And no doubt Zenith also finds it hard to adjust to whatever torment she has been subjected to, StarDrifter thought.
     Without thinking he took one of Niah's wings in his hand, intending to lift it into position for her.
     "Don't you dare touch me!" she hissed and spun away, almost overbalancing with the weight of her wings.
     "I was only trying to help," StarDrifter said, keeping his voice even.
     "I am sorry," Niah said stiffly. "It was concern for my baby only that made me speak so."
     Her hands rested on her belly, and StarDrifter involuntarily glanced down at them. And curse that baby that had been got on Zenith's unwilling body.
     StarDrifter knew Niah encouraged WolfStar back into her bed night after night. A feeling, a presentiment whenever the renegade Enchanter was with her, the expression on Niah's face in the morning, all told him that WolfStar visited her whenever he could.
     StarDrifter felt sickened by it, but there was little he could do. He was powerless in the face of WolfStar's own ability, and he could hardly lock Niah up for taking a lover to her bed.
     "I dreamed last night," Niah said unexpectedly after a few minutes' silence. She was staring out to sea, the wind whipping her black hair to tangle in the upper feathers of her wings.
     "Yes?"
     "I dreamed that I was trapped in a small chamber underground, so restricted I could not stretch my wings, could not fly. I called and screamed for help, but no-one heard."
     She shivered. "No-one heard."
     Niah turned her head and smiled at StarDrifter. "I must have been remembering when I was locked in death, don't you think? Awaiting rebirth. I was pleased when I awoke."
     No, StarDrifter thought, that was Zenith calling for help, and you woke and trapped her into yet more darkness.
     "Ah." Niah wrapped her arms about herself. "This breeze has grown cool. I shall go back to my quarters, I think, and perhaps find one of the priestesses to talk to."
     "Do you resent not being First any longer?" StarDrifter asked suddenly.
     Niah tipped her head back and laughed. "Oh no! I shall use this life for other purposes, methinks."
     And then she was gone, and StarDrifter was left to watch her walk towards the Temple with eyes and heart smouldering with loss and resentment.
     He flew, for Zenith's sake as much as his own. He lifted off the cliffs and soared sunward on the thermal rising from the combined heat of island and temple beacon.
     It was only there, high in the sky with just the seagulls and the sun to observe, that he let himself cry. He had lost a granddaughter, yet still her body was paraded before him, used, to remind him every moment of his loss. She had been stolen, and abused in that stealing.
      He soared higher and higher, until the island became only a speck far below him. Perhaps it was time to leave the island, find a different purpose in life. He could not bear staying to watch Niah give birth (and to what'? An Enchanter? Surely, if WolfStar fathered it, and if Zenith's Enchanter powers were latent in her body), or to watch WolfStar himself croon over the baby.
     No, he should leave. Perhaps stay with FreeFall and EvenSong for a while in the Minaret Peaks. But that would be a useless life, and here at least he had some use.
     I have failed her, he thought. I have failed Zenith. I should have been able to help her.
     Slowly he spiralled downwards, thinking only to secrete himself in his room for reflection, when he swept over the northern cliff face of the Mount. A cart had dropped off a visitor at the foot of the steps and she was now climbing upwards.
     Impelled by curiosity more than anything else, StarDrifter made another pass over the steps - and almost fell out of the sky in surprise.
     Faraday stood there waving at him.
     She climbed to the top and StarDrifter alighted before her, sweeping her into a great hug.
     "StarDrifter!" Faraday laughed breathlessly, and pulled herself out of his grasp. "Whatever is it?"
      She sobered as she saw the expression on StarDrifter's face. "What's wrong?"
     He took a great, sobbing breath. "I've lost my granddaughter."
     They shared tales in StarDrifter's quarters, Faraday sitting close to the Enchanter, holding his hand, comforting him.
     "Is she lost or is she gone?" she asked eventually.
     StarDrifter told her of Niah's dream. "I have to believe she is still there, Faraday."
