themselves.
Taking a deep breath, summoning her not inconsiderable courage, Venetia walked to the
door and flung it open.
And then immediately enveloped the woman standing outside in a fierce embrace.
“Ravenna!”
Ravenna, her daughter, lost years ago to the seductive wiles of the Lord of Dreams.
Not lost, not totally, for Ravenna and Venetia still remained aware of each other, and on
very rare occasions spent brief moments together within the Land of Dreams. But this was the
first time in five years that Venetia had held a flesh-and-blood daughter in her arms, and she was
not about to let her go too quickly.
Ravenna laughed, hugging her mother back.
Eventually Venetia stood back, her eyes shining. “How you”ve grown!” she said. “Your
power, as well as your beauty. How could I have produced such a daughter?”
“I will never be the woman you are, Venetia,” Ravenna said. “Look, I have brought
people with me who need aid. Can you—”
“Of course,” Venetia said, standing back slightly so she could see who was with her
daughter.
She tensed. “Maximilian Persimius,” she said softly. Venetia had never met Maximilian,
but she knew him instinctively.
Venetia looked at her daughter, her eyes full of questions.
“There are many questions to be answered,” Ravenna said, “and many tales to be told this
night, I think. But they need to be spoken in some comfort and warmth. Maximilian is injured,
and at least one other member of our group has been through extremity over the past few hours.
May we come in?”
StarDrifter had been through many experiences in his vast lifetime, but he thought he”d
never enjoyed anything so much as the wonder of being able to strip off his sodden clothes, wrap
himself in a blanket, sit before a fire, and sip some of the wonderful ale the marsh witch-woman, Venetia, handed him.
Everything that had happened to him from the moment he”d been tossed overboard
seemed dreamlike: the experience in the sea with the Weeper; meeting with a man who appeared
to be the King of Escator, Maximilian Persimius (StarDrifter had heard of him, yes, but he”d
never paid the story much attention); discovering Axis had apparently made off with
Maximilian”s wife (StarDrifter had to suppress a grin every time he thought about that. Axis had
not changed, it appeared); and, finally, being escorted by one witch-woman to the home of
another, deep in the marshlands.
From the beach Ravenna and Maximilian had helped StarDrifter (who had been given the
Weeper to carry) up a hill to where two men waited with horses, and then Ravenna and Serge
had led the others, riding the horses, deep into the marshes to Ravenna”s mother”s house.
Then there was apparently much discussion and catching up to be done, but all
StarDrifter could think about was the wonderful warmth of the fire, the delicious ale, the food
that Venetia was spreading over the table, and the promise later of a bed…if bed this ramshackle
establishment could provide.
The Weeper lay under his stool. It had been remarkably quiet ever since they”d been
washed ashore.
Venetia kept casting him uncertain, and decidedly cool, glances, but StarDrifter had no
idea why, nor did he particularly care. He could worry tomorrow about where he might go, and
what he might do.
Tonight he was warm, and, he smiled around his mug of ale, he was free of the damned
Ba”al”uz.
Eventually Venetia handed out the food as well—thick sausage encased in warm, fresh
bread, and, as people ate, Maximilian Persimius began to tell his tale in between mouthfuls.
It entranced even StarDrifter. Tales of indifferent love and of wives lost were
commonplace enough, but who this wife was (a priestess, perhaps, of an order that intrigued
even someone as world-weary as StarDrifter) and the powers that Maximilian hinted she may
possess, made this far more interesting.
“And you say my son, Axis, stole her from you?” StarDrifter eventually said, unable to
keep quiet any longer.
Maximilian turned from his seat at the table to regard StarDrifter coolly. “He has
possession of her now,” Maximilian said, “but Ishbel was stolen by a band of men led by a man
called Ba”al”uz—”
“Ah,” said StarDrifter.
“Ah, indeed,” said Maximilian, now regarding StarDrifter very keenly indeed. “I think
perhaps we have heard enough of my sad tale. StarDrifter, perhaps you might enlighten us as to
why you are here, washed up on the shores of Escator with that bronze statue.”
