Sara Douglass. The Twisted Citadel. DarkGlass Mountain: Book Two

She jumped a little, surprised at being addressed. “Yes?”

“You have not been corrupted by a lifetime of Icarii blindness,” Axis said. “Maybe you

will understand. What has StarDrifter told you of the Star Dance?”

She glanced at her husband, then looked back to Axis. “The Star Dance is the music

made by the stars as they weave their way through the heavens.”

“Yes,” said Axis. “Good stock answer. Carry on.”

Salome gave him a black look, but continued. “The music made by the stars filtered

through the Star Gate—”

“Tell me, Salome,” Axis said, “was that the only way to see the stars, through the Star

Gate?”

She sent StarDrifter another glance. “Well, no, we can see them in the night sky. But I

have been told that the stars in the night sky are but a pale reflection of what was visible through

the Star Gate.”

Axis sat and waited, regarding Salome steadily, and StarDrifter turned away from his son

and stared at Salome also.

She narrowed her eyes, thinking. “The stars in the night sky are but a pale reflection of

what you could see through the Star Gate…but they are still there.”

Axis” mouth curved in a small smile.

“Ergo,” she said, “the Star Dance is still here, too, but a paler reflection of what you

could once hear via the Star Gate.”

Now Axis was grinning, and looked between his father and Salome. “The Star Dance is

still here. It falls to earth gently about us, day and night. It drifts down from the heavens. It isn”t as concentrated nor as loud as what we heard via the Star Gate, but it is still around us. We just need to open our senses to it. Listen, when I watched the Lealfast do their pretty snowflake thing

in the sky above Maximilian, my mind was screaming at me to make some connection, and I just

couldn”t.”

“They were making patterns,” said Salome.

“Yes,” said Axis. “They were making patterns. And as that thought came into my head I

remembered what Orr had told me about the waterways making patterns so the Charonites could

manipulate the Star Dance…and suddenly it just clicked.”

“What just clicked? ” StarDrifter said.

“It would have been better to do this during the day,” said Axis, “as our sight would be

clearer then, but there is a light snow falling and it will do better than nothing.” He stood, and

picked up a lamp. “Come with me. Oh, and toss on some clothes. It will be cold outside.”

StarDrifter cursed, and grabbed at his breeches.

Axis led StarDrifter and Salome outside and held up the lamp. “The Star Dance is drifting

down gently from the heavens,” he said. “Look at the pattern of the snowflakes as they fall.”

StarDrifter and Salome stared, their brows furrowed.

“Would it help,” Axis said softly, “if I said that you can see music as well as hear it? That

you can write music, and understand it? That the—”

“Star Dance is twisting the snow as it falls!” said StarDrifter. “The twists and cadences of

the snow as it falls show us the music of the Star—”

He stopped, his face going completely blank.

Axis watched him, then saw the instant the Star Dance filled his father”s consciousness.

StarDrifter”s entire body sagged and his eyes filled with tears.

“Everything about us is affected to some extent by the gentle fall of the Star Dance from

the heavens,” Axis said. “Everything. All we have to do is open our eyes to it. The motes of dust

dancing in the air, the tilt of a bird”s wing in the sky, the clouds as they bubble and tumble across

the sky. And once you can see it, once you understand that the Star Dance is all about us—albeit in a more subtle form than we were used to hearing it previously—then the music fills our souls

again. Salome, can you feel it? See it?”

“Yes,” she said, and gave Axis a lovely smile, “I think that I can. You know, I used to

hear this as a child, and then I thought it a figment of my imagination. It used to fill my dreams

at night.”

They stood in silence for several long minutes, wonder transfixing Salome”s face,

thankfulness StarDrifter”s.

“But what I don”t understand,” Salome said eventually to Axis, “is that if the Star Dance

was all about you anyway, why could the Icarii Enchanters not use it anymore when the Star

Gate was destroyed?”

“Because we were so blind,” said StarDrifter. “Because we were so used to hearing the

harmony of sound from the Star Gate that we were utterly blinded to the subtlety of this gentler

music. Because it takes, on average, a thousand years for the damned Icarii to comprehend the

easiest of secrets!”

