fought in the pass. The tens of thousands of Gorgrael‘s Ice Worms and Skraelings, the Gryphon
lurking among the rocks, and all defeated by Azhure and the trees of the great forests to the east.
It had brought a pause, nothing else.
Axis sighed, and stirred the fire. ―It will be a long journey south, Caelum. How can we
reach Carlon in time?‖
―If we merely walk south, then we never will,‖ Caelum said. ―So we will continue west
towards Seal Bay. Surely there must still be a sealer or two waiting out the winter there. We can
voyage south on the Andeis in one of their whalers. They are well equipped to withstand the
fiercest storms.‖
Axis shared a glance with Azhure, and frowned slightly when she dropped her eyes from
his.
―The sealers rarely linger on the coast at this time of year, Caelum,‖ he said, looking back
to his son. ―They see out the winter on Straum Island and do not come back until late spring.‖
―Then we can light a beacon fire,‖ Caelum said, unperturbed by his father‘s pessimism.
―One or two will surely sail across the bay to sate their curiosity.‖
―Surely it would be best to turn south and seize what horses we can find running loose in
Ichtar—‖
―No,‖ Caelum said. ―We will go to Seal Bay.‖
And with that he rolled himself up in his blanket and said no more.
Axis looked again at Azhure. She was curiously silent, and avoided his eyes. He shifted
around the fire towards her, and smoothed the glossy black hair away from the face he loved so
much.
―What have I said to annoy you?‖
She shook her head slightly. ―Nothing.‖
Axis‘ mouth quirked. ―You forget how well I know you. Something is bothering
you…frightening you.‖
She finally lifted her dark blue eyes and regarded him directly. ―And nothing is bothering
you?‖
He hesitated. ―Azhure, I had never thought to utter this, but I fear I might be growing too
old for adventure. I hope,‖ his eyes flickered across the fire to where Caelum lay rolled up in
shadow, ―I hope my son can fully take his place as the hope of this land.‖
―I am sure our son will do so,‖ Azhure said, and suddenly hope suffused her, leaving her
wide-eyed. Was that all it took, she thought? Belief in him? Was that all it took?
―Azhure?‖ Axis murmured.
She smiled. ―Nothing. For now. No more words. Not now.‖
He smiled, moving his arm to encircle her shoulders, and he lowered his face to hers.
There were some things Axis did not think he would ever grow too old for.
In the morning, they stepped down into Gorken Pass and met what, perhaps, Caelum had
all along suspected they might.
Urbeth sat in the snow, hind legs splayed before her for balance, leaning back on one
forepaw and cleaning the tufts of fur between the black pads of the other.
Her black eyes flickered at them as they stopped at the sight of her, then she waved them
over. Behind her was a great barrel of what appeared to be fresh fish.
―It has been a long time, Axis, lost God of Song, and Azhure, lost Goddess of the Moon.‖
She dipped her head at Caelum, but did not speak to him.
―And a fair morning to you, Urbeth, strange bear of the north,‖ Axis said, a hard edge to
his voice. ―Have the TimeKeeper Demons driven you out of your den in the ice-pack?‖
―My cubs have all grown and now seek their own way in the world,‖ Urbeth said. ―I have
nothing to interest me in the ice any more.‖
Azhure glanced up the Gorken Pass. ―How do the Ravensbund fare, Urbeth? Have you
seen them?‖
Urbeth heaved a melodramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. ―When the Demons struck I had
every expectation they would appear at the edge of the ice-pack once more,‖ she said, referring
to the time when Gorgrael‘s Skraelings had driven the Ravensbundmen onto the ice where
Urbeth had been forced to protect them by changing them into trees. ―But for once they found their own methods of dealing with the bad hours,‖ she continued. ―They hide in their holes, and
chafe at the fact they can no longer ride the ice-pack in search of seal.‖
―Ah,‖ Azhure said. ―The holes.‖ The Ravensbund chief, Ho‘Demi, had once shown her
and Axis the holes: gigantic subsidences in the earth that sheltered warm springs, game and
shelter.
