“She defeated Artor.” Axis tried to find hope. “Yes,” Xanon replied, “but she cannot hope to kill Gorgrael. His power is…different…to Artor’s, and Artor was already mortally damaged by the collapse of the Seneschal and the loss of faith in the Way of the Plough. And Azhure could use the power of the Nine, the full circle, to aid her against Artor. She cannot hunt Gorgrael.”
“She can use none of her skills against Gorgrael? But his power is weakened, too.”
“Axis,” Xanon spoke slowly, but firmly. “Gorgrael’s life is tied to yours by the Prophecy. None can be destroyed unless it be by the other. Yes, Gorgrael’s power has weakened, but only concerning his hold over the weather. Otherwise he is as virulent as ever he was.”
“Then Stars help her,” Axis whispered, “for without her, Gorkenfort will be lost. / will be lost.”
Gorgrael tilted his head and snarled at the fretting baby. He lifted his taloned hand again, but this time he stayed the blow.
The baby would be no use dead.
But if Gorgrael had known that the baby would fret and whimper and whine night and day then he would seriously have reconsidered the entire plan.
“Silence!” he hissed, and the baby swallowed and tried to halt his ceaseless crying, staring at Gorgrael with eyes wide with terror and pain.
Mama?
“Your Mama will not help you here, wretch.” Gorgrael dropped his hand and regarded the baby, his silver eyes merciless. The fact that this baby was his nephew meant nothing to him. In fact, Gorgrael did not know what it was about this limp, constantly complaining lump of flesh that made Axis and his woman love it so much.
Would Axis risk all to rescue it?
Well, he would know soon enough. If Axis was going to try then he would try soon. After all, who knew what the nasty Destroyer was doing to the poor little baby?
Gorgrael smiled and teased the baby with a rough claw down the length of his body.
The boy whimpered despite his attempts to keep silent and Gorgrael’s face twisted. Nasty, nasty thing! He dug his claw in, to teach the thing to keep still and quiet, and the boy screwed his eyes shut and opened his mouth.
But no sound came out. The scream remained silent.
“Good baby,” Gorgrael smiled, and patted the thing on the head. “Good baby.”
Perhaps the mewly creature could be trained, after all.
The Dream From the edge of the great forest Azhure flew north-west, across the Nordra and down the HoldHard Pass. Flew almost literally, for Azhure wrapped herself and her horse in so much power that she made the eight- to ten-day journey in under three. Behind her the hounds coursed silently, their breath reserved for running.
Azhure did not stop the entire way, and yet, when she reined up before the bridge into Sigholt, Venator still pranced as fresh as the hour he had begun his run and the hounds milled restlessly about his legs.
“Well?” Azhure demanded as the horse stepped onto the bridge.
“He is gone,” the bridge mourned, “and we do not know where. I -”
The bridge had been about to confess her own sin in his kidnap but Azhure had not waited to hear it. Already she was sliding from Venator’s back in the courtyard of the Keep and running for the entrance.
Rivkah, sitting morosely with Cazna in the Great Hall after their evening meal, leapt to her feet as the door burst open.
“Azhure!” She held out her arms to hug her but Azhure evaded them.
“Well?”
Cazna stood, her face pale. For two days and nights she had remained abed, so terrified she could not rise, seeing again and again as Imibe was torn apart; watching again and again as the horrific creature stood over her, one hand raised to smite her dead, the other clutched about Caelum, dangling helpless at his side.
“The roof,” Cazna said, and Azhure swung her fierce glare her way.
“You were there?’
Cazna nodded, then winced and cried out as Azhure seized her shoulders in rough hands. ” What happened?”
“We were on the roof. Imibe, myself and the children.”
“DragonStar too?” Azhure snapped.
Cazna nodded, her blue eyes enormous.
“And?”
“And . . . and a great shadow fell from the sky. A Gryphon, from the description I have heard of them. On its back was . . . a creature fouler than any nightmare, Azhure. He went straight for Imibe, who held Caelum. She . . . she was torn to bits.”
