as they ran the trees hissed and spat, trying to drive these abominations from the paths of
Minstrelsea.
But something more powerful—and more fearsome—than the trees pulled the beasts
forward.
Mot lifted his head, and laughed. ―They come!‖ he cried, and the Demons rose as one
from the rubble where they had been waiting.
StarLaughter scrambled to her feet, her lifeless child clutched tight in her arms.
―What comes?‖ she said. They‘d been waiting here for days, and although the Demons
had waited calmly, StarLaughter had been almost beside herself with impatience. Her child
awaited his destiny—and all they could do was sit amid the ruined Barrows. This was all they
had come through the Star Gate for? She lifted her head. Something did come, for she could hear
the distant pounding of many feet.
There was a movement beside her, and Sheol rested a hand on StarLaughter‘s shoulder.
―Watch,‖ she said, and as she spoke something burst from the forest before them.
StarLaughter‘s eyes widened as the creatures approached and slowed into a thumping
walk. She laughed. ―How beautiful!‖ she cried.
―Indeed,‖ whispered Sheol.
Waiting at the foot of the pile of rubble were seven massive horses—except they were
not horses at all for, although they had the heads and bodies of horses, their great legs ended not
in hooves, but in paws.
StarLaughter thought she knew what they were. When she‘d been alive—before her
hated husband, WolfStar, had thought to murder her—she‘d heard Corolean legends of a great
emperor who had conquered much of the known world. This emperor had a prized stallion, as
black as night, which had been born with paws instead of hooves.
The stallion had been as fast as the wind, according to legend, because his paws lent him
cat-like grace and swiftness, and he was as savage as any wild beast, striking out with his claws
in battle, and dealing death to any who dared attack his rider. No wonder the emperor had
managed to conquer so much with such a mount beneath him.
And here seven waited. Tencendor would quail before them.
Seven, one for each of the Demons, one for her—and one, eventually, for her son.
―DragonStar,‖ she whispered, cuddling her child close, and started down the slope.
They rode north-west through the forest through the night, heading for Cauldron Lake.
The Demons leading, StarLaughter, her child safe in a sling at her bosom, behind them. They
rode, but it was not a pleasant ride.
The horses were swift and comfortable to sit, but they were unnerved by the forest.
StarLaughter did not blame them, for she hated the forest herself—no wonder the
Demons wanted to leave it as quickly as they did. To each side, trees hissed, their branches
crackling ominously above, the ground shifting about the base of their trunks as if roots strove
for the surface.
Barzula laughed, but there was a note of strain in his laughter. ―See the trees,‖ he said.
―They think they can stop us, but all they can do is rattle their twigs in fury.‖
None of the others replied. Mot, Sheol and Raspu were tense, watchful, while beside
Barzula, Rox rode as if in a waking dream. This was night, his time, and terror drove all before
it. Rox had his head tilted slightly back, his eyes and mouth open. A faint wisp of grey sickness
slithered from a nostril and into the night. He fed, growing more powerful with every soul he
tainted.
If the trees unnerved the Demons and StarLaughter alike, then even worse than the trees
were the beings that slunk in the shadows. Scores, perhaps hundreds, of strange creatures crept,
parallel with the path, through the forest. StarLaughter caught only the barest glimpses of
them—but they were creatures such as she had never seen before: badgers with horns and crests
of feathers, birds with gems for eyes, great cats splotched with emerald and orange.
StarLaughter did not like them at all. She tightened her hold about her son, and called
softly to Raspu who was immediately in front of her: ―My friend, can these hurt us?‖
Raspu hesitated, then twisted slightly on his mount so he could reply. ―Once your son
strides in all his glory, my dear, this forest will wither and die, and all that inhabit it will run
screaming before him.‖
StarLaughter smiled. ―Good.‖ She started to say something more, but there was a
movement a little further down the path before them, and then a great roar tore into the night.
―Get you gone from these paths! Your tread fouls the very soil!‖
The horses abruptly halted. They hissed and milled about agitatedly. StarLaughter peered
ahead—and laughed.
