Axis had been riding for six days and thought he must be close to Isaiah. He’d angled inland as Inardle had told him, riding as hard as he could, using every minute of light available in the lengthening days to push forward.

He had not seen Inardle since that night she’d told him of Bingaleal’s death. He did not care. Axis was utterly done with her. He hoped she drifted off somewhere and he would not have to think about her again.

He had not seen Inardle and was happy for that, but Axis was growing weary of the lonely ride. He’d always had a companion — someone . . . Belial, Azhure, any number of Axe Wielders, other companions, Star Gods, more recently Insharah or Georgdi.

Now there was no one save himself, and Axis did not always find too much of his own company a good thing.

He was truly looking forward to meeting with Isaiah again.

It was well after noon and Axis was hoping that soon he’d see a smudge on the horizon that would tell him a large army was moving ahead. If luck was with him, if he saw that smudge, then maybe he’d be sitting with Isaiah about a campfire tonight.

Axis’ heart lifted at the thought.

He pushed his horse a little harder, his eyes scanning the horizon as carefully as he could. His Icarii blood gave him excellent vision, far better than any pure human, but even so .

Damn Inardle for not being here and sharing with him her elevated view.

Axis glanced upward, vaguely hoping that she might materialise above him and tell him that Isaiah was, indeed, only just over the horizon.

But there were only a few scattered birds, high in the sky. No Lealfast to be seen.

Of course, Inardle could be invisible and just above him anyway.

“Inardle?” Axis called.

There was nothing but the gentle breeze and the sound of the horse’s hooves.

Axis silently cursed her. Inardle was likely hovering directly overhead, knowing precisely where Isaiah was, but refusing to communicate with him out of spite because he had not shared her tears at Bingaleal’s death.

Axis rode for a few more minutes. Now he was beginning to obsess about Inardle’s lack of response and the fact she likely knew just how much further he had to ride.

Curse her!

For perhaps the first time in his life Axis began to wish he had not refused StarDrifter’s offer to coax out his wing buds. It was all very well to refuse when you thought you would always have winged companions who would be true to you and who would always provide you with as much information as they knew, but when you had to depend on someone like Inardle .

Winged companions who were always true, and who always provided information . . .

Axis suddenly smiled, looking up into the sky again.

There! An eagle, soaring high above him.

When Axis had been the StarMan of Tencendor, he’d had a venerable eagle often serve as his eyes in the sky. Would this one be as amenable?

My friend eagle? Axis used his power to call out to it, even though he knew such use of the Star Dance would light him up like a candle in a dark cave for any Lealfast about. My friend eagle?

The bird said nothing, but it tipped it wings and spiralled down closer to Axis.

My friend eagle, I crave your aid.

You are the StarMan. I know you.

I am indeed, but how can you possibly know me?

My venerable father’s aunt had a mate who came from Tencendor. That eagle knew of you and spread word among the eagles of this land of your name and accomplishments.

Then I thank him. Friend eagle, I have need to see through your eyes. May I do so?

It is of no matter or risk to me. You may do so.

The next moment Axis found himself looking, not at the rolling plains before him, but at the world from several hundred paces in the air.

It took him a moment or two to orientate himself, then he began to scan the way ahead.

There was the green smudge he’d been wondering about for an hour or so. It was a small, low-lying wood, mostly thick shrubs with a few trees, and all probably grouped about a spring. Beyond the trees was a vast herd of sheep, perhaps several thousand strong, and their shepherds, who were grouped about four or five horsemen. Axis thought he would instruct the eagle to look closer at that group, but for the moment he wanted to try and spot Isaiah’s army.

He focussed beyond the sheep and the trees, the eagle’s eyesight now running further and further over that vast expanse of plain beyond the trees . . . and there . . . the smudge that Axis had been looking for. It was many hours away, perhaps not reachable until well after nightfall, but reach it tonight he would.

Axis grinned. Isaiah!

StarMan, the eagle said.

Yes, my friend eagle?

Look with me now behind you, there . . . there . . . not five hundred paces behind you . . .

Axis saw Inardle first. She was invisible, but the eagle’s vision picked her up as a distortion in the air that was so detailed Axis could actually see the features of her face.

Damn, he had never realised eagles could see so finely!

Look, StarMan.

Axis could now see behind Inardle, another forty or fifty paces, and saw a group of about fifteen Lealfast. They were approaching very fast, and they had their bows set with arrows.

Inardle had no idea they were there.

For an instant Axis thought the arrows were meant for him, then he realised the Lealfast were focussed on Inardle, not on him.

Axis reacted instantly. Inardle! Axis called, and she looked at him.

Inardle! Behind you!

She looked over her shoulder, and Axis, through the eagle’s vision, saw her expression turn from one of mild annoyance to outright fear.

“Shit!” Axis murmured, withdrawing his eyesight from the eagle and reining his horse in before turning it about and booting it back toward Inardle’s position.

She became suddenly visible — probably, Axis thought, in order to assist him in aiding her rather than in any attempt to evade the Lealfast behind her — and tilted her wings so that she angled down toward the ground.

