Sinner by Sara Douglass. Book One of The Wayfarer Redemption

“First, be Drago’s friend.”

Faraday’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Drago? But he…”

“He is not what most believe, Faraday.” And then Noah leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

“H,”m?” Faraday stuttered. “I find that difficult to believe -”

“No, you do not.” Noah laid a warm hand over her heart. “In here, you do believe it.”

Faraday stared at him, then nodded. “I will be Drago’s friend. That will not be an onerous task. What else?”

“Second, I want you to be Drago’s trust.”

“What do you mean?”

“My meaning will become clearer in time. Meanwhile, I ask only that you trust in me when I say that.”

Faraday thought about it, then again nodded her head. “Very well, I will be his trust. What is third?”

“Thirdly, I wish that you bring Drago to me. As soon as you can, although that may not be for many long months yet.”

“How do I reach you?”

“Go to the Silent Woman Keep. And trust.”

Faraday grinned, but agreed. “And fourth?”

“Fourth, I want you to find that which is lost.”

“I do not know what you -”

“Faraday,” Noah said gently, “as we speak you are being transformed. It is the power of the Rainbow Sceptre that transforms you, and the Sceptre uses as its power the combined intelligence of the Repositories. No, let me finish. The transformation will enrich you. It will give you the power to find that which is lost.”

“And what must I find?”

Noah shrugged. “Many things. Use the power as you see fit. But eventually, once Drago comes back, I will need you to find something that I mislaid. Something that Drago will need – my Katie’s Enchanted Song Book.”

“Katie?”

Immense sadness came over Noah’s face. “She was once my daughter, but that was long ago, and she and hers have turned to dust. Do this for me, please.”

Faraday regarded him carefully. “You do not ask difficult things of me, Noah. I accept.”

He leaned forward and briefly hugged her. “Faraday, I thank you! Once I meant to ask WolfStar these things, but he has misunderstood so many things and now I no longer trust him. I will hand Drago over to you instead. Oh Faraday, I do thank you!”

And she knew no more of Noah or of the strange room in the Repository.

So here she stood in the Star Gate chamber, committed again to someone else’s quest, but this one Faraday could accept. At the end of it lay peace, whether the peace of happiness or the peace of death. Those were terms she could live with.

But she could do nothing for either Noah or Drago at the moment. Drago had gone through the Star Gate, and until he came back, her life was her own.

Faraday stilled at that thought. What was she to do with herself?

She did not particularly want to go back to the forests. She had not enjoyed treading the paths of Minstrelsea as a doe. The Mother had promised her peace in that form and, true, for a while she had found it. But she had also been trapped. She could not reach out to the ones she loved.

She had wanted to let Axis touch her, but the White Stag had not allowed it.

She would have liked to have held her child Isfrael in her arms, croon lullabies to him, but instead had been forced to watch him grow from behind the doe’s eyes. Now he hardly ever thought of her. No-one ever thought of her. She had simply become a dream legend. No-one thought of her any more. She had done her dreadful duty for the Prophecy and for Tencendor, and had been condemned to wander in doe form through legend. For an instant the memory of Gorgrael filled her mind. The feel of him tearing her belly out, then her throat, and all the while Axis locked in his duty as StarMan and doing nothing, nothing, nothing.

But now she had been released from that legend, hadn’t she? She had a second chance, and time for herself – at least until Drago returned. For what?

“To find that which is lost,” Faraday murmured. “As I see fit. An easy task. Otherwise my life is now my own. To do what ,’ want!”

“For what ,’ want!” she repeated, and slowly straightened. That was a novel thought. Her life had been handed back to her, for her to direct as she willed.

She looked about the Star Gate chamber one last time. The blue light pulsed about the domed roof, and the sound of the star wind assaulted her ears, but she’d had enough of star mysteries. Now was her time. Finally.

She turned her back on the Star Gate, wrapped the cloak more securely about her nakedness, and walked slowly into the passageway.

She emerged into the dark, cold hours of the morning, and Faraday hugged the cloak gratefully to her. She let the cold air wash about her face, and suddenly she laughed and spun about.

“I am alive!” she cried, not caring who heard her. “I am alive!”

She could not remember ever feeling happier.

She stood and looked at the line of Minstrelsea to the north, considering. The forest had held her and nurtured her, and she could feel its welcoming pull. But it no longer felt like home.

She squinted into the dark and realised there was a figure standing there.

Goodwife Renkin.

Faraday shifted her weight from foot to foot. Did the Mother wish to speak to her? But then she saw the Goodwife raise her hand and wave her goodbye. There was a lovely smile on her face, but she was too far away for Faraday to discern any other expression.

Goodbye, my Daughter. May the luck of the world finally spin your way.

“Goodbye, Mother,” Faraday whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “Goodbye.”

Then she turned her back on the forest and walked south.

She walked until dawn, remembering only the warmth of the Mother’s smile, and the blessing of her goodbye, then she stopped as the sun dawned, and she tried to think about where she should go.

Where did she want to go? Who did she want to see?

Zenith. She wanted to know how Zenith was. And StarDrifter. Drago’s words that StarDrifter had said he’d always be there to catch Zenith had touched Faraday deeply, and she thought she would be glad to see StarDrifter again, too.

“South,” she said, and laughed yet again. “South to the Island of Mist and Memory!”

She turned and strode across the Tarantaise plains, nothing but freedom before her.

There was pain again, and darkness, and a time when Drago fell into an unknowing. And then he came to the realisation that he was… asleep.

Warm and comfortable, and asleep. He rose slowly towards wakefulness, and as he emerged from his sleep the feeling of warmth and comfort increased until he thought he would cry with the joy that it gave him.

He lay, cocooned in warmth on a soft, fragrant couch. His eyes were still closed, yet he felt others about him. One of them approached – he heard soft footsteps – and Drago felt a smooth, warm hand stroke the hair back from his forehead. He smiled, still not opening his eyes, and heard a voice.

“He said his name was Drago.” Rich, melodious, and full of power.

“He was drifting.” Another voice, as powerful as the first, but with more of a lilt to it.

“He is a mortal,” said yet another again, “and yet he has such a feel of enchantment about him.”

“He stepped through the Star Gate -”

“And survived -”

“Why?”

“How?”

“Speak to us, mortal being. We know that you are awake.”

“Share with us your secrets.”

Drago opened his eyes, and they widened in wonderment as he beheld those before him.

There were five beings, human-like in shape, but with very pale skin and jewel-like eyes – all of different hues. They stood ranged before his couch in a semi-circle, their hands folded before them, their full, long pastel robes of plain cut. Behind them were pillars, and beyond those a garden of carefully spaced trees and close-mown lawn. There was something moving among the trees, but Drago could not make it out.

He frowned – had he gone to the AfterLife, and was this peaceful room the AfterLife he warranted?

“Nay, mortal man,” one of the beings said. The only woman among them, and with sapphire eyes. “You are merely with us.”

“Where am I?” Drago said, looking about. Strangely, he felt no fear.

The beings looked among themselves, and shrugged their shoulders. “It is difficult to explain,” one said.

“It is a ‘place’,” said another, and he shrugged uncomfortably. “A world, if you like. It is not our usual abode. Merely a necessary resting place on our journey.”

Journey? thought Drago, but other questions took priority for the moment.