Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

withered. Those that still hung fat and full had lost their jewel-like colours, and were now insipid

yellows and blues.

Slowly, Faraday dropped her eyes.

Isfrael sat upon his wooden throne under one of the stone arches leading into the inner

sanctum of the Earth Tree herself.

He wore only his kirtle of twigs, his hair was uncombed and twisting close to wildness,

his arms and hands tense where they gripped the armrests, his eyes narrow, his face—gods, but it

reminded Faraday so much of his father!—carefully impassive.

He knew Faraday was there, even though the outer ring of trees still hid her.

She stepped into the grove, and a ripple of awareness passed through the Avar. There was

a buzz of excitement and comment, and faces and bodies swivelled towards her.

―Welcome to the Lady Faraday,‖ Isfrael said, his voice clear across the entire gathering.

―Welcome to Faraday, my Lady Mother. What do you here, Faraday?‖

Why so hostile? Faraday thought. Why? She remembered the conversation they‘d had in

the Silent Women Woods just before she‘d left to go north with Drago…if conversation it could

be called.

―I might well ask you the same question, Isfrael,‖ Faraday said.

She walked further into the grove, stepping carefully though the ranks of the Avar.

―You are not welcome here,‖ Isfrael said.

Faraday stopped, stunned and angry. Not welcome…not welcome here?

She was not the only one who heard Isfrael‘s words with dismay. A murmur ran through

the Avar, and by Faraday‘s side a woman reached up her hand and took Faraday‘s briefly in a

gesture of support.

―I thank you,‖ Faraday said softly to the woman, and she resumed her walk towards

Isfrael.

―I come on behalf of Drago—‖ she began.

―My mother,‖ Isfrael said, ―has an incredible talent for attaching herself to every leading

male figure in every crisis this land endures. Do you whore for Drago as you whored for my

father?‖

Faraday‘s temper snapped. ―It was not whoring that made you, but love, you arrogant,

be-twigged bastard! And love is something I cannot expect you to understand!‖

―You are not welcome here!‖ Isfrael repeated, and rose to his feet. ―You should never

have left the legend to which Fate consigned you.‖

Suddenly, in a blinding moment of revelation, Faraday understood why he was so hostile.

Isfrael, Mage-King of the Avar, Lord of the Forests, loved his legendary mother dearly…but

only so long as she remained legend. As legend, she embellished and enriched Isfrael‘s own

power and own legend.

As a walking reality, given the Avar‘s love and loyalty to her and her own history of

power, she was a massive threat. Possibly so massive, that in Isfrael‘s own mind, she outweighed even the threat of the TimeKeepers.

No wonder he had not evacuated the forests. Here he was lord. In Sanctuary he only

became another chapter in the continuing saga of his mother‘s legend. Isfrael would rather be

lord of a smoking ruin than king of a people in exile.

Faraday felt very, very sorry for him, yet at the same time she was furiously angry. No

king could let himself be overwhelmed with such pettiness!

She took a deep breath and addressed the Avar people.

Even though she was dressed simply in her white robe, she was nonetheless an imposing

figure with her aura of power and sheer anger.

―My people,‖ she began, and Isfrael stepped down from his throne and began to push

through the crowd towards her.

―I once walked among you as Tree Friend. Then, when fate and the Prophecy of the

Destroyer meant that I had to leave you and follow the StarMan to Gorgrael‘s Ice Fortress, I left

you in the capable hands of Shra, who in turn was to hand responsibility over to my son.

― That,” she pointed at Isfrael, now more than halfway towards her, ―is no more my son

than Gorgrael was ever my true lover.‖

―Silence!‖ Isfrael roared. Fury rippled off him, and made him appear twice his normal

size.

Faraday did not back down. ―If you were the true son of Faraday Tree Friend,‖ she said

quietly, ―you would have led these people into Sanctuary long before now.‖

Isfrael stopped a pace away. His face was flushed, his chest heaving, his fists clenched by

his sides. About them the Avar also tensed, ready to leap to Faraday‘s defence if need be. For

days now they‘d been uncomfortable with Isfrael‘s decision to reject Sanctuary, and had met

with him this evening to try to change his mind.

