sons,‖ he would whisper, and in the end GoldFeather had believed him.
Yet neither had ever totally recovered from the loss of a son who had been conceived
among the joy of newly discovered love. StarDrifter had been enthralled with the growing babe,
spending hours with his hands planted on her belly, feeling his son wake to awareness within her
womb. He would sing to him for as long as Rivkah could sit still without her legs cramping, and
one day during her sixth month of pregnancy he had lifted his remarkable face from her belly in
astonishment. ―He sings back!‖ StarDrifter whispered, amazed. ―He sings back to me! Truly,
Rivkah, you have conceived a child that will wake Tencendor with his voice!‖ They had laughed
then, but the laughter had died when Searlas had returned. Before StarDrifter could act Searlas
had spirited her away to the Retreat in Gorkentown.
GoldFeather had eventually come out of her healing process in Talon Spike with her
body completely healed of its injuries. The Icarii Healers had even managed to return the blood flow to her frozen extremities so that she lost none of her fingers or toes. The only sign of her
physical ordeal was her magnificent auburn hair which had turned completely silver except for a
golden streak where StarDrifter had rested his hand on her brow. But even safe within Talon
Spike at StarDrifter‘s side GoldFeather could not find complete happiness. The Icarii were a
prickly lot with their damnable pride and haughtiness and their obsession with enchantments and
mysticism, and though they quickly overcame their initial suspicion of her and tried to be kind,
GoldFeather could often sense their pity for her not far below the surface. And StarDrifter‘s
insistence on taking a Groundwalker for his wife caused more than a few raised eyebrows.
Now StarDrifter and she shared another sorrow. One that they never, never spoke of, yet
one that nevertheless caused them deeper unhappiness with each passing year. The Icarii were a
race of remarkable longevity. They easily lived five or six times the span of a human or Avar
life. StarDrifter was an Icarii Enchanter still early in his life and his natural lifespan would carry
him hundreds of years past her death. The knowledge that she would age and die before he had
reached the middle years of his life was a knowledge that both refused to ever mention. Already
GoldFeather was ageing before his loving eyes. She found that difficult to accept. Part of the
reason she was spending longer and longer periods away from Talon Spike with the Avar was
her discomfort in the disparity in their ageing and in the as-yet-unconscious pity she could see in
StarDrifter‘s eyes. It is difficult, she mused, for a human woman to love an Icarii. The love will
never last. Already she had doubts about StarDrifter‘s continued commitment to her. She sighed.
What would she do once she could no longer tolerate the pity in his eyes? GoldFeather shivered
and turned her thoughts to her daughter.
Four years after she had joined StarDrifter in Talon Spike GoldFeather had given birth to
EvenSong. Her birth brought them great joy and EvenSong was a beautiful daughter, her voice
reflecting the soaring notes of the bird she had been named after. She was now approaching her
twenty-fifth year, the year of coming of age for the Icarii. Soon she would join the Strike Force
for the obligatory five years of military service. Stars help her if she was in the Strike Force
during the time of the Prophecy of the Destroyer.
EvenSong had inherited little from her mother; her Icarii blood ran stronger than her
human. Though all Icarii children were born as human babes, at about the age of four or five the
children started to develop the buds of their wings which, by age seven, were developed enough
to carry them. Because of her human blood EvenSong literally had to have her wingbuds coaxed
out of her, and when she was a child StarDrifter had spent many a long hour singing to her,
stroking her back, encouraging the wings to form.
Would her son have developed wings too, had StarDrifter been there to assist him? Had
he inherited the Icarii longevity, as EvenSong had in its entirety? What other Icarii
characteristics were coursing about in his blood? He had not forgotten to sing, if he had sung the
Song of Recreation for Shra. GoldFeather breathed deeply, thinking of that. No Icarii Enchanter,
not even StarDrifter, the most powerful of them all, could sing the Song that well.
Yet…Axis…had not had a moment‘s training, had not had the benefits of years of preparation
and study that all other Icarii Enchanters had. What had she and StarDrifter bred?
Axis. GoldFeather‘s mouth slowly lost its hard line and curled softly. What an unusual
name. It was not an Acharite name. Who had given it to him? Jayme? She and StarDrifter, like
all joyous parents, had discussed names as they waited for the birth of their son, but had left it
too late to fix on one or the other. Well, Axis it would have to be. It was, somehow, appropriate.
Now as GoldFeather helped Azhure and Grindle‘s two wives set up the tents in the trees
beside the groves she fretted for StarDrifter‘s arrival. It had been almost three weeks since she learned that her son had not died, and in those three weeks she had not been able to get word to
StarDrifter. All her thoughts were now of Axis and StarDrifter. Azhure had told GoldFeather all
she knew about the BattleAxe, but it was not much, and it left GoldFeather hungering for more
information.
Had GoldFeather not been so lost in her own thoughts and tumbling emotions she would
have seen that Azhure was suffering much the same way that she herself had when she first
joined the Icarii. All races, whether the haughty Icarii, the suspicious Avar, or the blinded
Acharites instinctively regarded newcomers with some degree of intolerance or pity.
Azhure looked about her curiously as they set up camp about thirty paces into the tree
line that surrounded the groves. She and Pease were staking down the first tent while Fleat and
GoldFeather were starting on the second, lifting the heavy leather covers over the rigid
framework of wooden poles. Around them the Avar Clans that had joined them during the last
few days were also setting up their tents, and there was an air of suppressed excitement that was
impossible to ignore. Both Pease and Fleat had been very quiet since arriving at the groves; even
the children moved quietly about the GhostTree camp, helping their mothers clear a space for the
campfire and lay out some cold food for a simple supper. Raum and Barsarbe had left to meet
with the other Banes, while Grindle and Helm had vanished into the trees almost as soon as they
arrived.
Pease noticed Azhure looking about and smiled at her. ―You have felt the excitement,
haven‘t you?‖
Azhure nodded. ―Everyone seems very quiet, though. I would have expected, oh, I don‘t
know, people greeting each other, exchanging news, that sort of thing. The Clans don‘t normally
meet together very much, do they?‖
Pease shook her head, sucking her thumb to relieve the sting where she had caught it
between one of the leather thongs used for tying the tent flaps down and a tent pole. ―No. We
only congregate in these numbers for the Yuletide and Beltide Meets. This evening we will all
gather in the Earth Tree Grove and exchange greetings and news. Tidings will have to wait until
then.‖
Azhure thought for a moment, her eyes downcast. ―And will you discuss my case then?‖
Pease moved over to Azhure, her dark eyes gentle. ―Azhure, we do not mean to be rude
or unwelcoming to you. But you must understand that we are a cautious people. You are one of
the Acharites, one of those who drove us from our homes and murdered the forests that once
stood as far as the Widewall Bay. And,‖ Pease did not particularly like to mention this again, but
perhaps Azhure still did not realise how seriously the Avar regarded those who caused another‘s
death, ―you have committed violence. The killing of anyone, let alone a father, we regard as
abhorrent. Yes, I know that you killed him accidentally and in defence of Shra—but there is also
the fact that you struck the Axe-Wielder. Two acts of violence, one through carelessness, one
premeditated.‖ She shrugged. ―For the Avar to allow one who has committed violence to walk
the paths of the Avarinheim is extremely rare. Your people have murdered with their axes most
of the once great Avarinheim as they once murdered the Icarii and Avar. Now you have killed
your father. Don‘t you see that we believe that your people are inherently violent?‖
―Pease, I have nowhere else to go. If you reject me, then where can I go? I have no-one