Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

―Surely those basements were always to be meant as hiding places for the Icarii nation,‖

Azhure said, ―should they ever come under attack. That SpikeFeather chose to evacuate the

mountain rather than hide the people there speaks of the fear that all then regarded the

Gryphon—and Gorgrael.‖

―Yes, yes,‖ the Historian said, ―but these were unusual enchantments. Preceptor, my

friend, will you speak?‖

The Preceptor nodded. ―My primary task here in Star Finger was to instruct those

Enchanters who chose to spend their years in study and contemplation of the most arcane and

secret of enchantments. When my colleague the Historian came to me and engaged me in

conversations about the enchantments surrounding the basements, and after some days of

investigation and study on these most forgotten of enchantments, I realised there was an unusual

conundrum present.‖

Caelum shifted slightly, easing his sore muscles, and again caught Sicarius‘ eyes on him.

How long have you known, my friend? Caelum thought. Did you run about Sigholt and Star

Finger with my mother all these years and know the lie we all lived?

Sicarius‘ tail thumped once again.

―The current problem surrounding the enchantments guarding the basement are twofold.

One, why are they there in the first instance? The wards guarding the basements from attack

should be erected only after they are full with refugees. Second, given that they are there, they should not be working. The Star Dance is gone—how can they still be in place?‖

―But some enchantments do remain,‖ Azhure said. ―The mists surrounding Sigholt, for

example. The magic of the Maze Gate.‖

―Quite,‖ the Preceptor said. ―What enchantments remain are those which we may have

connected with the music of the Star Dance, but they are enchantments that perhaps draw their

power from somewhere else.‖

―The Lakes,‖ Caelum said. ―They draw their power from the Lakes, or from the craft that

lie within the Lakes.‖

―Yes,‖ the Historian said. ―So we wondered if the fact that the enchantments have

remained in place, and the fact they are in place in the first instance, means that they already

guard something within the basements!‖

―Something connected to the Lakes, and the craft, perhaps!‖ Adamon said, now walking

about the room, his movements restrained but tight with excitement. ―We had to see. We had to

search. We had to know!‖

―And?‖ Axis said quietly.

―And…‖ Adamon took a deep breath. ―My friends, do you feel you could manage the

long walk down to Star Finger‘s cellars?‖

They descended for hour past hour, and Adamon made them rest at regular intervals,

passing out food and liquid at each stop. A score of Icarii, bearing burning torches and light

packs with the food, came down with the gods, Caelum and the two scholars.

Behind all trod the Alaunt. Axis had noticed them rise to follow the party, and again had

thought about asking that the hounds should be detained, but had eventually remained silent.

At first, as they descended the stairs that curved about the main shafts, the way was

pleasant, if somewhat dark and chill. But after two hours they reached less travelled shafts, and

then moved into stairwells that had lain forgotten for generations of Icarii. The odd feather and

tuft of fur, covered with dust, lay as reminders that the only living beings who had descended into the bowels of Talon Spike had been Gorgrael‘s Gryphon.

The stairwells stank, stank from disuse, damp and the foulness that still remained of the

Gryphon. All had to watch their footing on edges that crumbled and surfaces that glistened with

ice.

Several turns of the stairwell behind the main party trod the Alaunt, the feathered lizard

openly travelling with them, albeit at the rear.

―No-one had any idea, really, that these stairs existed,‖ the Historian murmured as they

descended. He, like everyone, kept one hand on the wall for support. ―They had lain so long

forgotten.‖

―We came down here once, last week,‖ Adamon said, ―and found what we…well, found

what we did, and then decided to await your arrival before coming back.‖

―What‘s that noise?‖ Azhure said, raising her head.

―What we have come to see,‖ Adamon said, and the next instant the stair levelled out

onto undulating flagstones. ―This way. Come.‖ And he led them across the floor to a corridor.

As they walked down the corridor the noise became louder.

