stairwell that leads to the Star Gate. When the Barrow, chamber and stairwell were completely
built, the body of the Enchanter-Talon was laid upon the stone block and the Barrow sealed.
Once sealed in his tomb the Enchanter-Talon would eventually make his way down the stairwell
into the Chamber of the Star Gate and walk through. Each had his own entrance to the Star
Gate—thus twenty-six Barrows for twenty-six Enchanter-Talons. Twenty-six gates to the Star
Gate. Once through the Star Gate, it is said the Enchanter-Talons wait.‖
―Wait for what?‖ Faraday‘s eyes were wide. She had not believed that anything the
Forbidden did could be so hauntingly beautiful. Despite her devout upbringing, Faraday was
rapidly losing her uneasiness with talk of things magical. This talk of the StarFarers and the Star
Gate fascinated her.
Yr shrugged. ―Who knows, darling girl? They wait for whatever concerns them.‖
Timozel didn‘t like the sound of this. How could these Enchanter-Talons make their way
down a flight of stairs when they were dead? No wonder the Seneschal taught that magic was
evil. Yr stepped over to him, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder and leaning close. ―Who
knows how these dead Enchanter-Talons made their way down, Timozel. I confess that it is the living who concern me.‖ She rubbed her other hand gently against his chest and leaned against
his body.
Timozel‘s face hardened and he seized her hand, lifting it off his chest. Did she seek to
enchant him with her charms? Yr shrugged and stepped back, clutching the cloak closed where it
had gaped open. There would be time enough later.
―Enough,‖ Jack said mildly. ―It is time to descend. We have no food or water. The
quicker we move through the quicker we can find something to eat.‖
Jack picked up his heavy staff and hefted it in his left hand, running his right hand gently
over the metal knob at its apex. Faraday looked closely at the metal knob for the first time. It had
deep lines etched into it, whirling in complicated patterns across the knob that was about the size
of a man‘s clenched fist. The metal looked strange, blackened, tarnished almost. Then her
attention was diverted from the knob to Jack. He was talking to the staff, very quietly so that his
actual words could not be heard, but with a beautiful cadence underpinning his words. He almost
seemed to be singing to it. Faint emerald light pulsed from his fingertips in rhythm with his
voice. Yr stepped up softly behind Faraday. ―Step back this way, Faraday,‖ she whispered. ―You
must not get in the way.‖
Yr and Faraday joined Timozel by the far wall. He was staring at Jack, his eyes dark with
suspicion, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.
Suddenly Jack seized the staff in both hands, whirled it at shoulder height three times
around his body, then thrust the metal tip against a spot in the floor.
― Ecrez dontai StarFarer! ‖ he cried, and instantly a large section of the stonework
underfoot dropped several handspans and slid underneath the rest of the floor. Stone steps
spiralled out of sight into the blackness below.
―I am impressed, Jack,‖ Yr said very quietly. ―You seemed to have learned well during
your long wait for the StarMan.‖ Jack raised his head from his contemplation of the steps. His
jewel-like eyes were faintly satisfied. He nodded in acknowledgement of her compliment.
―Let us go. Timozel, you will bring up the rear with one of the lamps. I will lead with the
other. Yr and Faraday can come between us. The climb is long, I fear. Please be careful, the steps
can sometimes be uneven.‖
They had to climb slowly. The stairs were steep and, as Jack had cautioned, uneven in
places as the stairwell wound down deep into the earth in tight spirals. Jack, Yr and Faraday had
to carefully hold their cloaks out of the way lest they trip over their trailing hems, and Jack gave
the lamp to Yr so that he could manage both his cloak and the heavy staff.
Faraday concentrated hard to avoid falling. The steps seemed to spiral down into infinity,
and she lost all track of time. Her calves and knees ached after only a few minutes and, as they
descended further, the ache intensified into a burning sensation. She was so lost in contemplation
of her pain that she bumped heavily into Yr when she stopped in front of her.
