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Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

―Take her.‖

The Qeteb-man seized the woman, his all-encompassing hands groping and kneading her

unresisting flesh as he pushed her to the ground. The Qeteb-man dropped his weight upon her,

forcing her to his requirements without any thought to the damage he might thereby do to her

body. Coldly, his vacant eyes fixed on some distant point, the Qeteb-man drove himself roughly

inside the Niah-woman and began to grunt and thrust, and each grunt and thrust ate into

WolfStar‘s soul, tore into his being, and he lowered his head and wept as Niah lay on her bed of

thorns, her hips and breasts jerking and jiggling with every movement of the Demon‘s frantically

plunging body.

There, in that desiccated rose garden, Qeteb took his bride as WolfStar raved, StarDrifter

and Isfrael watched in morbid fascination, and the Goodwife Renkin, still atop the ridge, climbed

to her feet, her face hard, and descended into the forest below.

62

A Song of Innocence

Deep in the earth beneath Carlon, a writhing, twisting mass of voles, rats, and sundry

burrowing insects and rodents continued to scrape their way through the earth. Among them

moved the patchy-bald rat, biting and nipping, driving them on, on, on, for the day was coming,

the day when the Lord would rise, and preparations must be made and souls must be in place for

that moment.

The Day of Resurrection.

Above, the night was deep and moonless.

Drago stood at the open doorway by which he had entered Carlon, his sack tied securely

to his belt. Drago had begun to think of it as his weapons sack; his father may have once slung

axe and sword from his belt, now his reviled youngest son slung a hessian bag.

The Wolven was slung over Drago‘s left shoulder, the quiver of arrows hung down his

back. In his right hand Drago held his staff, and in the other he held Katie.

By his feet crouched the feathered lizard. Its growth had stopped, and it had now

stabilised into a form slightly larger than a mastiff hound, but still retaining the shape of a lizard.

Behind Drago came Faraday, wrapped in a bright scarlet cloak that she had hunted all

afternoon for in the wardrobes of the palace, and with two blankets under her arm; Leagh,

equally wrapped in a thick and warm black cloak and also with a blanket; Zared, his worried

eyes rarely leaving his wife; and finally, Theod clad in light chain mail under his cloak and with

his sword already drawn in his hand.

He‘d heard of the eels that had attacked Drago‘s boat on the way over from Spiredore.

The gods alone knew what else the Demons might launch at them. Theod did not want anything

stopping him from reaching Gwendylyr this night.

He concentrated all his thoughts on her, and pushed the memory of their two sons to the

dim recesses of his mind. They were gone, sacrificed to Drago‘s unexplained plans, and Theod

would not allow himself to dwell on them any more.

―Well?‖ an anxious voice asked from far back in the dark passageway.

―The boat is still here, Herme,‖ Drago replied, and he stepped carefully down, wishing

that if he‘d retained only one thing from his Icarii heritage it could have been their exquisite

grace and balance.

The feathered lizard leapt in, causing the boat to rock violently, and Drago planted his

staff firmly down and leaned on it, silently cursing the lizard with every gutter and kitchen oath

he‘d ever known.

Once the boat had settled, he laid the staff in the belly of the boat, lifted Katie in and saw

her safely seated, helped Faraday and then Leagh into the boat, and seated himself, leaving Zared

and Theod to manage as best they could.

Herme appeared in the dark hole of the doorway. ―Be careful,‖ he said. ―And return

quickly.‖

―Keep safe,‖ Drago said, then briefly smiled, nodded, and leaned his weight into the oars,

sliding the boat silently out onto the waters of Grail Lake.

Faraday drew the cloak yet tighter about her and shivered. Animals of all shapes, sizes

and breed lined the shoreline about the city‘s walls. Men and women, as naked and vile as Leagh

had been, crept back and forth, snatching at themselves or at whoever came close. All the

demented were relatively silent, whether because of the night or some unknown plan, Faraday

did not know, but they shuffled and moved in undulating waves, constantly pushing against the

walls.

Pray we get back in time, Drago thought. He‘d felt the increase in the power of the

Demons, and knew they‘d been successful at Fernbrake Lake.

How long would it take them to get to Grail Lake? Over a week, but less than two.

Not long. Not long.

Drago pulled harder on the oars.

The gigantic eels humped their bodies out of the water as the boat moved across the

Lake, but they did not attack. Perhaps they could see the feathered lizard sitting sentinel in the

bow of the boat, or perhaps their attention was focused on something within the Lake, for they rarely lifted their heads to watch the boat‘s progress.

―There is something different about the Lake,‖ Faraday said, and Leagh nodded.

―I feel it, too. There is a…a thickness…here which I do not understand.‖

Faraday trailed a hand through the water. ―A thickness…‖ she repeated, and then wiped

her hand on her cloak with an expression of distaste.

Drago watched both women, sitting directly opposite him, with careful eyes. Leagh,

while cautious about the danger surrounding them and their mission this night, was nevertheless

serene and calm. She had come through death and found nothing but peace.

Faraday, on the other hand, was as jumpy as a cat. Drago remembered how sure she‘d

seemed when first he‘d come back through the Star Gate. Gradually that confidence had

dissipated.

It was him, Drago knew that. They‘d fallen unwanted into love, and he thought that

neither of them would find much happiness in it. Faraday did not want love, it had betrayed her

too much already. And he? For weeks Drago had thought all he wanted was Faraday and her

love, but after their conversation on the parapets, he now knew that even if she did come to him, would it be to him that she came, or the resemblance in movement and expression to his father?

Would she ever get over her love for Axis? She said she had, but Drago did not believe

her. It continued to cripple her life, and Axis, utterly unintentionally, had returned to cripple

Drago‘s as well. How pleased Axis would be, Drago thought, if only he knew.

Drago watched Faraday‘s eyes skim over the water, and remembered the passion in those

eyes as she‘d spoken of Axis and the nights they‘d spent in love.

Would she ever look thus when she spoke of him?

He grimaced, and dropped his face, and bent back to the oars.

They reached the far shore without incident, and the moment the boat scraped against the

gravel bottom of the Lake, all knew what was different about it.

The level of the Lake had dropped considerably, possibly by about the height of a man.

Now they had several paces of dry lake bed to walk across to reach what had once been the

shoreline and the now-waterless pier by Spiredore.

―But,‖ Faraday said, turning about on the exposed lake bed in consternation, ―how can

this be? When we arrived here several days ago the water level was as it always had been.‖

―The Lake is drying out,‖ Drago said. ―The TimeKeepers have seized what they need

from Fernbrake, and now all that remains for them is what lies here.‖

Zared looked intently at Drago. ―Will the city remain safe? The gate we left by is hardly

fortified. If the swarms of animals outside are able to reach it…‖

―It will not dry out completely for a while yet,‖ Drago said, and turned for Spiredore.

―And we shall return within the day.‖

Spiredore, ever faithful to those who served the craft, took them safely to the Western

Ranges. A series of steep and narrow stairs deposited them before a narrow corridor that led into

an indiscernible blackness.

―Where are we?‖ Theod asked. His voice was strained, whether from nervousness

inherent in everyone‘s first experience of Spiredore, or what he thought he might find at the end

of the journey, no-one knew.

―I imagine we will find out at the end of this passageway,‖ Drago said.

They walked down the corridor in a tight group, their steps slow, their hands groping

along the walls so that they might not be surprised by a sudden drop in elevation, or a turn.

Even the feathered lizard, normally so exuberant, slunk directly behind Drago, his talons

now and then flaring and lighting the gloom.

Drago paused as his hand slid from the smoothness of dry plaster to the dampness of cave

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Categories: Sara Douglass
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