     Faraday smiled and patted StarDrifter's hand. "Well, if Zenith is lost we shall just have to find her again."
     The Maze SpikeFeather moored his boat to the dusty grey rock and studied the city before him. WingRidge had drawn a plan of the waterways, directing him to this cavern.
     "Find a way down," WingRidge had said, and then remained obstinately silent.
     What is it about the Icarü race, SpikeFeather thought irritably, that so predisposes us to mysteries? No doubt WingRidge thought there was value in making SpikeFeather toil in finding his way to this forgotten Maze, but SpikeFeather thought WingRidge could just as easily have told him directly.
     He stood in one of the largest caverns in the waterways. It soared high above his head, so high SpikeFeather could not see its roof in this dimness, and extended so far back that SpikeFeather was sure he could fly for an entire day and not reach its limits. Most of the cavern was taken up with an ancient city so old that the stone of walls and pavement had bleached into a colourless grey. Cracks webbed their way through wall and road alike, and rock dust lay thick over every flat surface and clung in damp draperies to the walls.
     The buildings were massive, fourteen, fifteen levels high, SpikeFeather guessed, and each level spacious enough to plant a field of grain in. Doors of petrified wood hung at odd angles, shutters lay in piles beneath windows and littered the roadways.
     It was a place, not of death, but of nothingness. People (who?) had once lived, loved, laughed and died here. But there was nothing left. Nothing to remember them by save these memory-less buildings. The entire purpose of their existence had been lost forever.
     SpikeFeather shook himself out of his maudlin thoughts. He reached into the boat and drew out a dry brand - Orr had insisted he always carry a torch with him in case he found the need to explore the caverns. Well, now SpikeFeather had the need. He lit the brand and, carrying it high, walked into the city.
     Down, WingRidge had said, so SpikeFeather walked slowly through the streets, looking for an entrance to a cellar, or steps leading down… something. But no matter how hard he looked, and how many buildings he explored, he found no trapdoors or stairwells.
     Down. But how? Only the need to find Orr and to explain his terror kept SpikeFeather looking even when tiredness began to slow his steps. He did not know how far he'd wandered through the city, or how much time had passed, when he came upon a curious symbol scratched into the pavement.
     It was a diagram of a knot - a maze.
     It was the same symbol that the Lake Guard wore on their tunics.
     SpikeFeather squatted down and studied the symbol. It showed a stylised maze, a walled circular centre space with twists of corridors about it, eventually leading, once the dead ends had been negotiated, to an exit. SpikeFeather looked at the exit, then looked to where it pointed. There was an alleyway leading away from the main street.
     SpikeFeather stood and walked down the alleyway. Some seventy paces down he found another symbol scratched into the pavement, and this time the exit from the maze pointed down a wide avenue.
     SpikeFeather followed the sign until he found another symbol, and another, and then another.
     He paused, and looked about. He was back in a street that he knew he'd been down hours ago - and yet there had not been a symbol here then. And look! The next indicated street was another that he'd previously explored. He realised he was retracing his steps, and the maze symbols also criss-crossed each other, so he was partly retracing the original pathway the symbols had told him to take.
     SpikeFeather stood and thought. Lost? Misled? Or something else?
     He remembered something Orr had taught him. The waterways formed patterns in the same way that sung music did. Were the symbols leading him in a complicated dance? Were the patterns he formed with his steps a kind of magical dance - an enchantment?
     Yes, yes, that was it. The symbols were forcing him to form a pattern, and when that pattern was completed…
     SpikeFeather hurried down the street indicated. Now that he knew what was happening he did not hesitate. He felt rejuvenated, excited. How much longer before he completed the pattern - the enchantment - that would show him the Maze?
     As it turned out, not long. Three more symbols, three more turns, and the enchantment slipped into place.
     SpikeFeather walked into a large rectangular stone-flagged market area, an area he had crossed four times already in his quest for the Maze. But this time there was something different. This time almost all the stone flagging had disappeared to make way for a massive set of stairs leading down, down, down.
     "Down," SpikeFeather whispered, and began his descent.
