The crown hissed at him, the darkness writhing in agitation, but Vorstus took no notice. He thrust the crown into the leather satchel, secured it firmly, then left the chamber.
Within the hour he was on a horse and riding east.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Palace of the First, Yoyette, Coroleas
It was very dark, not a lamp lit anywhere in the apartment, and for that reason Salome was very relaxed.
StarDrifter could not see her back.
His hands were very soft and very sure on her body, and Salome allowed herself to drift into a state of sheer bliss.
She’d never had a lover like this. No wonder her mother and grandmother had succumbed.
But she would be careful. Yes, she would.
But no need to be careful now. He couldn’t see. He wouldn’t know. He didn’t suspect.
He didn’t talk, and Salome appreciated that.
He ran his hand down her flank, each individual finger touching her differently, each sending separate trails of ecstasy down her body.
Why had she denied herself an Icarii lover for so long? Who would want to deny themselves this?
He kissed her shoulder, and she felt his mouth smile against her flesh.
“You may stay the night,” she murmured.
“I had no intention of leaving,” StarDrifter whispered.
A moment’s irritation engulfed her. StarDrifter refused to defer to her, laughed at her commands, ignored her demands.
Then his hand slid even lower, and her irritation vanished on her gasp, and was forgotten even before StarDrifter mounted her again.
She dozed. She was vaguely aware that StarDrifter had left the bed and used the washroom. She smiled as she felt his weight settle back on the bed, and stretched catlike as his arms wrapped about her once more.
He turned her face to his, and kissed her, slow and deep, making Salome rouse fully from her slumber and arch her body into his.
His hands were sliding slowly over her again, moving teasingly down her body. One slid over her sex, and she parted her legs for him, moaning with pleasure as his fingers slid deep within her, stroking and caressing.
He was murmuring in her ear. Not talk, just soft nothingness. His hand was now sliding up her body, stroking, stroking, and Salome realized his intent had changed. No longer was he arousing, but comforting, almost like a mother trying to lull her child to sleep.
And she did feel sleepy. Salome stretched once more, then yawned, and allowed StarDrifter to snuggle her in close to his body.
Within moments she was deeply asleep.
StarDrifter waited almost half an hour for the drug to have its full effect, then he rose from the bed and walked back to the washroom. He washed the smell of her from his body, then dressed, patting the pocket in his breeches where earlier had rested the pessary, now working its stupor deep within Salome’s body.
StarDrifter lit a lamp when he came back into the bedchamber, partly so he could see what he was doing, partly to see if the light caused Salome to stir.
She slept on, her mouth now very slightly and unbecomingly agape. StarDrifter walked over to the bed, the lamp in his hand, and stood watching her for some minutes.
He might loathe her, but he could still manage to admire her beauty. Then, curious, he put a hand on her shoulder and rolled her over onto her belly.
She didn’t stir.
StarDrifter sat down on the bed and brought the lamp closer…then muttered a soft oath of surprise. He lifted his free hand and lightly traced his fingers down the very faint outline of a scar down her spine.
Stars! She’d had wings taken out!
StarDrifter drew in a deep breath, thinking. She had far more Icarii blood in her than he’d originally thought. At least a half blood and possibly far more.
His fingers traced the scar again. It was very old, and StarDrifter suspected she’d had not wings taken out, but wing buds. Icarii didn’t grow their wings until they were five or six, when the wings developed from nascent buds in their backs. Someone, her parents, had known she was likely to develop wings, and so had the buds removed when she would have been three or four.
Once more his fingers stroked down her back, this time more caressing than exploratory.
Her cruelty—was that Icarii arrogance more than anything else?
StarDrifter shuddered, finally drawing his hand away from her. Stars, he thought, anything but that.
He rose, stood for a long moment looking down at her, reflecting that by morning her entire world would have collapsed, and persuading himself that it was worth it; she had denied her Icarii heritage, refused to accept it, she deserved whatever ill came her way…
Giving himself a little shake, irritated that he’d fallen into such reflection, StarDrifter walked away from the bed and toward the shelf where stood the Weeper.
