the girl and towards his mother. In the space of a heartbeat, a look, an understanding passed
between them and Azhure dropped her eyes, stricken.
In that instant she had been consumed with love. Unimaginable love for her had coursed
from him, but she had also felt her own love overwhelm her. Her love for her second-born
son…a love she had denied both to herself and to him for forty, long, horrid years.
Drago looked back to the girl.
She had clambered to her feet, still clutching the book, a final hiccupping sob escaping
her lips. She was a beautiful child, with glossy brunette hair and dark blue eyes, and with fragile
translucent skin.
―Katie,‖ Drago murmured, and walked towards the girl.
Caelum stepped back to let him pass, his gaze riveted on his brother. His eyes were very
bright and full of emotion, and Axis, watching him carefully, wondered at that. He would have
said it was fright, save that Caelum‘s face showed no hint of fear.
Unseen by any in the room, Faraday slipped through the door into the chamber. Behind
her crowded the pale shapes of the Alaunt. She stopped just behind Xanon, who stood behind
everyone else.
Drago squatted before the girl. ―Katie,‖ he said, and his smile widened into embracing
warmth.
She gave one final sniff, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and stared at him with
unblinking eyes. Slowly she took the book in both hands, and extended it towards him.
―For you,‖ she said.
―No!‖ Axis‘ voice rang across the chamber. ―That is meant for—‖
―Axis,‖ Azhure took his arm firmly, drawing him back against her body. ―Please, just
watch.‖
He tensed, angry, but he closed his mouth. Azhure could feel every muscle in his body
tighten, and she gripped his arm the harder.
Drago laid his staff on the floor and took the book from the girl‘s hands. Then, balancing
the heavy book under one arm, he took her hand in his, and held it loosely.
―Katie,‖ he said. ―See who I have brought for you.‖
And he turned his head slightly.
Faraday stepped out from behind the crowd, kneeling down on the cold, damp stone, and
held out her arms. She was weeping silently.
Katie drew a breath in shock, and then she was flying across the chamber, pushing past
Caelum, and ran into Faraday‘s arms. Katie was crying again, but this time with sheer joy as she
felt Faraday‘s arms lock tightly about her, and felt Faraday‘s face pressed into her hair, and smelt
the fragrance of the woman as it enveloped her.
No-one knew where to look, whether at the girl and Faraday, or back to Drago and
Caelum.
Drago rose to his feet, the book held in his hands.
―Drago and I must speak,‖ Caelum said. ―Alone.‖
Everyone left. No-one spoke, no-one demurred, no-one offered any hint of resistance.
Even Axis simply turned, and left.
Faraday gathered the girl into her arms, shot Drago a look of warmth and gratitude, and
followed them out.
The door closed behind her.
―This is a bad place to meet,‖ Drago said. ―We should talk, you and I, in a place of
sunshine, where we can feel the weight of the wind in our hair.‖
―Nevertheless,‖ Caelum said, his tone neutral, ―this is what we have come to, you and I, a
cold and damp cellar in the bowels of a mountain. A dungeon in all but name.‖
Drago dropped his eyes to the book. ―Caelum—‖
―No. Let me speak.‖
And having said this, Caelum hesitated. He wandered about the chamber in silence, as if
involved in a deep inspection of the walls. Occasionally he reached out and touched the stone,
running his fingers through the trails of moisture.
Drago watched him silently, content to let Caelum take his time. They had been moving
toward this moment for over forty years. Who could blame Caelum for now wanting to delay the
words a few moments more? It would be extraordinarily hard for him, for he would have to deny
everything he‘d ever believed in.
―For many months,‖ Caelum eventually said, his voice not much more than a
confessional murmur, ―I have been plagued by dreams. The hunt. Running terrified through the
forest, the hunter on a great black horse behind me.‖
Drago remembered his own dreams, of hunting, hunting, hunting, and of the joy he‘d felt
in the hunt.
His eyes filled with tears.
