Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 3 – StarMan

Sometimes Rivkah and Magariz and their son came to stay with them. Magariz had built – and continued to expand – a new town in the fertile plains bounded by the Ichtar and Azle rivers. Severin had taken over from the ruined Hsingard and the rebuilt Jervois Landing as the main town of Ichtar, and his

mother and Magariz had built themselves a fine palace on a hill overlooking the town.

Whatever reservations Axis had entertained about Rivkah’s son had now mostly disappeared. Zared had inherited his mother’s wit and courage and his father’s dark good looks and sense of loyalty, and Axis found unexpected delight in his younger half-brother. This time, he hoped, he would enjoy the companionship of a brother rather than suffer his hatred and rivalry.

Azhure’s father had never reappeared. No-one knew where he had gone – even Azhure professed no knowledge – and Axis did not care if WolfStar never appeared again. Perhaps he had stepped back through the Star Gate, returned to whatever eternity he should have enjoyed in the first instance. Perhaps. And perhaps he plotted mischief elsewhere.

But Axis did not worry about WolfStar. If he ever turned up, Axis would deal with him then.

Axis had never again uncovered the Rainbow Sceptre since that dreadful day in Gorgrael’s chamber. The rag torn from Faraday’s gown still covered it, and the Sceptre had been placed in a secret chamber in Sigholt. Eventually, Axis knew, he would have to study it, explore the traces and reminders of the Sentinels he knew still inhabited it, but that time was not yet upon him.

The only cloud in Axis’ otherwise sunny existence was cast by the knowledge that one day the Avar would lay claim to his youngest son.

The Avar mostly remained in the Avarinheim, although some Clans spent time walking the paths of Minstrelsea. They would wait until Isfrael grew to his majority, they said, wait until Faraday’s son took his place as their Mage-King, before they would move south in significant numbers.

Axis continued to chat with Isfrael about StarDrifter’s visit, but the deeper they walked into the forest the more unsettled Axis grew. Each year he found these walks into Minstrelsea with IsfraeHncreasingly disturbing. Within a few years he knew the Avar would request that Isfrael come live with them, to learn their ways and the magic of the trees – and Axis did not know if he could bear to lose Faraday’s son as well as Faraday.

Axis glanced at Isfrael. He was a fey child, and as he grew older Axis could see more of Faraday in him. Especially after their twice-annual visit to Niah’s Grove.

They were close now, and Axis and Isfrael fell silent. Even the sounds of the forest were muted, and birds watched still and silent instead of fluttering gaily about the canopy.

There. Ahead. As she always waited for them.

Shra.

She must be fifteen or sixteen now, Axis thought as they approached. She had the dark eyes and hair of her people, and the fine-boned fragility of all Avar women, but was unusually tall and fair-skinned for her race. She commanded immense respect from among the Avar, where she held sway as the senior Bane, as from both Axis and Isfrael. She exuded power, but it was not the threatening power that Axis and Azhure had felt from previous Avar Banes. It was enormously peaceful; Shra was always surrounded by a sense of serenity so profound that Axis sometimes felt like an awkward stable-boy before her.

“Welcome, Axis,” she said, and held his hands briefly as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Isfrael.” She smiled, and took the boy’s face between her own. “You grow another handspan every time I see you.” She bent down and brushed his cheeks with her lips.

The boy blushed with pleasure. He looked forward to seeing Shra almost as much as he did his mother. He knew of his heritage, knew that one day he’d live among the Avar, and he knew that it bothered his father. But if all the Avar were as beautiful as Shra, then Isfrael knew he would love living with them.

Shra dropped her hands and glanced at Axis. “You must wait at the edge of the grove.”

“I know that,” Axis said roughly. Always he waited, unwanted, unwelcome, at the edge – why did Shra need to remind him of it yet again?

She nodded, then she took Isfrael’s hand and led him forward.

They always came to Niah’s Grove. Axis was not too sure why . . . why Faraday-that-had-been would feel drawn to the site where Niah lay buried. The grove stood as it had since the day Faraday had planted it out; the nine trees ringed it, their branches interlocked, yet bright tendrils of sunshine still dappled the grove itself. Moonwildflowers, Azhure’s mark, grew in a thick ring in the centre of the grove, and were scattered thinly over most of the grassy clearing.

Shra led Isfrael to the ring of violet flowers, and motioned him to sit inside it. She bent down and talked with him softly for several minutes, then she stood and walked to the far side of the grove. At its edge she paused and looked back, first to Isfrael sitting patiently among the flowers, then briefly to Axis.

Then she turned and was swallowed by the shadows.

They waited, Axis under the ring of surrounding trees, Isfrael in the central circle of flowers. Sometimes they waited only minutes, sometimes two or three hours. But whatever the time, Isfrael always waited patiently, never fidgeting, never speaking. Even as a baby barely able to crawl, when Axis had first brought him here, Isfrael had been patient.

Today she appeared almost immediately.

As always, her appearance was heralded by the White Stag.

Axis, startled, heard a twig snap behind him. The White Stag had walked to within a pace or two of him, his body tense, his dark eyes alert.

He trembled, but he allowed Axis to reach out and touch his shoulder briefly.

Greetings, Raum.

Greetings, Axis StarMan. You are well?

Very well. And you?

The Stag did not reply, and Axis was not interested in trying to continue the conversation. Both turned to look into the grove.

Isfrael sat tense and excited now, knowing his mother was not far away. His eyes darted about the trees, wondering from behind which one she would emerge.

In the end, stunningly, she stepped out from the White Stag’s shadow.

Axis jumped, his heart pounding. Never before had she come this close to him. Stars, but if he stepped forward and reached out he would be able to touch her!

But he stayed still, although the effort cost him dearly. He was terrified that if he touched her she would disappear.

She stared at him briefly, her dark eyes startled, her head and neck tense, the muscles along her back quivering, then, with a single bound, she leaped into the grove and stepped lightly, gracefully, over to her son.

Isfrael gave a low cry of delight and reached out his arms, although he did not rise.

The doe walked up to him and lowered her head, nuzzling the boy’s face and neck.

Isfrael rubbed her neck and shoulders, burying his fingers within her deep red pelt, tears running down his face. He was silent, as he always was, but Axis knew that on some deep level he communicated with his mother.

After a few minutes the doe folded her legs and sank down beside the boy, and they sat for over an hour, Isfrael with his arms about the doe’s neck, she rubbing her cheek against his.

They were surrounded by dancing beams of sunlight, and multi-coloured butterflies fluttered about them, but the forest birds kept reverentially quiet, and the usually constant undertone of Tree Song had completely faded. The forest wrapped itself about them, still and silent.

Axis’ eyes filled with tears. The sight never failed to move him deeply, and he yearned, as he always did, to join his son and Faraday-that-had-been in the centre of the grove.

But she did not want him there. She only wanted her son. Whatever love she had once borne him had either gone or been buried so deep that it might as well never have been.

She ran unfettered now, unfettered by pain or betrayal . . . or by her love for Axis.

When she rose Axis expected her to bound off into the forest as she always did.

But this day she did not.

Trembling so badly Axis thought her fragile legs would fold on her, the doe stepped back towards where he stood with the White Stag.

Behind him the Stag tensed . . . Axis could feel the entire forest tense.

She halted a pace away from him, and Axis realised he was trembling himself. Slowly, achingiy slowly, Axis raised a hand.

Her head wavered, and her dark eyes widened in alarm.