He stood before it, the lamp raised in his hand.
Then, very slowly, StarDrifter bowed before it. “I greet you well, Weeper,” he said as he rose. “My name is StarDrifter SunSoar, a prince of the Icarii and a once-powerful Enchanter. I have come to take you to the Lord of Elcho Falling—”
He stopped there, horrified, for the bronze statue began to weep. Although there were always trails of moisture down its cheeks, now the bronze eyes began to flood with tears, so much so that the moisture ran down the deity’s bronze body in rivulets, dripped off its toes, and puddled on the floor.
“Please,” StarDrifter whispered, almost overcome himself by the Weeper’s show of emotion, “allow me to take you in my arms, that I—”
The statue was weeping even harder now, and making soft, heartrending noises.
StarDrifter swallowed, “—that I may carry you to the Lord of Elcho Falling, so that he may release your tortured soul.”
Stars! He didn’t know what to do. The deity was now sobbing, StarDrifter could virtually see its shoulders shaking, although he knew that was not possible.
“Please,” he whispered, risking resting his hand on the deity’s shoulder.
What he felt from it was extraordinary: a loneliness so deep it broke StarDrifter’s heart; a sadness so consuming it almost drove StarDrifter mad; a desperation for this man, this Lord of Elcho Falling, that was inconsolable.
StarDrifter did the only thing he could. He put the lamp down, then reached forward and took the deity from its shelf, cuddling it in his arms.
The deity was bronze, it was not capable of moving, but nonetheless StarDrifter thought he felt—or intuited—it snuggling against his body, almost as a small child would.
“I’ll take you to he who waits for you,” he whispered, “but for the moment you must be quiet.”
Then, wrapping the deity in a bundle of Salome’s clothes that she’d discarded by the bed, he left the bedchamber.
There were guards outside, but they were so used to Salome and her lovers that the sight of a man emerging from her chamber late at night was of no fuss to them.
Nonetheless, one stopped StarDrifter, asking what it was he held in his arms.
StarDrifter grimaced. “Her soiled linens,” he said. “She demanded I hand them to the laundress.”
The guards both laughed, waving him on his way. “At least she did not require you to wash them yourself!”
Ba’al’uz leapt up from the bed as StarDrifter entered, his eyes riveted on the bundle that StarDrifter carried. “You have it!”
“Aye, and it was easier than I’d thought,” StarDrifter said. He made as if to hand the bundle to Ba’al’uz, but the Weeper shrieked the instant he lifted it away from his body.
StarDrifter reflexively hugged it back to him, and the Weeper fell silent.
Ba’al’uz and StarDrifter looked at each other, and StarDrifter thought he could see flat hatred in Ba’al’uz’ eyes.
“Looks like I’ll need to carry it,” said StarDrifter.
“At least until the ship is well embarked,” Ba’al’uz muttered. “Tell me, how long do we have? When did you giv
e Salome the pessary?”
“About an hour ago,” StarDrifter said, then stopped awkwardly, as if he’d wanted to say something else but thought better of it.
“But?” said Ba’al’uz, his eyes narrowed.
“I had a close look at Salome’s back,” StarDrifter said slowly, wondering if he should tell Ba’al’uz this, but wanting to distract him from any thought of taking the Weeper.
“Yes? And?”
“She has a long scar down her spine. Very old. As a child she had wing nubs cut out of her back.”
“Salome is an Icarii?”
“Yes. At least, she has Icarii blood in her. One of her parents, and probably one or more of her grandparents.”
Ba’al’uz stared at StarDrifter, then gave a small nod and a smile. “Very well, then. Now, we must leave. The ship embarks at dawn.”
An hour later, as they left the palace to hurry to the wharves, the Weeper still securely wrapped in StarDrifter’s arms, Ba’al’uz took a moment to whisper to one of the men standing guard at the gates to the Palace of the First.