     He climbed down the wide, winding stairwell until his legs screamed in protest. This was longer and more arduous than any of the stairwells SpikeFeather had travelled in order to reach the waterways from the Overworld. The incline of the stairwell was deceptively mild, but after hours of travelling and turning, SpikeFeather had learned to curse it.
     He stopped, paused, and laughed wryly to himself. What was he doing? Had his years with Orr fuddled him so completely he'd forgotten his wings?
     Still smiling ruefully, SpikeFeather spread his almost-forgotten wings and spiralled down the stairwell.
     In two turns he came to the end, and he wondered if he'd passed some kind of test.
     There was a high corridor, extending perhaps some hundred paces before him. It was lined with columns carved with strange picture symbols that SpikeFeather glanced at but did not pause to investigate. He strode down the corridor, through the archway at its end, and stopped… stunned into complete immobility.
     He stood at the lip of yet another staircase, but he could well see where this one led. Before him spread a city - but it was more than a city. It was also a maze. A labyrinth. And it was massive beyond comprehension.
     There was a wall, some thirty paces high, that ran about it, but directly before SpikeFeather, at the foot of the staircase, was a gate.
     SpikeFeather walked slowly down the stairs. Like everything else associated with this Maze, the gate was huge. It stood twenty paces high, and ten across. It was arched with great blocks of stone guarding twin closed doors of solid wood. There were no handles, no locks. SpikeFeather cautiously laid a hand on one of the doors and pushed.
     It did not budge… but the instant that he'd laid his hand on the wood SpikeFeather had felt rather than heard a distant tinkle.
     As if glass had broken.
     SpikeFeather was no fool, and Orr had taught him well. He knew what that was. These gates had been warded. An enchantment had been laid over them to warn someone if they were touched.
     Warn who?
     Warn of what?
     SpikeFeather spun about, unsure what to do. Should he run? Get out? Should he -
     "Well, well. I always thought it would be Caelum who found this Maze," said a voice, "or at the very least Axis."
     WolfStar SunSoar stepped down from the arch of the corridor. "But, no. It is SpikeFeather TrueSong. The Ferryman's apprentice. A birdman with no business here at all. What do you do here, birdman?"
     The Maze Gate's Message H >ow did you find this place?" Wolf Star said, walking down the steps.
     "The Lake Guard drew me a diagram."
     WolfStar stopped on the last step and raised his eyebrows. "The Lake Guard? But they were ever sworn to secrecy regarding this place."
     "They are afraid that the Grail King stirs."
     "What?"
     WolfStar rocked badly enough to make him almost lose his balance. Then, in a movement so fast it was a blur, he was on top of SpikeFeather, a hand buried in the cloth of his tunic, another in SpikeFeather's hair. " What?"
     "The Grail King in the Maze," SpikeFeather forced out between teeth clenched in fear. "Qeteb. The Maze. That is all I know."
     Qeteb? he wondered amid his fear. Was that the name of the Grail King? Of whatever was trapped in the Maze?
     "And how is it that you know these things, SpikeFeather TrueSong? You are an apprentice Ferryman," WolfStar spat the phrase with unconcealed disgust, "and not even an Enchanter. You have no right to know these things, nor to be standing before the Maze itself!"
     As briefly and as quickly as he could, SpikeFeather told WolfStar of the message - and the terror - Orr had passed across to him.
     "I have been looking for Orr as much as the Maze, WolfStar. Do… do you think he might be in there?"
     Despite WolfStar's still fierce grip, SpikeFeather managed to tilt his head slightly towards the Maze.
     "In there?" WolfStar let SpikeFeather go and the birdman relaxed. "In the Maze? No, I do not think so. He would not be able to enter. Caelum is the only one who can."
     "Caelum?"
     WolfStar ignored the question. "I need to retrieve the memory of the night Orr sent you that message, SpikeFeather. Be still… this will not hurt."
     WolfStar buried his hand in SpikeFeather's hair again, holding him still. The Enchanter initiated the Song of Recall, faltered, then recovered, and SpikeFeather felt the memory of Orr's terror and words sear up through his mind.