―What do you here, Urbeth?‖ Caelum finally asked.
―Well,‖ Urbeth said slowly, and stood up, shaking herself so rigorously the other three
had to stand back. ―It came to my attention that your good self, as your parents, seemed to be
intent on getting to Carlon. And yet, pitiful creatures that you be without your powers, I thought
to myself, how do they expect to manage it?‖
―What do you propose?‖ Axis snapped.
Azhure laid a hand on his arm, smiling apologetically at Urbeth.
Urbeth shrugged in her own ursine way, and did not seem perturbed. Indeed, she seemed
mildly amused.
―Axis, Azhure, the time has come to say goodbye to your son.‖
―No!‖ Azhure sounded terrified, and Axis took her arm, surprised at her emotion, even
though he, too, was angry with the bear.
―We will go south with him,‖ he said.
Urbeth shook her head, and although she kept her voice pleasant, her eyes were hard.
―This Caelum needs to do on his own. Let him go.‖
Caelum turned to his parents. ―She is right. I do need to do this on my own.‖
―Caelum—‖ Azhure said, her voice breaking, and held out a trembling hand.
Caelum ignored the hand and enveloped her in a huge hug. ―Thank you,‖ he whispered.
―For everything. For my life, and for your love and belief in me.‖
She clung desperately to him, weeping inconsolably, and Caelum had to lean back and
push her slightly away so he could look into her eyes.
―Let me go, Azhure,‖ he whispered. ―It is time.‖
Azhure didn‘t know what to do, what to say. What could she say? And how could she
just let him go and turn away? How could she?
―Azhure,‖ Urbeth said. ―Let him go.‖
Azhure wrenched herself out of Caelum‘s hands and stumbled a few paces away.
Axis stared at her, distraught by her emotion but not understanding its full depth, then
embraced Caelum himself. ―Stars go with you,‖ he whispered, then stood back.
Caelum reached out and touched his father‘s face one last time, wishing that he could
have been the son Axis had wanted.
―Remember what you promised, Father.‖
Axis nodded. ―But Drago will not need it.‖
Caelum let that go. He half-smiled, lifted his hand again as if he wanted to touch his
father just one more time, then let it drop. Axis nodded at him, then took Azhure gently by the
hand.
―Come, my love,‖ he murmured. ―Come home with me.‖
The last Caelum saw of his parents were their backs disappearing into the wind and snow.
―Well?‖ he asked of Urbeth, ―what now?‖
―Now? Why, we sit by the fire and wait.‖
Caelum narrowed his eyes. ―What fire? Wait for what?‖
― This fire,‖ and suddenly there was a fire burning several paces distant. ―And we wait for
Drago. He will let us know when the time is right.‖
Caelum hesitated, then he shrugged and walked over to the fire. ―I am sure we will have
much to discuss while we wait,‖ he said.
―That we will,‖ Urbeth said. ―That we will.‖
She paused. ―Would you like a fish?‖
58
The Deep Blue Cloak of Betrayal
Faraday left Leagh, put Katie to bed, and wandered the corridors of the palace. It was a
strange night, and a strange walk, and Faraday found herself in the clutches of some strange
sensation—not of the Demons‘ doing, but of Fate‘s. She wandered the corridors, plunging from
the extreme of hope and love to the nadir of despair and bitterness as she felt Fate‘s cold hand
close about her. She loved Drago, but felt trapped by that love, and felt she would be lost if she
ever admitted her love to Drago, let alone gave herself to him.
And, oh Gods, how she wanted to give herself to him, to tell him she loved him! Yet, if
she did that, she would die. Faraday understood that very completely now…she‘d understood it
the moment she‘d walked into this long abandoned chamber.
Very many things had become clear to her as she‘d wandered into this chamber.
It was empty, save for a great wardrobe that stood against a far wall. The wardrobe stared
at her, screaming at her to come closer, and fling open its doors.
It had a gift for her.
Faraday stared, then helplessly drifted over and flung open the doors. The wardrobe
contained a deep blue cloak and nothing else. The deep blue cloak she‘d worn when she‘d gone