―Oh!‖ Azhure cried, and her eyes filled with tears. It was the sound of a child weeping, a

girl-child, and Azhure was reminded of her own painful and lost childhood. ―Let me past! I

must—‖

―No.‖ Adamon caught Azhure‘s arm as she tried to push past him. ―Please, Azhure, there

is nothing you can do for her, and no point in rushing on this damp and slippery flooring.‖

They walked through the dark corridor—it felt as close as a tomb! Azhure thought—for

another fifty or sixty paces, and then suddenly they were in a large domed chamber.

Empty, save for the figure of a five- or six-year-old girl huddled against the far wall, her

arms wrapped about a great leather-bound book, crying disconsolately.

―Oh!‖ Azhure cried, and finally managed to push past Adamon and rush towards the girl.

Instantly, the girl‘s sobs became screams of terror and, as Azhure neared her, the girl

literally convulsed with the strength of her fear. There was a flash of light, and Azhure was thrown against a side wall.

―No-one can approach her,‖ Adamon said, as Axis hurried to Azhure and helped her to

rise. She was uninjured, save for a bruise where her shoulder had hit the stone, and wheezing

from being badly winded.

―All have been repulsed who tried to near her, or comfort her,‖ Adamon continued.

―But look,‖ he pointed to the book held tightly within the girl‘s arms. She was relatively

still now, although she still cried, but her eyes remained terrified as she stared at the intruders.

―Look at what you can see on the front cover.‖

Between the white flesh of the girl‘s forearms, three words could be seen gleaming in

gold.

Enchanted Song Book.

―I think there lies the one way we can re-find the power of the Star Dance,‖ Adamon

said. ―She waits, we think, for the StarSon. Caelum. Will you—‖

Caelum had recognised the girl instantly as the child who had spoken to him in the field

of flowers. He hesitated, knowing it would be useless for him to approach her, but everyone was

looking at him, and so he started forward.

He hoped the girl would understand.

She had calmed even more now, and all watching thought, hoped, that Caelum might be

able to approach her when no-one else could.

The girl‘s sobs stopped, and her blue eyes widened.

When Caelum was no more than seven paces away, the girl rose to her feet.

―You came!‖ she cried out with glad voice, and Caelum smiled…and then he realised

that her eyes were fixed on something—someone—behind him. Very slowly, knowing who he

would see, Caelum turned about.

There, barely visible in the gloomy doorway leading to the corridor, stood Drago.

He smiled, his eyes only for the girl.

―Hello, Katie,‖ he said.

47

StarSon

Axis whirled about, shocked and angry at Drago‘s intrusion. How had he entered? How

had he known? Axis had had enough. He‘d promised Drago the last time he‘d seen him that if

Drago set foot in Star Finger he would die, and Axis meant to carry the promise through.

The instant he moved in Drago‘s direction, Caelum‘s voice cracked across the chamber.

― Father! ‖

Every eye in the chamber, save those of Drago and the girl, swivelled to Caelum.

―Father,‖ Caelum repeated, ―let Drago enter.‖

Axis stared at Caelum, shocked by the command in his son‘s voice, looked back to

Drago, then reluctantly took a step back. He felt Azhure at his back, and felt her take one of his

hands.

Drago had hardly noticed his father, and had hardly heard Caelum. He only had eyes for

the girl, as she him. Drago walked slowly into the chamber, the only display of emotion the

slight clenching and unclenching of his hand about the staff.

Azhure watched him carefully. He seemed different, but she could not define it.

Physically, he looked much the same; the copper hair slicked back into a tail, the leanness, the

thin face that looked perpetually tired because of the deep lines that ran from nose to mouth.

But his eyes were subtly different. Still violet, but deeper, more alive. Deeply

compassionate, Azhure realised with a start, and with a depth of knowing that she‘d never, never

seen there previously.

Power? Maybe. But how? Something the Demons had invested him with? Azhure

abandoned that thought the instant it crossed her mind. No. This came from within him, deep

within him, and was somehow him.

―DragonStar,‖ she mouthed silently—and completely involuntarily—as he drew level

with her, and for the first time since he‘d entered the chamber, Drago‘s eyes flickered away from