     Strangely, for SpikeFeather had thought WolfStar lied, the enchantment did not pain him in the slightest. The sensation was unusual, but not unpleasant. The memory of Orr's words and emotions tumbled through his mind, and he could feel WolfStar playing with them, reviewing them from every angle and, SpikeFeather shivered, travelling back down the memory to its source.
     To the Star Chamber.
     "Stars!" WolfStar cried, and again let SpikeFeather go.
     SpikeFeather stumbled, but as he caught his balance WolfStar cried, "Look!"
     Before them the grey haze of the vision appeared. In it Orr struggled at the very lip of the Star Gate with Drago SunSoar. Both were shouting, struggling for possession of something wrapped about with an old cloth of strange shifting colours…
     WolfStar groaned and sank to his knees. SpikeFeather, dragging his eyes away from the vision for an instant, could not believe the horror on the Enchanter's face. What was it that so terrified On and WolfStar alike?
     "He has the Rainbow Sceptre," WolfStar mumbled. "That carrion bastard Drago has the Sceptre!"
     Orr had his hand about the smooth wood of the rod.
     "It speaks to Orr," WolfStar said tonelessly. "The Sceptre acted as a conduit for the power of the Maze. The Maze was the source of the knowledge and the words, SpikeFeather. Not Orr. Orr knew nothing of this place or what it contained."
     "The Sceptre spoke to -?"
     "It must be terrified. Look, see how they struggle! The Sceptre has passed the terror to Orr, and he to you. Oh, mercy! Drago, I should have killed you myself!" WolfStar lowered himself into a crouch, almost as if he thought to spring into the vision itself.
     Now Drago had pushed Orr away, and he spun the Sceptre about his head. The cloths had fallen off it, and rainbow light spun about the chamber.
     Then, amid the violent struggle, the Sceptre came crashing down on Orr's head, and the Ferryman collapsed on the floor.
     "No!" SpikeFeather cried, and reached uselessly into the vision.
     "Yes!" WolfStar said. "See how practised Drago has become at murder? He tried with Caelum, succeeded with RiverStar and see how he now does Orr to death!"
     Orr breathed his last, and with that the vision faded.
     But not before WolfStar had caught a glimpse of the red doe watching from the pillars. Faraday?
     WolfStar slowly straightened from his crouch. Had Faraday seen what happened next?
     "Did Drago step through the Star Gate with that Sceptre?" WolfStar asked no-one in particular. "Did he?"
     "WolfStar, what is happening? Is Orr dead? What is this Maze? WolfStar, tell me what is happening!"
     WolfStar's eyes slowly focused on SpikeFeather's face. "Well, why not. The Maze itself seemed to want you to find it. Perhaps the Lake Guard were right to trust you. Yes, Orr is dead -"
     SpikeFeather wailed.
     "Oh, stop your grieving! He had outlived his time and has at least performed one valuable service in relaying the Sceptre's warning."
     "WolfStar! Tell me what is -"
     "If you will be quiet for more than one moment then I will!" WolfStar took a deep breath. "Good. Now, this Maze has stood here for many thousands of years. Tens of thousands of years. Until I told the children who have grown into the Lake Guard, none knew about it save I. Not even Orr or any other Charonite."
     "Did you learn of it beyond the Star Gate? Is it one of the mysteries you brought back with you from the dead?"
     WolfStar thought about again rebuking SpikeFeather for the interruption, but decided against it. "In a sense you are right, for I first learned of the Maze beyond the Star Gate. The Maze itself managed to reach me - I know not how - and inducted me into certain knowledges. Largely it was the Maze's power that enabled me to come back."
     "And you have kept its secrets since you returned? For three thousand years?"
     WolfStar nodded.
     "Then why show the children I rescued from Talon Spike? Why did they become the Lake Guard?"
     WolfStar frowned, for he knew there was something between the Maze and the Lake Guard he was not privy to. "The Maze asked to see them, and so I brought them here."
