As they rode, each of the Demons‘ eyes drifted to the boy riding beside StarLaughter.
Her get would provide the flesh and blood for their reborn saviour, but not the reborn son she
craved. StarLaughter somehow believed—foolish birdwoman—that it was her son DragonStar
who would be reborn with the power of Qeteb…but the Demons knew a little differently.
There was no DragonStar SunSoar, son of StarLaughter and WolfStar. There was only
ever a scrap of flesh that was suitable to be preserved until the time was ripe for it to be suffused
with the life parts so horribly stolen by the Enemy. What StarLaughter had given birth to in the
extremity of her murderous plunge through the Star Gate had been a mangled, dead clump of
bloody flesh. Nothing else.
StarLaughter had clung to that scrap as she drifted through the stars, her madness and
desire for revenge giving it form and life where there had been none.
None…until she‘d come to the attention of the Demons. Not only was StarLaughter, as
all the children who cried out for revenge with her, a link to the land the Demons needed to get
to, she‘d had the lump of lifeless and malleable flesh the Demons needed.
A house for Qeteb.
And so they‘d given it back some form for the poor woman to cuddle, and so she had
clutched it to her breast for four thousand useless years.
StarLaughter was completely, utterly, mad, and the Demons were not quite sure what to
do with her once Qeteb was risen and the need for such tools negated. The Hawkchilds could still
be useful—but StarLaughter?
Qeteb could decide, the Demons mutually, and silently, agreed. If he wanted he could eat
her, if he wanted he could fuck her. They truly didn‘t care.
Of Drago they thought occasionally, but they did not waste any worry on him. He should
not have survived the leap through the Star Gate, but he had. They should have killed him when
they had the chance, but he‘d done nothing with his unexpected life—no doubt he was now
secreted in some cave dribbling resentment—and could be disposed of later, like StarLaughter,
as Qeteb saw fit.
As everything would eventually be disposed of as Qeteb worked out his purpose.
For her part, StarLaughter was just as content as the Demons were. She knew the
Demons regarded her son from time to time as they rode, and she knew that sometimes their
unreadable eyes were cast in her direction. But that only made StarLaughter happy. She did not
trust them, and in time her son would dispose of them as he saw fit.
StarLaughter was very, very sure of that.
Now, she stopped.
―He is here, close!‖ she hissed.
They had halted their black creatures—no longer even vaguely resembling horses, but
rather immense black worms with stumpy legs—a few hundred paces from the western rim of
Fernbrake crater.
―What?‖ Sheol said vaguely. She, and the Demons, were concentrating on the still-hidden
Lake. There was something there…not quite right.
―WolfStar!‖ StarLaughter said, and half-turned her creature so that it faced south. ―So
close!‖ StarLaughter clenched a fist and struck her own breast. ―I feel him. Here! ‖
Sheol looked at her fellow Demons. WolfStar? And with him… her?
That other lump of flesh could be more useful than they‘d originally planned now that
Rox was no more.
―Where?‖ Sheol said, far more interested now.
StarLaughter pointed. ―Through there.‖
Through the forest. The Demons vacillated.
―Not far,‖ StarLaughter said. ―But a few minutes walk.‖ She paused. ―Might that be too
much for you?‖
―We can afford a few minutes,‖ Sheol said evenly, although she longed to tear
StarLaughter to shreds. ―Will you lead the way?‖
They abandoned their creatures, leaving them to snout through the dirt for insects, and
walked down the path StarLaughter indicated. The trees closed in about them, and whispers and
eyes followed their steps.
Sheol‘s lips, as those of her fellows, curled in a silent snarl, and the trees retreated
slightly.
StarLaughter slowed, and she raised a hand to caution the Demons. Then she lowered it
and pointed into a small glade ahead. Here.
The Demons nodded, and crowded at her shoulder to see for themselves.
An enchantment! Mot cried through their minds. He has been gaoled beneath an
enchantment!
Before them WolfStar sat rigid, his back to them, beneath a glowing emerald dome.