Maximilian”s eyes slipped to where the Weeper lay almost hidden beneath StarDrifter”s
stool.
“The Weeper is a bronze deity,” said StarDrifter, “infused with the soul of a man I am
trying to release. Let me explain…”
As clearly and succinctly as he could, StarDrifter related what had happened to him over
the past few weeks: his meeting with Ba”al”uz, his seduction of Salome, the theft of the Weeper,
and the adventures that led him to this hut this night.
He mentioned Salome only briefly, and only as the woman he”d needed to seduce in
order to win the Weeper, but as soon as he”d stopped, Venetia leaned forward, interrupting Maximilian, who had begun to ask StarDrifter a question.
“This woman, Salome,” Venetia said. “She is in trouble, I know it.”
StarDrifter looked uncomfortable. “The Coroleans will be greatly angered at the loss of
the Weeper,” he said. “No doubt they have imprisoned Salome and—”
“She has been raped and brutalized,” said Venetia flatly. “Treated with a contempt that is
unimaginable. I have felt this, intimated it, over the past few days. It has unsettled me greatly.
Now, as you have spoken, what has happened has clarified in my mind. Why, StarDrifter? Why
has she been so cruelly treated? It is connected with you, somehow.”
StarDrifter looked down at his hands, twiddling the empty mug of ale between them.
“Salome is almost pure Icarii,” he said. “I have no idea from where she got the blood, but
she has spent her life trying to hide her origins. She was a powerful member of the Forty-four
Hundred First Families, and as a caste they allow no „new” blood. Everyone must trace their
ancestry back to an ancient group of families in pure and untainted line, or be cast from the First.
Salome held the most powerful position within Coroleas, save for the throne itself…and she held
it by lie and deceit. Once that lie and deceit was discovered…then Salome would have suffered
for it.”
“How was it discovered, StarDrifter?” Venetia asked.
StarDrifter raised his eyes to hers. “I told Ba”al”uz of her Icarii blood, and once we had
left Coroleas he told me he”d informed a member of the emperor”s court of the fact. Salome
would have been seized within hours.”
Venetia gave a slight nod. “You”re speaking the truth. I can sense it, but even so…”
“I did not like the woman,” StarDrifter said. “She had done things in her life that I abhor.
But I would not have wished this on her. Her Icarii blood was no fault of hers.”
“She may not see it so,” Venetia said softly. Then she straightened, and looked around
the table. “There is so much we need to discuss, but it is late. I need to look at Maximilian”s
shoulder, and we all need to get some rest. Perhaps—”
The Weeper sighed, stopping Venetia midsentence.
Then it gave a soft whimper.
StarDrifter put his mug on the floor, and lifted the Weeper into his lap.
“It seems to like me,” StarDrifter said. “It would never go to Ba”al”uz, and when—”
The Weeper whimpered again, this time with such longing that tears sprang into
StarDrifter”s eyes.
“He wants to go to you now,” StarDrifter said, and lifted the Weeper into Maximilian”s
arms. “Now you must carry him on his journey.”
CHAPTER NINE
Crowhurst, the Far North
Crowhurst was a stunning castle, particularly given its position in the frozen northern
wastes. Fashioned out of a pale turquoise rock, its battlements and edges coated in a dazzling
white, it stood out from the snow-covered tundra like a jewel.
Lister had created it twenty years ago, using powerful magic that had left him tired for
many months afterward, but even so, even given its stunning beauty, Lister knew it was but a
pale imitation of the memory he had used to fashion it.
It was not Elcho Falling, as desperately as it tried.
For months now Skraelings had been gathering at its base. They drifted in from even
farther north in small groups, their gray, wraithlike forms buffeted by the winds that cut across
the tundra day and night, their huge silver eyes mournful, their tooth-ridden mouths hanging
agape in longing and hunger.
They gathered at Crowhurst because it formed a convenient beacon for them—even the
Skraelings thought it very pretty—and because the man inside was kind to them, and spoke soft
words to them, and (far more important) fed them. He was also allied with the Lealfast, with