     "Yet Orr, as all the other Charonites, never knew of the Maze?"
     WolfStar was growing tired of the incessant questioning - why did the Maze need to see this irritating birdman of all people?
     "They were not required to attend the Maze, SpikeFeather, and thus it never informed them of its presence."
     WolfStar's mouth curved in secret amusement. "Did you realise that we stand directly under the Grail Lake? This cavern lies far below the depths of the lake."
     SpikeFeather looked startled, his eyes darting nervously upwards as if he expected to see faint trails of moisture seeping down the cavern roof far above.
     "SpikeFeather, did you have a chance to examine the gate itself?"
     WolfStar walked to the stone arches surrounding the gates, SpikeFeather a step behind him. As he got closer, SpikeFeather saw that the stone was covered in the same strange characters as the columns in the corridor leading to the Maze had been.
     WolfStar glanced at SpikeFeather. "Can you read them?"
     "No, I can't… no, wait. This, and this… they are pictorial representations of…"
     "Ideas and conceptions, SpikeFeather. The ancients wrote in language that did not use letters as we know them, but actually drew different symbols to impart ideas. If you remember that, then the translation does not become too difficult, although it will take you some months to master it fully. But for now I shall translate. See, the inscription starts here."
     WolfStar squatted by the foot of the arch, his finger tracing upwards, and began to read. The Gate told of a time when four craft from a world very far away crashed into Tencendor, so long ago that the land had a different and now long-forgotten name. The creatures within the craft had died, but the craft had survived, burying themselves into the land, the depressions they created eventually forming the Sacred Lakes.
     "The waters of these lakes borrowed an infinitesimally tiny amount of the residual power left from the crafts' impact, but enough to make them deeply magical. The true magic, however, lay far deeper under the waters."
     WolfStar paused, knowing SpikeFeather was not ready for it all, yet.
     But then, who was?
     No, there were others who needed to know first - yet even before he told them, WolfStar needed to discover if the vision had been correct, if Drago had truly stolen the Rainbow Sceptre.
     "The craft contained various items," WolfStar said. "Items that the creatures who had originally driven the craft had… appropriated… from some others. I am afraid that these others will one day come back for them."
     And if the shit-rotted Drago had gone through the Star Gate with the Sceptre then they might very well be on the move now.
     WolfStar stilled, a frightful coldness creeping over him. Over these past few weeks he had noted an annoying weakness in his power. Not much, just a trifle, but it was there. Witness the minor problem he'd just had with the Song of Recall. Was it because…? No! No! It could not be!
     Gods, but he needed to know what was happening!
     "WolfStar? WolfStar?"
     WolfStar broke but of his reverie. "Yes?"
     "If these 'others' come back, WolfStar, do we let them take what is theirs?"
     WolfStar slowly shook his head. "No. No, we do not let them take what they want. We fight until Tencendor itself is charcoal, if necessary, but we do not let them take what is theirs. Look." WolfStar pointed to a symbol above the cornerstone of the arch. It was a star, surmounted by a sun.
     WolfStar smiled gently. "StarSon."
     "The Lake Guard said they owed their loyalty to the StarSon."
     "Yes, they would protect him above all else."
     "Why did you say only Caelum could enter this Maze? And why is StarSon mentioned on this archway?"
     WolfStar thought very hard, then decided a portion of the truth would not hurt. "SpikeFeather, the Rainbow Sceptre is made partly from the power of the Mother, but in great part it uses as its power the energy of the four craft themselves. The energy that powered the craft also enlivens the Sceptre. The Sceptre is very closely tied to the craft, with what the craft protect, and is thus closely tied to this Maze which is an outgrowth of one of the craft. Axis SunSoar used the Sceptre to destroy Gorgrael, but he used only a tiny proportion of its power to do that. SpikeFeather, I believe the Sceptre can also be used, if need be, to destroy what lies at the heart of the Maze."
     "And StarSon?"
     "I believe StarSon is the only one who can wield it. