Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

fear. Her smile widened. Again and again. Morning, noon and night.

―And there is always your son, WolfStar!‖ Sheol cried merrily, clapping her hands. Her

sapphire eyes glowed very bright. ―Don‘t you think he lusts for revenge as well? When

cognisance finally fills your son‘s eyes, WolfStar, what revenge do you think he might like to visit on your body?‖

―My son no more,‖ WolfStar rasped. ―If ever he was.‖

StarLaughter‘s face tightened, and she jerked the chain tight.

WolfStar choked, and fell over, his hands tight about the collar.

StarLaughter smiled sweetly.

―The Lake,‖ Sheol said. ―We have what we need, and we have wasted enough time here.‖

―Hardly a waste,‖ StarLaughter murmured, and jerked again at WolfStar‘s chain. ―For I

find that I have enjoyed myself mightily.‖

60

Of Salvation

―What I did to Leagh,‖ Drago said, ―I can do for only a few more. There are potentially

twenty thousand out there running wild through the Western Ranges. It would kill me to bring them all back.‖

―But—‖ Theod said, his face tight.

―Three more,‖ Drago said, ―can I bring back as I did Leagh. Only three.‖

―You said that—‖ Theod started to shout.

―The others I can save,‖ Drago said, his own voice tenser now. He‘d realised over the

past two days what the effort to return Leagh back had caused him, and he knew he could never

repeat that twenty thousand times. Not all at once.

And knowing that broke his heart.

―I can save them,‖ he repeated, ―but only by moving them on.‖

―Moving them on?‖ Zared asked carefully. He, Leagh, Theod, Faraday, Katie and Herme

stood in one of the smaller chambers of the palace, a fire burning brightly and the drapes

half-drawn to keep the bitterness of early spring at bay.

―Through death—‖ Drago said, and before he could say any more Katie finished for him.

―Into the field of flowers,‖ she said.

Faraday and Leagh had told all present what they‘d seen during Drago‘s enchantment,

but even so Theod was slow to nod his head in understanding.

―Which three?‖ he asked.

Drago looked at Leagh and Faraday, then back to Theod. ―Gwendylyr will be the first.‖

Theod‘s face crumpled in relief. ―And then my two sons.‖

―No.‖

― No? ‖

―Theod,‖ Zared said quietly, but with clear warning. He stepped forward to a spot where

he could intervene between the two men if need be.

―Then who else?‖ Theod spat.

Drago hesitated. Gwendylyr had been an easy decision to reach. With Faraday and

Leagh, she would make the third in the triangle he‘d need against the Demons. Drago‘s three

witches.

―Jannymire Goldman,‖ he said.

Zared‘s face reflected his surprise, as did Theod‘s and Herme‘s.

―Goldman?‖ Herme said. He had kept very quiet until this point, reluctant to speak of

things among those he did not truly understand.

Drago nodded, but did not explain himself. He walked over to the fire, standing before it,

his hands clasped gently behind his back.

―And who is the third?‖ Zared asked.

―If suitable,‖ Drago said, speaking into the fire, ―I will also bring back DareWing

FullHeart.‖

―If suitable?‖ Theod asked, his hand jerking in a curt, impatient and utterly frustrated

gesture. ― If suitable? Pray, what do you mean by, ‗if suitable‘?‖

Drago turned about, looking at Faraday to answer. She was a little disconcerted. Since

their clash on the roof of the palace, Faraday had been unsure of Drago, or of her reactions to

him. They‘d passed some small time in company since then, but never alone, and they had

maintained a rigorous politeness that tore at Faraday‘s soul.

But what else could she do? Did she want to live, or did she want to love?

Drago raised his eyebrows, waiting, and Faraday forced her mind back to the issue at

hand. If DareWing was suitable? What did he mean? Then she remembered what Urbeth had told

them, and she realised what he meant.

―We went to Gorkenfort,‖ she said, ―and—‖

― What in curses names does Gorkenfort have to do with this? ‖ Theod yelled.

