sacrifice yourself?” Qeteb said, and laughed. “Again? My, my, Faraday, isn’t your

obsession with self-sacrifice a trifle self-destructive?”

Faraday ignored him. DragonStar was looking at her now, and she held his eyes with all the love she

could muster. “Please, DragonStar, let me die. Take Katie, she is far, far more important. Her life is more

important —”

“Not to me,” DragonStar said softly.

Faraday wept, and cried out again. “No! I beg you, choose Katie! Please, please, DragonStar,

choose Katie! I want to die! Please, please, believe me. I WANT to die!”

“Ah,” Qeteb whispered, ignoring Faraday. “I can see the love on your face, DragonStar. Poor,

foolish, DragonStar, love will prove your downfall, as it proved Goldman and DareWing’s.”

DragonStar ignored him. He looked away from Faraday, weeping piteously, and stepped up to

Katie.

Qeteb made no move to stop him, or to touch him.

“Katie,” said DragonStar, and dropped down on one knee before her. “Know that I love you.”

She nodded, and turning her face slightly so Qeteb could not see, let DragonStar see the sheer relief

flood across it.

DragonStar rose, and stepped in front of Qeteb. “I love Faraday,” he said, “and she has suffered and

sacrificed enough. I choose Faraday.”

“No!” Faraday screamed. “No!”

“Faraday,” DragonStar said, “did I not once say to you that Tencendor does not need your sacrifice

again? Tencendor does not need you to die for it. I do not need you to die for Tencendor.”

Qeteb roared with laughter, and flung Faraday into DragonStar’s arms. “Fool!”

DragonStar seized Faraday, and dragged her, weeping and struggling, back a few paces. “Behold,

beloved,” he whispered into her ear, “how Tencendor will sacrifice itself for you.”

“No,” she murmured, worn out with her hopelessness and her despair. “No. Let me die.

There is nothing left. Not now … not now.”

“There is life and love left,” DragonStar said softly, “and no need for your death. All that Tencendor

requires of you is that you witness. It does not want your death! Instead, it offers up itself for you.”

He caught her face in his hand, and turned it back to Qeteb and Katie.

Qeteb was still roaring with laughter. Lost in his victory, he had not heard a word that

DragonStar had said to Faraday. He still held Katie by her hair in his left hand, and with his right he

produced a wickedly gleaming kitchen knife.

Faraday fought as hard as she could against DragonStar. What was he doing? Qeteb was

going to kill Katie! No! No! She screamed, shrill and despairing.

Qeteb dragged Katie in front of him, and jerked her head back.

The girl was calm, and she stared at Faraday with eyes of such love that Faraday could not

bear it.

“No,” she whispered, but she had lost the desire to struggle now. DragonStar was too strong for

her, and Qeteb too evil. Between them, they were going to kill Katie.

“For you, Faraday,” Katie whispered, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head back even further

as the blade flashed through the air.

Blood splattered everywhere.

Azhure sat despondently on the gravel of the GateKeeper’s island, one hand resting on her aching, but

now neatly bandaged, calf. SpikeFeather sat close by, his head resting in his hands. He had a headache,

but little else in the way of injuries. The ice sisters sat on either side of him, running their cool hands over