Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 3 – StarMan

“And so you murdered Faraday.”

“Yes. If you want to put it that way.”

“You sacrificed her!”

“I fooled Gorgrael into believing that Faraday was your true Lover, and I saved your life, and Azhure’s life and the life of Tencendor. That’s all that really matters.”

“And Faraday died.”

“You are more than a pitiful fool, Axis.” WolfStar’s voice was low and very angry. “Why not tax me with Jorge’s death?

Or HoverEye’s? Or any one of the thousands you lost at Gorkenfort? Why not tax me with the loss of TimozePs innocence? Why not? Because of your own guilt that you stood there and watched Faraday die!”

“I had no choice,” Axis said flatly. “To try to save her would have been to condemn us both. She had to die.”

With those last words his mouth froze open, as if he could not believe that he had said them.

“Yes,” WolfStar said, and there was sympathy in his voice now. “She had to die, and in dying she saved you and Azhure and Tencendor, and she knew it\ That was the greatest gift I could give her in return for her life.”

He reached across and took Axis’ hand, and when he resumed his voice was very soft. “She knew it, Axis. And she knew there was no place left for her here.”

“Stars, WolfStar, what do I do now?”

Even WolfStar had to react to the naked pain in Axis’ voice. “You set your guilt to one side, Axis, and you carry out Faraday’s last wish and visit the Sacred Grove. Then you go home to Azhure and you rebuild Tencendor into the glory that is its by right and you learn and you grow and you take your proper place among the Nine, and one day I may return and share with you some of the other knowledges I gained beyond the Star Gate. I may even tell you of the worlds I found there…I think you would like that. And one day I will have to tell you of the dangers I found beyond the Star Gate.”

He stopped, and he squeezed Axis’ hand gently.

“Now, go collect Faraday’s gift.”

Then he rose in one fluid movement and strode away over the tundra.

That was the last Axis saw of him. A figure striding away into the distance.

As he watched, the figure assumed a black cloak that billowed out behind him, and he could hear faint snatches of some merry melody being whistled across the tundra.

Faraday’s Gift Axis ran the Song of Movement through his head, and transferred into the Sacred Grove. This was a deeply magical place, and Axis never harboured a single doubt that he would transfer there as easily as he could have transferred to Sigholt.

And so he did.

About him the white tundra flowed into glowing emerald, then that shifted and changed into the trees that lined the paths to the Grove. Axis did his best to still his nerves and strode as resolutely as he could along the path. What would he find? The Horned Ones had never liked him, nor had they ever trusted him – what would they think now? Their beloved Faraday had been torn to pieces before his eyes while he did nothing?

Perhaps that was why they had never liked him. Perhaps they had somehow known.

The path broadened and the trees drew back. Above his head the stars spun in their ever-lasting dance; the music of the Star Dance was potent here. Before him the Grove yawned in a great, silent circle.

Axis halted at its edge, uncertain. The Grove was very different, but why was not immediately obvious. Axis stood completely still, trying to understand.

The same power still swept it; he could feel it circling, watching.

(

It was the trees, he finally realised. On the two occasions he had been here previously, once in dream and once at Faraday’s behest to witness Raum’s transformation, he had felt the weight of eyes watching from the encircling trees.

Now the eyes were largely gone. Oh, some were still there, and Axis could feel them waiting . . . waiting for something, but they were only a fraction of the number that had watched before.

Axis felt more comfortable now that he understood the difference, and he stepped into the Grove itself. Why had Faraday wanted him to come here? What had Wolf Star meant…”gift”?

He stepped cautiously, unnerved by the silence. Where were the Horned Ones? Always before they had greeted him.

A movement in the grass caught his eye and he jerked to a halt.

Breeze, that’s all, he told himself, and took another step forward.

Except there was no breeze.

He stopped again, his heart pounding. He could sense that something very important was about to happen – he could feel the power of the Grove gathering – and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Eerie silence crashed about him.

Another step, then another, oh so cautious, and the grass wavered a little more.

Axis stopped again. His heart was beating so hard now that he could feel it leaping into his throat. The sense of imminence was almost overbearing, and Axis fought the urge to turn and run.

He looked carefully about. Nothing moved . . . except something in that patch of grass some fifteen paces away.

Why am I afraid? Have I not just defeated Gorgrael? Have I not just won} Then why am I so afraid? Afraid like a child lost in a dark wood on a stormy night?

Why? Because here he was the child lost in the dark wood.

Axis took several more steps and, when nothing happened, several more. He was closer to the patch of grass now, and he understood that whatever was going to happen would take place there.

Taking a deep breath, summoning all his courage, feeling the icy weight of fate, he stepped over to the gently waving grass.

A tiny naked baby lay there.

Axis wavered with shock, and his face blanched. For several heartbeats he did not breathe.

A tiny baby boy.

No! No! Not this!

He trembled, and his shaking grew so bad he had to sink to his knees.

Beside the baby.

The baby was asleep, and he moved his fists slowly, his fingers kneading, as if he dreamed of his mother. His head was covered with soft blond down, his body was plump and healthy.

He was so small that Axis knew he could not have been more than seven or eight weeks old, if that.

Axis reached down towards the baby, and found that his hand shook so violently he had to clench it into a fist before he could continue. Once he regained control of himself, he touched the baby’s head.

The baby woke with a soft cry, and Axis’ heart lurched over. The baby turned his head slowly, dreamily, looking for the hand that had woken him, and then he rolled his head completely over and looked at Axis with Faraday’s green eyes.

“Oh gods,” Axis muttered brokenly, and gathered the baby into his arms.

How could I have done this to her, on top of all the other hurts?

The baby nestled familiarly against his chest, as if he recognised him, and buried one tiny fist in the material of the golden tunic.

The baby’s blood called to him, sang to him, and Axis felt his own respond. There was no doubt that this was his son.

Why didn’t she tell me? Why? Why? Why?

Axis began to cry, slowly, silently, not wanting to upset the baby. No wonder Faraday had disappeared morning and evening to return to the Grove. She had come to feed their son, and to play with him.

Now she was dead, and her beautiful son would never more know his mother.

Axis bowed his head, and his tears fell on the baby, and he sat there for a very long time, rocking gently, grieving anew for Faraday.

“His name is Isfrael.”

Axis blinked, and wiped away some of his tears, but he did not immediately look up.

“She named him that because she thought it resembled a dream.”

“A dream?” Axis finally raised his eyes. Standing several paces away was a silver-pelted Horned One.

Utter hostility radiated from him.

“Isfrael,” Axis murmured. “It is a beautiful name. A dream?”

The hostility increased. “She would dream of a home and a happiness she knew she could never have. Sometimes, in those dreams, she dreamed of this name.”

Axis closed his eyes momentarily against the pain and the guilt.

“She told me to tell you to take him home to Azhure to raise. She said that Azhure would be a good mother to him.”

Axis turned his head away, unable to bear the Horned One’s stare any longer. Azhure had once feared that Axis would take Caelum from her and give him to Faraday to raise. What ultimate irony. Now Azhure would raise Faraday’s son.