―Pay attention!‖ Yr snapped. ―Jack has called a rest.‖
Faraday mumbled an apology and sat down to massage her aching calves. ―How much
further, Jack?‖
―We‘re about halfway down,‖ Jack said. Faraday was glad to see that both he and Yr
were also massaging their legs. Magical creatures they might be, but it didn‘t stop their muscles
from complaining. Timozel was stoically pretending that his own legs didn‘t ache.
Yr began to comb out Faraday‘s wet and tangled hair with her fingers. Faraday smiled
and closed her eyes. She would give two years of her life for a warm bath, she thought vaguely,
lulled into tranquillity by the touch of Yr‘s hands.
As Faraday‘s eyes closed Timozel surreptitiously stretched his legs across the width of
the stairwell, his face grimacing with relief as the ache began to abate. He sighed and settled his
shoulders comfortably against the stone wall.
For a while he watched Yr comb Faraday‘s hair, then his eyes, like Faraday‘s, slowly
closed.
He was on a great beast—not a horse, something different—that dipped and soared. It
screamed with the voice of…
Timozel‘s eyes flew open and he sat forward, startled. For an instant he could have sworn
that he was…
―What‘s wrong?‖ Jack‘s quiet voice asked, concerned. Yr and Faraday were too absorbed
in each other to notice Timozel.
―Nothing,‖ said Timozel tersely. ―Nothing.‖
Jack stared a moment longer, then sat back, turning his face to the blackness below them.
No wonder the Axe-Wielder is unsettled, he thought. This is a stairwell haunted by the memory
of strange steps. He tried to rest, wishing that fate had not brought them to this Barrow.
Prophecy.
Slowly Timozel leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes.
He fought for a great Lord, and in the name of that Lord he commanded a might y army
that undulated for leagues in every direction.
Again Timozel‘s eyes flew open, but this time he kept still. Commanded a great army?
He almost chuckled. Commanded a great army? Humph! Not if Axis had his way, he thought
sourly. So determined is he not to favour me because he beds my mother I‘ll be lucky to achieve
chief of the horse lines before I‘m fifty. Timozel felt a stab of resentment, deeper than he‘d ever
felt before. He had a poor future in the Axe-Wielders.
He closed his eyes again.
The cold wind blew at his back as hundreds of thousands screamed his name and hurried
to fulfil his every wish. Before him another army, his pitiful enemy, lay quavering in terror. They
could not counter his brilliance. Their commander lay abed, unable to summon the courage to
meet Timozel in just combat.
This must be a vision from Artor—a reward for taking the holy vows of Championship.
Remarkable victories were his for the taking.
―Yes,‖ Timozel whispered.
In the name of his Lord he would clear Achar of the filth that invaded.
―Yes,‖ he said, louder this time. He revelled in the power he would wield. His fist
clenched by his side.
His name would live in legend forever.
―Timozel?‖ Faraday touched his hand. ―Are you all right?‖
Timozel hesitated, not wanting to let the vision go, then he opened his eyes and smiled at
Faraday. ―Yes. Yes, I will be all right.‖
All will be well.
I will be a powerful Champion, he thought, for people to scream my name thus. He
muttered a quick prayer to Artor, thanking him for the vision.
―All will be well,‖ he whispered.
―Let‘s move,‖ Jack said finally, and they all rose stiffly to their feet. Yr had done her best
with Faraday‘s hair, and now it lay coiled into a neat roll in the nape of her neck, the worst of the
tangles and mud removed. Faraday turned to look at Timozel as they started to climb down again, his confident smile reassuring her. She thought she was going to like having her own
personal Champion.
Timozel followed the others with new assurance. Artor‘s vision made him feel older,
more purposeful. Harder. Ready to stand and defend Faraday—and Artor himself, if need be—at
a moment‘s notice. A true Champion.
They continued to climb down the stairs, the only relief from complete blackness the dim
glow provided by the lamps Yr and Timozel carried. Faraday shivered as she thought what it
must have been like for a person to climb down this stairwell in total darkness. But then, perhaps
these Enchanter-Talons made their own light.