―We can survive these TimeKeepers,‖ Isfrael growled. ―The trees will protect us. There is

no threat!‖

Where had she heard these words before? Faraday wondered.

―No threat?‖ she said, and she turned slightly so she was directly facing the Earth Tree.

―Then what is that?‖

Isfrael jerked, as if he was going to lunge for her, but before he could move a ghostly

apparition appeared under the stone circle and walked forward so it could address the Avar.

It was Barsarbe, once senior Bane of the Avar, and champion of the idea that the Avar

could wait out the time of Gorgrael within the safety of their forests without aiding the StarMan.

The apparition opened her mouth, and spoke. “My people, is this our fight? We have the

Avarinheim, and now we have Minstrelsea to the south. The Earth Tree sings, and the forests

sing with her. We are safe. Gorgrael cannot touch us!”

Barsarbe spread her arms wide, hands and voice entreating. “Don’t we have what we

wanted? So why help Axis? It will surely only bring further pain to our people, and Mother

knows we have endured enough pain. We have what we want,” she repeated slowly, lowering her

hands, her voice becoming strident. “I say we have the choice of refusing the StarMan.”

She lowered her arms, and grinned in triumph. “And further I say, why not let Gorgrael

have the plains. Why care we? We will be safe here.”

Isfrael stared horrified at the shade which, now that she‘d finished her piece, slowly

faded.

―If I didn‘t know better, Isfrael,‖ Faraday said softly, ―I could swear that you were

Barsarbe‘s son, not mine. What has happened to you? Does absolute power corrupt absolutely?

―My friends.‖ Now Faraday turned to the Avar and spread her arms wide in entreaty as

Barsarbe had. She closed her eyes briefly, and prayed for strength.

―My friends. You cannot hide here. When Qeteb rises he will tear these forests apart as a

child will tear apart a pastry tart. See.‖

The entire grove was overwhelmed in vision.

A mighty wind blew in from the west. It billowed with clouds of grey dust and flames of

fire, and among the wind strode a giant who reached to the sky. With one step he was over the

Nordra, and with another he straddled the Plains of Tare. The next step brought his foot crashing

down in the Silent Woman Woods.

Trees splintered and screamed. Fire leapt from grove to grove. The giant roared, and

when he roared the entire forest disintegrated.

There was nothing left save splinters of wood littering the bared soil.

Nothing, save the huddled masses of the Avar.

The giant bellowed again, and lifted his foot to bring it roaring down on a hapless Clan

group.

It was enough. Faraday ended the vision.

―Qeteb will destroy you,‖ she said softly. ―I present you with a choice. Take the path I

will make for you into Sanctuary, and perhaps have the chance to rebuild. Or die here, and die

knowing that everything you love will die with you.‖

Isfrael stared at her. ―You are no longer Tree Friend,‖ he said. ―You relinquished that

right when you went—‖

―She never relinquished that right in our hearts.‖

A grey-bearded man stood carefully upright, using the shoulder of his daughter to steady

himself. ―I remember you, Faraday Tree Friend,‖ he said, ―although I was but a hotheaded young

man when you stood here in this grove and gave us the StarMan. Faraday…Faraday…then you

told us that you would not lead us into the future. Now?‖

―Now?‖ Faraday glanced at Isfrael, then looked back at the old man. ― Then I said I would

provide you with the path. I thought that path was to be Isfrael. I was wrong.‖

Isfrael went rigid in disbelief. With those words Faraday had effectively disinherited him!

Hatred surged through him, but Isfrael did not speak.

―Here,‖ Faraday withdrew the cube of light from her pocket and expanded it into the

doorway, ―is the beginning of the path. As yet I do not know where it will lead, but I ask you to

trust me, and to trust in the future.‖

The grey-beard looked at the doorway, then he bent, took the hand of his daughter, and

raised her up.

Without hesitation, they both stepped through the doorway.

A silence, and a moment of decision.

Then, almost as if of the one mind, the entire Avar nation rose to their feet and, one by

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