―Every time, no matter what I did,‖ Caelum continued, ―the hunter cornered me, and
every time he would lean down and plunge his sword or lance into my chest. Every time I woke
with the taste of blood in my mouth and the feel of it bubbling unhindered through my lungs.‖
Caelum turned from the wall and faced Drago. His arms were now relaxed by his side,
and his eyes were bright with courage. ―And every time, just before he sank his dreadful weapon
into my chest, the rider would lift his visor, and I would see his face.
―It has always been your face.‖
―I—‖
―No. I need to finish. I feared you as I have never feared another, Drago. I have spent my
life fearing you. You ruined my childhood, you scarred my adulthood, and you invaded my
dreams. You have lurked in every shadow about me, and your malevolence has stalked my
happiness, my resolve, and my confidence.‖
―I—‖
― No! ‖ Caelum screamed. ― Let me finish! ‖
He strode forward, and stabbed a finger into Drago‘s chest. Drago flinched slightly, but at
the pain in Caelum‘s eyes, rather than at his stabbing finger.
―You bastard!‖ Caelum spat, ―you stole my heritage, you stole everything from me.‖ A
slight pause. ―You have denied me even my self-respect.‖ He took a great breath, trying to
control his emotions.
―And yet,‖ Caelum said, his voice now little more than a whisper, ―you had every right to
do that, didn‘t you?‖
He turned and walked a few steps away before he faced Drago again. ―DragonStar was
the name of that rider, and he wore your face, and the malevolence and repulsiveness of his
existence was the mirror of my interpretation of you.
―Yet a few nights ago, trapped in the dream again, I realised a frightful truth. He isn’t
you, is he, Drago?‖
―No,‖ Drago said. ―It is the body of StarLaughter‘s son. DragonStar…the body that
Qeteb will use.‖
Caelum nodded. Again he breathed deeply. ―Drago…DragonStar…how we have
betrayed you, and in betraying you, how we have betrayed Tencendor.
―As I realised that the fiend who hunts me was not you and has never been you, I realised
something else. It felt so right,‖ Caelum raised a hand as if in appeal, ―that I knew it was truth.
―I learned, brother, that I have should been the second son. You should have been
heir…should have been StarSon.‖
―No!‖ Drago said. ―You have been the best of—‖
Caelum interrupted him with a low, deprecating laugh, and walked away a few more
steps. ―It is I who would have made a wonderful second son, DragonStar. I have all the qualit ies for it. The loyalty, the desire—the need—to serve someone else, the constant questioning of
self-worth, the constant feeling that I always had to prove myself, and that I had to prove my
right to sit upon the Throne of the Stars. I have not done well as StarSon, and that is only right,
because I have never been StarSon.‖
He turned back to face Drago. ― You have. You knew from the instant you grew to
awareness in Azhure‘s womb that you were the legitimate StarSon, and ‗tis no wonder you
developed such anger and resentment. You were right to rail against Axis as an infant, and
correct in demanding your true birthright.‖
―No! I was not right to do what I did,‖ Drago said. ―To ally myself with Gorgrael and
plot your death…I should have spent my life serving you, not betraying you, and surely not
resenting you.‖
Caelum waved a hand dismissively. ―We walk in circles with our words, brother.‖ He
paused. ―You say you were wrong to ally yourself with Gorgrael and to plot my death. But am I
any better?‖ They stared at each other, and then, neither yet ready to speak of the greatest
tragedy of all, Caelum continued: ―I should have been the second son, but instead I was born
first. Drago, I understand why I was born first, and I accept that, and I will do what is needed.‖
He half-smiled. ―If you want me to continue on with the pretence of StarSon, then I will
do so. It will serve the same end. If you think I must face Qeteb as StarSon, then I understand
that I must do so.‖
He stopped, and stared at Drago. ―You are weeping,‖ he whispered. ―Why?‖
―For the loss of both of our lives, Caelum, but mostly for you. For your courage. For your