Damn it! Axis had no weapons save for a knife. There was nothing he could do to —

An arrow, then five, arced out of the air behind Inardle. She cried out, twisting away so that they all fell useless to the earth, but then came another volley, fifteen arrows this time; and then yet another volley, and then another, all aimed at different points to either side of her.

Axis saw Inardle panic. She didn’t know which way to turn and, in her hesitation, left herself open to the arrows.

Two of them thudded into her left wing, and Axis was now close enough to hear her cry of shock.

Inardle tumbled downward, then managed to regain some control of her flight.

Inardle! Get down to me! Axis cried. To me!

She heard and angled herself toward him. She was very close now, a moment away . . . more arrows flew around her.

One more hit her left wing, then one to her right.

Just before she hit him, Axis wrenched the horse about so that Inardle thudded into his back.

“Hang on as tight as you can,” Axis cried, then booted the by now terrified horse — stars alone knew how fast it could go with the double load — into a gallop.

If only he could get to that stand of low trees.

At the same time, he used the Song of Mirrors to cloak himself and Inardle and the horse in reflections.

With any luck these would be Bingaleal’s fighters coming along behind them, and would not realise the deception until Axis and Inardle had managed to reach the stand of trees.

There they might have a chance.

Several arrows thudded into the ground directly in front of the horse, making it swerve in fright. Axis felt himself being dragged to one side by an unbalanced Inardle, and for one terrible moment thought they would both fall to the ground, but at the last possible heartbeat, he managed to pull both of them upright.

The horse was now running wild with fear for the trees.

Stars, give them enough time to make it!

Axis heard the beat of wings directly behind them, even above the pounding of the horse’s hooves, and knew they were doomed. The Lealfast were not being deceived by the reflections.

He heard the twanging of bowstrings, then an instant later both he and Inardle cried out as they fell forward over the horse’s neck with the impact of an arrow.

Inardle had been clasping Axis about the shoulders, and the arrow had gone through her right hand and into Axis’ shoulder, pinning them together.

The pain and shock of impact was momentarily blinding. Axis had dropped the reins in shock, and now attempted to fumble for them again.

His right arm was almost useless.

The beating of Lealfast wings was directly overhead, he could hear them clearly, and Axis was sure they were dead with the next volley of arrows.

Then, stunningly, the scream of an eagle.

Axis couldn’t see, he was concentrating too hard on the ever-nearing line of trees, but he heard the thump, thump, thump of impact, and knew the eagle had careened through the group of Lealfast fighters.

Suddenly there was an almighty thud five or six paces to the right of the horse and Axis saw that two Lealfast fighters had hit the ground.

They were not moving.

I thank you, my friend! Axis said to the eagle, hoping it had survived its attack. The sound of Lealfast wings overhead had faded . . . the surviving fighters had likely scattered with the eagle’s attack and were now reforming.

The line of trees was finally very close, five or six heartbeats away, and Axis knew what he had to do.

It might kill them both — at best it had the potential to seriously injure them — but he had no choice. It was their only chance.

“Inardle,” he gasped. “When we reach the trees, we need to tumble off this horse and burrow as deep as we can under the shrubbery.”

“We can’t . . . the arrow —”

“I know about the damn arrow!” Axis said. “Listen, we have to do this any moment. Just do it! Understand?”

There was no more time for her to complain. The horse had plunged into the line of trees and shrubs and low branches were whipping and catching their legs and bodies.

“Axis!” Inardle wailed, and he felt her tilt to the right, he with her.

“Damn!” Axis had time to mutter before letting himself slide, giving the horse as hard a boot as he could as they crashed to the ground.

The impact was so painful Axis almost blacked out. He felt the arrow tear through the flesh of his shoulder as they tumbled over and over, and then suddenly Inardle’s hand was freed and they were separate.

Axis grabbed at one of her arms, pulling her deeper under a dense shrub.

At the same time he reformed the Song of Mirrors wrapped about the horse that was now almost at the other side of the stand of trees and ready, so far as Axis knew, to plunge into the undoubtedly startled sheep and shepherds.

There were cries and the continuing, if fading, sound of the horse’s hooves.

Then Axis heard the sound of arrows impacting flesh and he assumed the Lealfast had killed his horse in their belief that the riders still clung to it under the cloaking enchantment.

Then a thump as the horse hit the ground.

Then another thump.

Then several more.

Axis frowned, trying to make sense of it. Was the horse’s corpse jittering all over the ground?

Inardle was curled in a ball, moaning in pain to one side, but Axis ignored her.

He was fighting to retain consciousness, fighting to cut through the pain and shock of tumbling off the horse as well as the agony in his shoulder, and couldn’t make sense of what he had just heard.

Why had the horse fallen to the ground many times over?

It made no sense, and Axis realised they were still in grave danger. He grabbed at Inardle, trying to get her to her feet so they could run — Stars, there were footsteps running toward them! — but she could not even rise to her knees. Axis found himself sinking to the ground again as blackness threatened to overwhelm him.

There was the sound of men, many men, surrounding the shrub under which Axis and Inardle crouched.

Then, impossibly, the sound of soft laughter as someone pushed aside the shrubbery.

“By the gods, Axis,” Isaiah said, “I never thought to find the great StarMan himself loitering under a bush!”