Several guards, Avar men, were spaced about the glade. They did not realise the presence lurking
just beyond the first shadows of the bushes.
Do you recognise the enchantment? Sheol asked in StarLaughter‘s mind.
It is of the trees and earth, StarLaughter replied. Easily broken by such as you.
Sheol again resisted the urge to reach out and slice the birdwoman to shreds—by the
darkness itself, she had almost outlived her usefulness!—and looked more carefully about the
clearing.
I cannot see her, she said.
Who? StarLaughter asked.
There was an instant‘s pause as all four Demons resisted the overwhelming urge to flay
her, then…
The girl-child he had with him, Sheol said.
Ah, StarLaughter thought, the one he betrayed me for. Well, no doubt I can wreak my
revenge on her as well. WolfStar must know where she is.
The Demons silently agreed.
We will remove the enchantment, Mot said, and those who guard him.
First…the men. Sheol opened her mouth, and her teeth lengthened and curved.
Her eyes glittered, and then changed, becoming dark fluid that roiled about in their orbits.
Her skin paled to a desperate whiteness.
The three Avar men, standing about the emerald dome, lifted their heads and stared
towards the shrubbery where Sheol stood.
Their eyes were stricken…despairing.
WolfStar slowly raised his head and stared at the man nearest him. His back stiffened,
and he turned his head very, very slightly, but otherwise made no reaction.
The Avar men were not armed, loathing any kind of weapon, but Sheol nevertheless had
her way with them. One dug his fingers into his eyes, wriggling them in as far as he could go
until he dropped dead to the ground.
Even then his fingers continued to worm.
Another took a great stone from the ground and beat himself over the skull with it.
When he, too, dropped dead to the ground, his hand continued to lift the rock and smash
it against his skull until the crackle of wet bone gave way to the dull thud of pounded meal.
The third merely tore a wrist-thick branch from a sturdy bush and impaled himself on it.
His body heaved up and down on the blood-soaked stick in a parody of love long after he had
ceased to breathe.
WolfStar‘s head moved very slightly, enough so he could see all three Avar men from the
corner of his eyes, but he otherwise still did not move.
He certainly did not look behind him.
Now the enchantment. Barzula waved a hand towards the glade, and a wind of immense
power, and yet curiously without movement, lifted the emerald dome from WolfStar and
smashed it against two nearby trees until it lay in useless shards amid the exposed roots.
WolfStar finally rose. He fastidiously dusted himself down, rearranged the feathers of
one wing, and pulled one boot more comfortably along the close fit of his calf. His nonchalant
behaviour concealed horrified thoughts. The Demons! Here! WolfStar cursed his stupidity. He
had allowed himself to be captured by Drago and held until the Demons had arrived.
What would happen if Niah fell into the Demons‘ control? What would they do to her?
What would they do with her?
Giving his breeches a final dust down, WolfStar slowly turned around.
If StarLaughter had expected him to show fear, she was disappointed. Even without
power, WolfStar looked every bit as haughty, and every bit as malignant, as the day he‘d hurled
StarLaughter through the Star Gate.
―I would imagine,‖ he said to the bushes before him, ―that after four thousand years,
StarLaughter, you have thought of the perfect curse to assail me with. Why so silent?‖
She stepped forth, and her appearance—the bloodied and rent gown, the wild
eyes—finally caused WolfStar to raise an eyebrow. For her part, StarLaughter could do little but
stare at him. For so long she had hungered for this moment, for so long she had—
―At least you have managed to come back through the Star Gate,‖ WolfStar said, ―even if
you have taken your sweet time about it. Have you brought me power, then, as I requested?‖
Hate rippled across StarLaughter‘s face, and her hands jerked into fists. ― I have power,
WolfStar, and you have none. How does that feel? How does it feel, Talon-of-naught, to know
you have no more sorcery than the smallest of worms?‖
―Whatever I have done,‖ WolfStar said quietly, his eyes not leaving her face, ―I will go to
my grave knowing I did not destroy this beloved land in order to—‖
―But you were prepared to kill innocent children, weren‘t you, to gain power!‖