Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 3 – StarMan

“I have to help!” Axis said, appalled, but Shra hauled at his hand as he stepped forward.

“You must not touch them!” she hissed. “Let them alone, Axis,” she continued more gently, “for they know what they do.”

Axis halted, staring at the horror before him, then he dragged his gaze around to Faraday. “Did you know?” he whispered.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes not leaving the group before them. “No. I…I knew that they were here – they arrived unseen several hours ago and disappeared into the stone circle – but I did not realise …”

Axis swallowed and looked back at the Sentinels. Their eyes glittered strangely in the darkness. Golden from Ogden and Veremund, sapphire from Yr, ruby from Zeherah. Glittered with jewel-bright colours.

“Power has corrupted the bright eyes’ hearts,” Axis whispered to himself, understanding at last.

Then Jack emerged. He walked more upright than the others had, but then he had the staff to support him. Otherwise, Axis was sure, he would have crawled like Zeherah. He struggled forward, stopping to catch his breath where the other four Sentinels rested, then he came forward a few more steps.

“Hail, StarMan,” he rasped, and Axis Inclined his head, unable to answer.

“We have come a long way,” Jack said, and then, unaccountably, he laughed.

It was a horrible sound, feverish and cackling, and Axis could not stop himself from wincing. “What has happened to you?”

“Happened?” Jack’s laughter stopped as suddenly as it had begun. “Happened? Why, StarMan, we but follow the Prophecy. Do you not need your Rainbow Sceptre?”

“The Prophecy tells me so, yes.”

“Yes, the Prophecy tells you that you must wield it against the Destroyer. Well, this is Fire-Night, and this Fire-Night will see the construction of your Sceptre.”

“I have been told that you will use the power of the ancient Star Gods who crashed and burned the first Fire-Night,” Axis said. “Is that what has corrupted you?”

“Yes.” Jack paused, his head drooping, obviously debating within himself whether to tell Axis anything else. “StarMan, perhaps I should not tell you this, but I will. I do not want the knowledge to die with us.”

To one side Faraday wiped her eyes. She did not want the Sentinels’ last view of her to be of tears. She remembered how they had once told her on the Ancient Barrows that no-one would have to sacrifice more than they. Well, here stood their sacrifice revealed for all to see . . . and yet Faraday wondered if they were as all-seeing as they sometimes had pretended, or if there was yet a greater sacrifice to be made.

“StarMan.” Jack gripped his staff still harder and tottered another step forwards. “Be wary of what lies in the depths of the Sacred Lakes. The ancient gods had power that we can only dimly comprehend, which you – yes, even you – should be wary of. Treat the Lakes with respect, Axis, and never think to go exploring.”

If what stood before him was the inevitable result of such explorations, then Axis had no wish to go exploring at all. He nodded.

“Good. Now, Axis, you must not interfere with what we do. This will be our ultimate gift to you . . . and we give it willingly and with love. After . . . after we have finished, then it will be the Avar’s task to finish crafting the Sceptre for you.”

Jack looked at Faraday. “Lovely lady, we wish you well in all that you do. You …” his voice broke, and Jack had to struggle to master it. “You have done so well, and we are so proud of you. Yours has been the most difficult and the most lonely task of all. Remember all that the Mother has taught you, lovely lady, and may you one day find the love and the peace that you deserve.”

Faraday could hold herself no longer, and she broke down into great sobs. Axis put his arm about her, and Faraday leaned against him, but she stretched out a trembling hand towards the Sentinels. “I am sorry for all that I said to you in Carlon,” she sobbed. “Forgive me. I did not understand.”

Now Jack appeared close to tears, and his emerald eyes dimmed. “We have always loved you,” he said, then he turned away. “And we always will.”

Faraday almost collapsed, and Axis had to wrap both his arms about her to keep her from falling. Shra whispered something in Faraday’s ear, and she nodded, took a deep breath, and stood upright again.

“I’m all right,” she muttered and, reluctantly, Axis let her go.

Jack had reached the other Sentinels, and now they sat down in a circle. Jack took his staff and, with the last of his strength, struck it into the ground so that it stood upright in the centre of their circle.

Then they took each other’s hands, bowed their heads, and . . .

“No/” Faraday screamed, and Axis seized her again, terrified she would dash to their side. “No/”

But the Sentinels did not hear her. As one they chanted, soft and sad, their voices infused with the music of wind and wave.

The staff burst into fire. It flared so bright that Axis had to shut his eyes and turn away. The next instant he felt a terrible heat sear his body and he dragged Faraday back eight or nine steps, shouting at Shra to shelter behind him.

When he found the courage to look back, the five Sentinels were pillars of fire surrounding the burning staff, and he looked away again; not because of the heat, but because he could not bear to watch their deaths.

It was only when he felt the heat die down that Axis turned around. Staff and Sentinels had disappeared, and in their place bright coals were heaped in a glowing pyramid. Occasional spurts of flame shot out, sometimes golden, sometimes ruby, sometimes sapphire or emerald.

The coals hummed, not with music but with power, and Axis stared, unable to look away. Gradually his arms loosened about Faraday and she stood upright, her tears gone now, her face ravaged with grief.

The coals popped and hummed, and very, very gradually their heat dissipated, and the flames lessened. The sense of power about them faded.

Eventually Axis walked over to the coals. The pyramid had crumbled into a heap of blackened ash, still glowing here and there, but cooling rapidly in the night air.

Without knowing why he did it Axis sifted about the ash with a booted foot.

He turned over a pile of ash in the centre of the heap and then stilled.

Glowing in what had been the very centre of the pyramid was the head of Jack’s staff. Previously it had been tarnished, now it glowed bright silver. It was decorated with patterns of swirling lines, and into its body were set five gems – two golden, one sapphire, one ruby and one emerald.

Axis bent down and picked it up. It was cool to his fingers, and about the size of a man’s clenched fist, but far heavier.

It was the head of the Rainbow Sceptre.

He shifted it in his hands, and its gems sent multicoloured rays of light flaring about the grove. The rays hummed with strange power. And in his mind Axis could hear the Sentinels laughing; low and pleasant, as if they had heard some particularly fine jest.

Axis folded his hands about the head of the Sceptre and the light died. He took a deep breath and looked up. Every eye in the grove was fixed on him. What now?

“Now,” Shra said matter-of-factly, “we will give you a rod with which to wield the gaudy toy you hold in your hands.”

She walked past Faraday, past Axis, and into the circle of stone. Beyond the arches she paused. “Father, will you come with me? I shall need your height. And you too, Axis.” She considered a moment. “Faraday, come, for you shall sing to the Earth Tree.”

Grindle joined Axis and Faraday and they stepped into the circle of stone. Shra had walked over to the trunk of the Earth Tree, and they joined her there.

“Faraday,” Shra said, “will you sing to the Earth Tree?”

Sing what? Faraday thought distractedly. She had only ever sung to the Earth Tree once, and then she’d had StarDrifter to guide her. Sing what? She opened her mouth – and saw that the other three were staring at her, and so she sang the first thing that came into her head, the cradle song that Goodwife Renkin had sung to the seedlings. At first she only hummed the tune, but then she introduced words that suddenly came to her, and she sang of the sacrifice of the Sentinels and of the creation of the head of the Sceptre. She sang of the need for a rod with which to wield it and then, inspired, she sang of the need for the power of the ancient gods – represented in the head of the Sceptre – to be welded with the power of the earth and the trees. Artor had been crippled and defeated using a similar alliance; so too would Gorgrael’s dark power be overcome.