Before them stood the strangest man she had ever seen. He wore only a wrap—a wrap
that seemed woven of twigs and leaves, for Stars‘ sakes!—about his hips, and was otherwise
bare-footed and chested. His hair was a wild tangle of faded blonde curls, and two horns arched
up from his hairline.
True, he had the feel of power about him, but StarLaughter did not think it was any match
for what her companions wielded.
To one side and slightly behind the man stood a slender woman, dark haired and
serene-faced, wearing a robe with leaping deer about its hemline. Her hand rested on the man‘s
shoulder.
StarLaughter‘s lip curled. A Bane. How pitiful.
―Leave this place!‖ the betwigged man cried, and took a belligerent step forward.
―And who are you to so demand?‖ Sheol said pleasantly, but StarLaughter could hear the
power that underlay her voice, and she smiled. This man was dead. The only question was who
would strike the match.
―I am Isfrael, Mage-King of the Avar,‖ the man replied.
―And the woman?‖ Sheol asked. It was polite, perhaps, to find out the names of those
about to die, but StarLaughter had always thought such niceties well beyond Sheol. Mayhap she
was but toying with her prey.
―I am Shra,‖ the slender woman said. ―Senior Bane among the Avar.‖
―The Avar were ever troublesome,‖ StarLaughter said. ―Grim-faced and petulant-browed.
Perhaps it is time they were finally put away.‖
Surprisingly, Isfrael smiled. ―You do not like this place, do you. Why is that?‖
Sheol shifted on her horse, and shot a look at Raspu, but when she spoke, her voice was
even and calm. ―It is a place that has no meaning, Mage-King. I do not like it.‖
―You do not like it, Demon, because you cannot touch it.‖
Sheol literally hissed, then she swivelled about on her horse. ― Rox!‖
The Demon of Terror slowly focused his eyes on the two before him, then his face
twisted, and he cried out. ―I cannot! The trees protect them!‖
Isfrael smiled, and took another step forward. He raised a hand, and in it StarLaughter
saw that he clutched a twig.
―You ravage freely across the plains, Demons, but know that eventually the very land
will rise up against you.‖
―When we are whole, we will tear this land apart, rock by rock, tree by tree!‖ Sheol said.
Isfrael‘s grin widened…and then he threw the twig at Sheol.
Sheol knew what that twig was. It was not simply a twig, but the entire shadowy power of
the trees that hurtled towards her.
She screamed in stark terror, reflexively raising both arms before her face, and then her
scream turned into a roar and the twig disintegrated the instant before it hit her.
― Filth!‖ she screamed, and she grabbed the mane of her horse and dug her heels cruelly
into its flanks.
The horse leaped forward, bellowing, its teeth bared, its neck arching as if to strike.
As if from nowhere, another twig appeared in Isfrael‘s hand, and this he brandished
before him. ―Shra! Stand firm!‖ he cried. ―I rely on you now as never before!‖
The horse lunged, snapping at the twig, but it did not seize it.
― Filth!‖ Sheol screamed again, and now Barzula and Mot also drove their creatures
forward.
Unnoticed, the seventh, and riderless, horse, slunk back a few steps until it merged with
the night.
―Shra!‖ Isfrael murmured. As mighty as he was, he still needed her power to sustain him.
The three black beasts roiled before him, snapping and snarling, swiping their claws through the
air.
Yet still they held back, so that their teeth and claws came within a finger span of Isfrael,
but did not actually touch him.
―The very land will rise up against you!‖ Isfrael shouted one more time, and at his shout
the trees themselves screamed.
Shra staggered, almost unable to control the power that Isfrael was using. She could feel
it rope through her, feel it burn up through the soles of her feet where they touched the forest
floor, flood through her body, and then flow into Isfrael through her hand on his shoulder.
All the Demons were screaming now, unstinting in their efforts to drive their mounts
forward over this man before he could bring the full power of the trees to bear upon them. The