Axis looked at his father and laughed, the sound one of pure joy.

They stayed up most of the night, sitting in StarDrifter and Salome”s tent, laughing with

their joy and playing with the Star Dance. Axis and StarDrifter found their control of the music

weaker than it had been when they”d heard the full thunder of it through the Star Gate, but even

in the few hours that they had toyed with the Star Dance, they felt their use of it becoming

firmer.

Toward dawn there came a murmur at the tent flap. It was StarHeaven, one of the Icarii

who had arrived the day Maximilian and Ishbel had talked atop the hill.

“StarMan?” she said as she entered. “Talon? What is happening? Myself and several

other Enchanters,” she indicated that they waited outside, “have felt as if…as if…”

“The Star Dance has been rediscovered,” said Axis. “Come in, StarHeaven, and your

fellows, too, and rediscover yourselves.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

On the Road to Serpent’s Nest

The morning was very cold. The snow had ceased falling before dawn, and now a heavy

frost lay over everything in camp. Winter was having its final, cruel stab before spring”s warmer

breezes.

Despite the cold, everyone in camp was moving. Tents collapsed ungracefully into the

snow, sending puffs of white powder about knees and hips; horses moved restlessly as saddles

were thrown across their backs; cooks shouted irritably as hooves and boots kicked dirty snow

into their fires.

Maximilian was breaking camp and making for Elcho Falling.

Ishbel, tired after a restless night of little sleep, made her way carefully through the ranks,

Madarin trailing a few steps behind her. She was looking for Isaiah, and found him, eventually,

standing with Eleanon and Bingaleal.

“Isaiah,” she said, “may I have a brief word?”

The Lealfast bowed, then faded—quite literally—away.

Ishbel rubbed her hands together, trying to restore some circulation into them. “Isaiah, be

careful. Please.”

“I will, Ishbel. I didn”t think you would be so concerned.”

“Well, I am. You can consider it a triumph.”

He tilted her chin up with a gentle finger. “I need to get back to my river, Ishbel. I cannot

stay away from it too long.”

“I know. Be careful.”

“You and your lord must come visit me one day.”

Ishbel ignored the “your lord” for the moment. “You”re not coming back?”

“My work here is done. My work in Isembaard awaits.”

“Isaiah, you don”t know what awaits you there!”

“I have a good idea. And I will be careful. Ishbel…look after that goblet. Listen to it. And

listen to your heart.”

Then he leant down to her, kissed her softly, and was gone.

Eleanon and Bingaleal stood apart, unseen in their magical state, watching Isaiah and

Ishbel.

“I wish you luck in Isembaard, brother,” Eleanon said.

Bingaleal gave a nod. “I hope I may discover hopeful news. The more I hear about

Maximilian, and the more I talk with him, the more I feel that the One may offer us a better

pathway. Eleanon…”

“Yes?”

“It might be worth considering fooling Maximilian and Axis into thinking we are poor

fighters. It might do us good if they underestimate us.”

“And our powers. They only know of our command of the Star Dance. Not of…”

“Not of the power we learned from the Magi,” said Bingaleal. “Not of the power of the

One.”

He stopped and exchanged a small, secretive smile with Eleanon.

“Then they shall think us useless,” said Eleanon. “I will talk to Inardle about this, too,

and make certain she tells Axis only what we want him—and Maximilian—to know. You are

right. It is best for us, and best for our hopes, if they underestimate us completely.”

Isaiah walked to a snowy space some distance from the bustling encampment. One of the

Lealfast stood there, waiting for him.

Bingaleal, Isaiah”s erstwhile assassin.

About him drifted clouds and banners of snow, and from the corner of his eye Isaiah

could see a glimmer of faces and wings and hands within—the Lealfast who were to accompany

them south.

“Off to save Isembaard, then,” said Bingaleal.

“What we can of it,” Isaiah said. He studied the Lealfast, trying to see past the exterior

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