[ Part Six ]
CHAPTER ONE
Northern Plains of Isembaard
They left the next morning, Zeboath confident that Ishbel was well enough to travel. She was very quiet, and Axis wondered if it was because she still felt unwell, or if she feared what lay ahead. It was probably a combination, Axis thought, as he settled Ishbel on the quietest horse he could find for her. She could sit the horse well enough, but she had little confidence on it, and Axis thought he’d need to keep close by in case she experienced any troubles.
Axis nodded at Zeboath, who had brought his own horse, as well as a packhorse loaded with panniers and bundles. Zeboath had been prepared to leave Torinox in any case, and had needed only to load the packhorse to be ready to depart with Axis.
Axis’ men had been up since dawn, readying for departure. He greeted Insharah and spent a few minutes quietly conferring with him about their plans and the route for the day. As they spoke, Axis noted one of the other men pausing as he saddled his horse, then resting his head momentarily against the horse’s neck, as if he felt unwell.
“Is Madarin ill?” Axis asked Insharah.
Insharah looked over and grunted. “He has a bellyache,” he said. “Ate too much of the landlord’s eel pie last night.”
“Ah,” said Axis, “then a hard day’s ride should iron out those knots, eh?”
They rode out of Torinox by midmorning. It was later than Axis had really wanted to leave (and if Zeboath had had his way then they would have been gone by dawn), but he hadn’t wanted to push Ishbel. The most immediate route to Aqhat was directly south, but Axis thought it might be better if they rode southeast toward the Lhyl. He didn’t think Ishbel should be made to ride the entire distance to Aqhat—it would be better by far to hire river craft for the majority of the journey.
Nonetheless, Ishbel managed fairly well. Axis did not force the pace, going only as fast as he judged was comfortable for her. The going was good. Even though it was high summer in Isembaard, this close to the FarReach Mountains the sun was mild, the breezes cool, and the ground soft underneath the horses’ hooves. Axis enjoyed the day. Ishbel rode mostly in silence—Axis did not push her for conversation—but he, Zeboath, and Insharah rode together, just to one side of Ishbel, and laughed and chatted the day away. Zeboath was a good companion. He had a mischievous sense of humor and a witty turn of phrase, and was so palpably glad to have escaped Torinox that his zest infected both Axis and Insharah.
They stopped for a brief meal just after noon, then rode another four hours. By that time Ishbel was visibly wearying, and Axis knew they’d have to stop for the night. He’d hoped to find a village or small town, but there was nothing within three or four hours’ ride.
For stars’ sakes, Axis thought, irritated by the lack of anywhere comfortable to sleep, I cannot understand Isaiah’s wish to depopulate this region further!
They would need to camp for the night, and as Ishbel had made it this far over the FarReach Mountains, Axis thought she would manage another night in the open.
It was close to evening by the time they’d unsaddled the horses and established a camp. Insharah had seen to the lighting of two campfires, one for the soldiers, and one for Axis, Ishbel, and Zeboath. Axis noted wryly that while he and the soldiers had shared the one campfire on the trip north, as soon as a woman (and a queen at that) and a physician had joined the troop, social distinctions had come silently into play, and Axis had been relegated to entertain the visitors while the soldiers maintained their own ribald campfire.
They settled down, eating a cold meal of bread and cheese and pickles. As Axis chewed his food, he reflected on all the journeys he’d taken in his life, and all the people with whom he’d shared a campfire.
Zeboath saw Axis watching Ishbel speculatively, and asked him what he was thinking.
Axis gave a soft laugh, brushing his fingers together to rid himself of bread crumbs. “I was thinking of all the beautiful women I’ve shared a campfire with in my life,” he said, “and of all the strange adventures and mysteries of which we were in pursuit. All the dangers, the terrors, and the ecstasies that we encountered.”
“And all the magics,” Ishbel said. “You were born for this kind of adventure, Axis. Not I.”
Axis gave a small shrug of his shoulders.
“What did you mean yesterday,” he said, “when you said Maximilian had brought the terror of the Veins out with him?”
Ishbel glanced at Zeboath.
“I am sure that Zeboath knows how to hold his tongue when needed,” Axis said. “Eh, Zeboath?”
