Sinner by Sara Douglass. Book One of The Wayfarer Redemption

Appalled and hurt rather than angry, Drago stared at her. “No, no…”

There was a quiet movement at his shoulder. The doe had crept up to them, and was now standing a pace away from the sack, staring at it.

She was trembling almost uncontrollably. Slowly she raised her great eyes from the sack and stared at Drago.

And he understood with that look that she knew what it contained.

“The girlie,” the Goodwife said gently to the doe. “She needs your help.”

For a heartbeat longer the doe continued to stare at Drago, then she broke the stare and edged about him to Zenith. She lowered her head and nuzzled the woman’s face with her nose, then sank gracefully down at her head.

Drago could not take his eyes from her. He had never seen the doe – Faraday – before. The tale of this woman was so legendary, so lovely, that even Drago had found himself touched by it.

Particularly because Faraday had been so betrayed by his father, and yet still she had died for him.

Drago could not imagine loving anyone that much. Was her agony worth it? Surely she must now regret her devotion to Axis. Surely?

The doe raised her eyes from her contemplation of Zenith and stared briefly at Drago.

It was only a brief look, but in that moment Drago saw something that took his breath away.

As the doe had raised her head he had seen in the curve of the animal throat the grace of a beautiful woman’s neck, and he had seen in the rough reddish hair of the doe’s coat the gleam of tangled chestnut hair, and for an instant he had seen a tortured woman’s soul behind the creature’s dark eyes.

The doe glanced once more at the sack, trembled, then bent her attention back to Zenith.

She is losing her battle. She descends towards madness. This place is too Niah-strong for her already weakened and saddened state.

The voice, so soft and gentle, whispered through Drago’s mind, and he stifled a cry.

“M’Lady?” the Goodwife said. “Isn’t there something you can do? My herbs cannot mend this malady.”

How can I evict this presence that torments her so? The doe lowered her nose to Zenith’s forehead. She fights, and it fights within her, and I can see no help, no solution.

“WolfStar found her, and raped her,” Drago put in suddenly, wanting them to know all the horror.

“And what did you do as WolfStar raped her?” the Goodwife asked.

“I… I did not know what was happening. She’d run from camp. I did not know until it was too late.”

The Goodwife lowered her eyes contemptuously.

Was he to be blamed for all Tencendor’s woes, Drago wondered, then turned to the doe.

“Help her, please,” he said, and extended a hand towards her.

The doe flinched, and he dropped it.

,’ can do nothing, she said.

“I can do nothing,” the Goodwife echoed.

“But what can ,’ do? I can’t leave her here! I -”

“Where do you go?” the Goodwife asked. “What sin do you plan next?”

“I plan to save my own life!” Drago shouted. “Is that such a sin?”

He took a huge breath, trying to bring his anger under control. “She wanted to go to the Island of Mist and Memory. To StarDrifter.”

StarDriftert “He said once… he said he would always be there to catch her.”

Ah. The doe tilted her head and considered Drago. Perhaps I can summon StarDrifter here. Zenith will never survive the trip to the Isle.

Drago hesitated, then leaned down and touched Zenith’s cheek a last time. He could do no more for her, and he knew that she was better left in the care of these two than struggling further south with him.

“Take care of her, please.” He let her weight fall into the arms of the Goodwife, picked up the sack, and stood up, retreating several paces.

Where are you going?

Where? Where? Drago didn’t know. He retreated another pace, the sack clutched tight to his chest.

Why that? the doe asked sadly.

“I don’t know,” Drago muttered, staring at her. “I don’t know.”

It has its own purpose.

“It has no thought of its own!”

It seeks… it seeks a home.

“No!” Now Drago had reached the far edge of the grove.

Take it back.

“No!” Drago yelled one last time, staring frantically for a moment at Zenith, and then was gone.

After his son defeated Gorgrael, StarDrifter had made his home on the Island of Mist and Memory. There he studied and dreamed, conducted the rites of Star worship, and was generally content. He lived on Temple Mount, establishing an academy for Icarü children with Enchanter powers, and teaching what he knew and what he’d come to understand. He had mellowed in the tranquillity of the island, and became more patient and serene, although StarDrifter did not fully realise this change in himself.

He did not lack for company, either. Although the population of the Mount itself had not grown appreciably over the past years, the Icarü had built themselves a spreading town about the foot of the mountain. From there, they could rise on the jungle thermals to the peak to attend rites, or just to come and absorb the power that washed about the great Temple of the Stars.

At first StarDrifter had visited his family in Sigholt once or twice a year, but as time had passed, and Axis and Azhure’s children grew into adulthood, his visits had become more infrequent, sometimes once every two years, more often longer. Axis and Azhure came to him on Temple Mount now and then, but their visits had become rare since they had drifted more with their Star God companions; StarDrifter had not seen them in some three years.

He missed them, but he missed his grandchildren more, and every few weeks guilt made him vow to himself to go to Sigholt this Yuletide. But he somehow knew that Yuletide would come and go, and his grandchildren would remain unseen. Caelum was now too busy ruling Tencendor to leave, RiverStar too self-absorbed, Isfrael and Zenith had their own lives, and Drago… well, Drago had so little in common with the other SunSoars that he was the last person StarDrifter expected to visit the island.

All his grandchildren had spent time with StarDrifter when they were growing up. StarDrifter even missed Drago who, despite his outwardly sullen appearance, had a lively mind and had spent hours following StarDrifter about the complex, asking questions. StarDrifter missed them all… except RiverStar. He was glad she no longer came. StarDrifter had once promised himself that he would have Azhure’s eldest daughter if he could not have Azhure, but RiverStar had herself crept into his bed when she was thirteen, her hands knowing and bold, and StarDrifter had been so repelled by the experience that he had lost any desire for her.

StarDrifter was lonely, although he did not recognise it. He had let Rivkah go, and he had lost contact with his son and his grandchildren. Even FreeFall and his wife, EvenSong, StarDrifter’s daughter, were too busy to attend to him.

So this day he wandered the orchard above the Dome of the Stars, his wings fluttering out behind him, eyes half closed, his head lifted slightly to the sea breeze as it rushed over the cliffs, and he wondered why he felt so melancholy.

It was a warm day, and yet StarDrifter found his flesh creeping with a strange chill. He opened his eyes fully, and stood still, looking about.

There was something wrong.

A knot of nervousness twisted about in his belly. He had not felt anything like this for years… many years. What was it?

He turned about in a slow circle, his wings now half extended, ready for flight.

StarDrifter…

That voice! He knew it, but could not place it. Who?

StarDrifter…

Calling, calling to him. Worried, but so far away. Who?

And then power hit him like a blast of turbulent wind. StarDrifter cried out, almost fell over, then managed to regain his balance. He looked about, not understanding. He was surrounded by vibrant, pulsing emerald light. So vibrant it lived, shadowing and shifting…

“Stars,” he whispered, and saw that one section of the emerald light was changing, reshaping so that it became a tunnel of swirling silver and emerald light, and at the end of this tunnel stood two women, one holding out her hand.

One was a pleasant-faced woman in late middle-age, dark brown hair greying and coiled loosely about her head. She was dressed in a soft pale blue robe, belted about with a rainbow-striped band. From her came most of this power.

The Mother. StarDrifter had never seen her personified, but he recognised her power from years of conducting joint rites with the Avar.

The other woman was Faraday. StarDrifter could not believe it. When had he last seen her? At Axis’ side in Carlon, smiling and cheerful, not yet knowing that Axis had betrayed her with Azhure.

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