―Listen,‖ Zared cautioned. ―And let her speak.‖

―And while we were there we met with Urbeth,‖ Faraday continued, finally looking away

from Drago back to the others. ―You know of her?‖

All nodded. The story of Urbeth had been one of the more puzzling of those to emerge

from Axis‘ battle with Gorgrael.

―She talked to us of many things, among which she passed across the secret of the

Acharite bloodline.‖

Faraday‘s mouth twitched in secret amusement as she told them, if not the truth of the

father of the Acharite race, then of their potential for enchantment, but only once they‘d passed

through death.

Leagh gasped, and then a beautiful smile graced her face. ―No wonder I feel…‖ her voice

trailed off. ―No wonder I feel as I do,‖ she finished quietly, and Zared looked at her wonderingly.

―So why DareWing?‖ Theod asked, and all could hear the unspoken question in his

voice: if Acharites are so useful, why bring the Icarii DareWing back and not one of my sons?

―Theod,‖ Faraday said, and stepped forward so she could take his hands in hers. ―For

countless generations before the Wars of the Axe, Icarii men took lovers from among Acharite

women, believing their human blood would add vitality to the Icarii race. When these women

bore children, the Icarii carried the babes off to raise them as full-blood Icarii.‖

―Thus many Icarii carry Acharite heritage in their veins,‖ Drago said, ―although they may

not realise it. If DareWing is one of those, then he will be more than useful.‖

―But this Acharite blood must be thin indeed by now,‖ Zared said.

―Even the hint of its memory will be enough,‖ Drago replied.

―But my sons…‖ Theod said helplessly, and Faraday‘s heart almost broke. She

understood why Drago had chosen as he had, but the knowing could not lessen Theod‘s grief.

She could not look him in the eye, and dropped her face.

Katie pushed between Faraday and Theod, and took one of the man‘s hands.

―Sir Duke,‖ she said in a clear piping voice, shaking his hand so that he would look down

into her face. ―Trust in Drago. Your sons will be well.‖

Theod‘s face twisted, and he turned it away. ―My sons will die,‖ he said, his voice thick

with emotion, ―and I will mourn them all the days of my life.‖

Katie‘s hands tightened. ―You will be too busy laughing with them to mourn them,‖ she

said. ―Wait.‖

―We will go once dusk has passed,‖ Drago said, ―and the night is clean and peaceful.‖

The afternoon was spent either resting or pacing, depending on the temperament of each

who waited. Zared sat a long hour at Leagh‘s bedside, watching her rest, until he could stand it

no longer and got to his feet and wandered about the room, straightening that which did not need

to be straightened, and neatening the already neat.

He did not like it that Leagh should go with them, however magically easy the journey

that Drago might procure for them. She was still emaciated and physically drained from her

ordeal, and her fatigue was doubled by the fact that her body sent what little vitality it had to

spare into the baby she harboured.

And Zared did not want her to face any risk. He had lost Isabeau through his lack of

foresight—through lack of good sense, dammit! —and he‘d all but lost Leagh the same way, and

the gods must be crazy if they thought he might be prepared to risk Leagh again.

But he had little choice, did he? Drago was insistent that Leagh come with them.

Ah! The tension and worry was almost too much, and Zared determined to find Drago

and insist that Leagh stay in Carlon. What could she do? Faraday would be there for whatever

magical assistance Drago might need.

Checking to make sure Leagh still slept peacefully, Zared slipped quietly from the room

and went to find Drago.

He found him, eventually, on the parapets. It was late afternoon, the dusk only an hour

away but still currently safe enough to step into the open.

Drago stood at the far north-eastern parapet, resting his chin on his folded arms on the

chest-high stone, staring out at the mass of animals that crowded against the walls. He had his

copper hair neatly tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, and was wearing light-coloured breeches,

calf-high close-fitting leather boots and a white linen shirt. He had his staff with him, but the

sack was nowhere to be seen. Zared thought Drago looked far more elegant than he‘d seen him

in a long time…and more like Axis than Zared felt either Drago or his father would care to

admit.

―Some sword practice, nephew?‖ Zared asked as he walked quietly up behind Drago, and

was rewarded as Drago jumped.

Zared grinned. ―Your new-found enchantments have not deepened your hearing, then?‖