Axis lay, every nerve afire, his ears straining. “Belial?”
But his only answer was a soft footfall. Too soft for Belial. Someone else, then. Perhaps Belial could not face another shift minding this charred corpse and had sent some anonymous soldier. Axis did not blame him. Even friendship must have its limits.
There was the flare of a match.
“No,” Axis croaked. “Douse the lamp.” He had ordered that no-one light a lamp in his presence – he did not need to endure the horrified breaths every time someone caught a good look at him. But he heard the clink as the lamp glass was shifted, then replaced, and could almost feel the warm glow as whoever it was stood closer to the bed, lamp held high. Did they now disobey him, as well as recoil from him?
Axis twisted in the bed, but his body was now so useless that he could do nothing about this silent inspection. “Put it out!” he rasped. “Put it out!”
Then he caught the scent of the person, and his entire body stilled. So warm, so fragrant, and what was left of his hands twitched, as if he could feel her skin beneath his fingers.
“Azhure,” he whispered, “Azhure…please . . . gol Please go! Don’t see me like this! Please…please . . . GO/”
Belial heard Axis scream and took a step forward.
Then a hand fell on his shoulder. “No, Belial, good man. Leave them.”
Belial turned. A man, a beautiful man, stood behind him, his hair dark and curling about his shoulders. He was clad only in the lightest clothes, as if it was but a balmy summer’s day. “Who are you?” Belial said.
And yet, strangely, he felt no fear, nor anger.
The man indicated the fire. “Shall we sit, Belial? It will be a long night, I think.”
“Very well.” But as they sat themselves before the fire Belial turned to the man, his face puzzled. “Who are you?”
“My name is unimportant, Belial.”
“Are you a friend of Axis’?”
The man’s eyes drifted towards the tent. “Yes. Yes, I am. A friend of both Axis and Azhure’s.”
Still she did not speak.
He heard her put the lamp down on the stool by the bed,
and then, horrifyingly, he felt her reach for the blankets and pull them away from his body.
“No!” he shouted again, and began to cry, his arms twitching as they tried uselessly to cover the ruin of his flesh. Why did she have to see him like this? Why? Damn Belial for sending for her!
Then he heard the rustle of fine material and the twitching of his arms slowed. What was she doing? Why wouldn’t she speak to him? Why wouldn’t she voice her horror? Her rejection?
There was movement in the air, and he heard the crumple of material fall to the ground.
Then she leaned close. “Axis,” she whispered so low he almost did not hear it. “Axis,” and the word was full of love. “Axis,” and she lay down beside him, and wrapped him in her soft, warm flesh.
He thought he would never be able to endure the agony as his skin lifted and tore where she rubbed against him. He arched his back, and opened his mouth to scream. Why? Why? But then her movement ceased, and she lay warm and heavy and replete along his side, as if they had just made love, and her flesh no longer tortured, but eased him.
For the first time in many interminable days he could feel warmth suffuse his body.
She lifted her face to his and softly kissed what was left of his cheek, his nose, then his mouth.
“Help me to die,” he whispered. “Please.”
A cheerful woman, as beautiful as the man, now joined them. Her filmy gown made Belial blush, but politely she pretended not to notice, and gave him her hand to kiss.
“My husband is here already,” she said, “and I am late. Well, ’tis ever the way.”
She turned to the man. “Are they inside?” and Belial heard the tension in her voice.
Her husband nodded.
The woman turned back to Belial. “Then we must wait. Perhaps we can pass the time with some conversation. Belial, know that we know you.”
It was a strange thing to say, and Belial stared at her.
She smiled, and Belial saw some of the same wildness about her eyes that he had seen about Azhure’s. He tensed. Who were they?
The man replied quickly, sharply. “Friends, Belial. Nothing else matters.”
The woman patted him on the arm. “Belial, whatever happens tonight, do not fear. Will you promise me that?”
Belial nodded. “I have seen too many strange things over the past few years, my lady, to jump at shadows now.”
“You are a rock, Belial.”
“Azhure,” he whispered, evading her mouth, “what are you doing here?”
He felt her lips smile against his face, and he wondered that she could bear it. “A strange thing to ask a wife, beloved, when she slips into her husband’s bed and seeks to please him with her kisses.”
He tried to twist his face away, tried to pull away from her jest, but the bed was narrow, and there was no escaping her persistence. “Azhure,” he asked again, “help me to die.”
“No.”
“What point is there to life like this?” he shouted, startling her enough that she pulled back.
“Axis,” she said mildly. “I will show you the way.” “To death?”
“The GateKeeper has already refused you, beloved. Forever, we vowed, and forever it is.”
Axis lay still and tried to think, tried to ignore her soft warmth. He had never told Azhure about the GateKeeper. “How do you know?” he asked eventually. Had the GateKeeper
been so entertained by his desperate pleas that she had wafted into the OverWorld to share her amusement with his wife?
Azhure smoothed her hand over his head, and tried to remember how soft his hair had been. “I met her, beloved, on the Isle of Mist and Memory.”
He was silent, bitter. Why was she here? What could she do?
“The Star Dance did this to you.”
She felt him relax slightly under her hands.
“Yes. Azhure, there was no other way! The Gryphon .., the Gryphon…they were blackening the sky, and stealing my army in their talons …”
“Shush. I know. Belial told me what you did.”
“Azhure, I have lost touch with all my power! I never thought that life could be so barren.” He paused. “I am useless!”
“Axis -”
“Azhure, pray you do not have to feel what I felt that day. The power of the entire Star Dance is a terrible thing. Terrible …” His voice drifted off, and Azhure kissed his mouth again.
“Yes, the power is a dreadful thing, especially if you misuse it.”
Suddenly, he was angry. “And what would you have done,
had you been there in my place?”
“I would have watched my army die about me, because I would not have had the courage to do what you did. Now, Axis,” her voice became practical, almost brusque, “we must fix this.” “Oh, yes? And how, pray tell, do you intend to do that?” “By letting the entire power of the Star Dance consume us,
my darling.”
“No/” and she had to wrap her arms tight about him to stop him rolling out of the bed in his terror. “NO/”
“Ah, here you are!”
Belial blinked as the woman stood, and welcomed five more strangers to the fire. Two more women and three men joined them, all hopelessly lovely, all clad only in the flimsiest attire.
All of them kissed Belial on the mouth, even the men — an extraordinary liberty he thought, stunned, as the final man drew back – then they greeted the husband and wife and sat down about the fire. The Alaunt slowly crept forth from the shadows and lay at their sides and backs, and the seven smiled and patted the hounds, murmuring their names.
Belial sank back down again, and one of the men, younger than the first and with flaming hair, touched Belial briefly on the arm. “You must excuse us, Belial, disturbing you like this. But-”
“But we have come to witness,” one of the women said, her face full of life, “and we would that you witness with us.”
“Thank you,” Belial said, although he did not know why he said it. “It is an honour to witness with you.”
“No,” the first man said very quietly. “We are honoured that we may witness with you, Belial.”
And then, as Axis screamed, they all turned their eyes back to the tent.
“NO/”
“Axis-”
“No! Azhure, do you know what you suggest?”
“Yes,” she replied calmly, “yes, I do.”
He wished he could twist away from her, from her touch, her mad suggestion. “It would kill me.”
“I thought that was what you wanted!” she snapped.