Azhure briefly closed her eyes. Imibe had been a friend. Poor Imibe; and yet she had died a warrior’s death, protecting Caelum to the last.
And poor Caelum. Twice in his short life to have such horror descend on him from the skies. “And?”
“And the creature seized Caelum from her arms,” Cazna continued hoarsely, more terrified now by the anger in Azhure’s eyes than by the memory.
“And yet you lived? Why, Cazna?” Her voice was very soft.
“Would you that I died too, Azhure? Would that make you feel better?” Now it was Cazna who battled with her temper. “The creature turned and came for me. I thought I was dead! I cowered on the paving, trying to protect Drago with my body …”
Would that he was the one taken, Azhure thought.
“…but he paused, his taloris,” Cazna shuddered, “red with Imibe’s blood, then stepped back. ‘A witness,’ he said. ‘Good.’ Then he mounted his flying creature, Caelum…Caelum still caught fast in his claws, and flew away. Azhure . . . Azhure! I could do nothing!”
Rivkah glanced at Cazna, then took Azhure by the arm. “Azhure,” she said, “Azhure, who was it?”
Azhure looked at her, confused. What did she mean? She blinked, then realised that the women could not know. “Gorgrael,” she said.
“Oh Stars!” Rivkah cried. “Gorgrael? Why?” “Why do you think, Rivkah? For the company?” Azhure’s voice crackled across the hall and Cazna stepped backwards. Never had she seen Azhure so angry.
” Why, Rivkah? To trap either Axis or myself.” “Azhure, what will you do?”
Azhure stared at her. “I will go after him. I have to. How can I abandon Caelum to Gorgrael?” “But you just said that -”
“A trap? Yes, it surely is. But better that I be trapped than Axis.” Azhure paused. “Better I die than he.”
Then she turned on her heel and stalked from the hall.
The roof was quiet, bathed in cold moonlight. Yet Caelum’s terror still reverberated here. When Azhure closed her eyes she could feel his scream, see with his eyes as the shadow plummeted from the skies, recoil with him as Imibe’s hot blood splattered across his face.
She lowered her head into her hands and wept. What could she do? She had virtually exhausted her strength in her mad dash to Sigholt – could she now do the same to reach Gorgrael’s Ice Fortress? No. No, not that. Even with renewed strength and power it would still take her days, weeks, to reach the icy tundra.
And by then Caelum would surely be dead. If Gorgrael did not kill him, the boy would not be able to live so long with this degree of terror. Even now, even if she could rescue him this night, the experience would scar him for the rest of his life.
Azhure sank to her knees, then slowly collapsed so that she rested her forehead on the cold stone paving.
Caelum was dead. If not now, then soon. She cried until she could cry no more, then she slowly sat up, her face ravaged with grief. She sniffed, and tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“Here, let me do that for you.”
She jumped, even though she’d instantly recognised Adamon’s soft voice.
He knelt down beside her and held her close, cradling her against his warm body, wiping her face with soft, dry hands. “Adamon…”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
“Why does Caelum have to be the one to suffer like this? Why? Why not me or Axis?’
“Have not you and Axis suffered enough, Azhure? Why wish more on yourself?” “But Caeluml”
“Shush,” he crooned into her hair, holding her tight against him. “Caelum yet lives, and he is as strong in body and spirit as his parents.” “But -”
“I know, Azhure. But now you listen to me.” Adamon drew back so he could look her in the eyes. “You were right when you told Rivkah that Gorgrael wants to trap Axis. But he does not know you. He does not know the strength of your love, nor the strength of your determination. There remains the slight chance that you can rescue Caelum.”
Azhure seized on the hope he offered. “How? Can I storm Gorgrael’s Ice Fortress? Can I destroy him as I did Artor?”
Adamon risked a small smile, masking his own anxiety. “So many questions! Azhure, to rescue Caelum will take all your courage and cunning and then more. Gorgrael is not like Artor. He is dangerous . . . far more dangerous than the Plough god, and if he corners you, traps you, then the Prophecy will be torn apart and Axis will die.” “Why?”