Zeboath nodded, his eyes round, and Axis repressed a grin. He’d never seen anyone enjoy an adventure as much as Zeboath.
“Maximilian has an affinity for the darkness,” Ishbel said. She had a piece of bread and cheese in her hands, and she stared at it as she spoke, turning it over and over.
“In what manner?” Axis said.
“He becomes one with the darkness,” Ishbel said, finally looking up and meeting Axis’ eyes. “He can blend with it.”
As Axis frowned slightly, she continued. “When first we met…” She gave a short, soft laugh. “When first we met he used the darkness to spy on me. It was in Pelemere. I had a chamber in a house belonging to King Sirus, and it was not especially large. I returned to it one evening, and bathed and ate, and for an hour or more I did not realize that Maximilian was in that chamber with me, until he drew a breath, and I heard him.”
“He was not just lurking behind a wardrobe, or the shadow of the door?” Axis asked.
Ishbel shook her head. “He was standing against a wall, but I had clear sight of it. And yet, in all the time, I did not see him. And then, when we escaped the city—”
Axis made a mental note to ask her sometime why they’d needed to “escape” Pelemere.
“—he cloaked me in the same manner, and we crept past guards within touching distance, and they never saw us.”
“That sounds an admirable skill,” said Zeboath. “Imagine the ladies on whom I could spy.”
Ishbel gave a small smile, but there was no amusement behind it. “Maximilian is very disconcerting.”
Axis was becoming more intrigued with the man the more he heard about him, and wondered, somewhat idly, if Ba’al’uz had stolen the wrong person.
Ishbel looked at Axis directly. “As are you.”
Axis jerked out of his reverie. “What?”
“I woke, the other night, and saw you holding a most strange object in your hand. It glowed…and, oh, the expression on your face. I have seen that expression before only ever on the faces of priests locked in god-power. So, Axis, what darkness are you carrying about in your pack and in your heart?”
Axis considered a moment, then decided to be frank. “Bear with me,” he said. “I’ll need to explain first some of my background, especially for Zeboath.”
He looked to Zeboath. “I told you th
at I came from the lost land of Tencendor. My full name is Axis SunSoar, and once I was StarMan of Tencendor, and later one of the seven Star Gods of that land. Then came invasion and disaster, and I lost contact with the source of all my power, the Star Dance, and my son, DragonStar SunSoar, saved the land only by destroying it. Perhaps you have heard something of my life.”
Zeboath managed to close his mouth and collect himself. “Ah, yes. Yes, I have.”
“Well,” said Axis, “when I was a far greater man than I am now, I drew power from the Star Dance—the music that the stars make in their dance through the heavens. It filtered through to Tencendor via the Star Gate, a magical gateway into the universe. From the Star Dance itself I could manipulate the dance and create enchantments out of it. When the Timekeeper Demons destroyed the Star Gate, they also cut off the flow of the Star Dance and I, supreme Star God, became once again a mere mortal.”
His mouth twisted in deprecating humor. “It was a devastating blow. Not just to me, but to all Icarii Enchanters, all of whom drew strength and beauty and power from the Star Dance. It wasn’t only the loss of power, but it was more the loss of the beauty that had underpinned our every breath and our every thought. That beauty…”
Axis sighed, rose, and fetched his pack. From it he withdrew a cloth bundle, which he unwrapped to reveal the glass pyramid, now a dull gray. He passed it first to Ishbel, who held it only a moment before passing it to Zeboath.
“One of my men found this in the packs of Ba’al’uz’ men,” Axis said, taking it back from Zeboath. “It belonged to Ba’al’uz himself, and I know what it is because Isaiah has one, as does…well, I know what it does. It is a communication device. I have seen Isaiah use his, but have never touched it myself. The first night I brought Ishbel to Torinox, while she slept, I pulled this from my pack and studied it.” He paused, turning the pyramid over and over in his hand. “It did not look this gray then.”
“It was a lovely rosy color, I think,” Ishbel said. “I am sure I remember a rosy glow coming from it.”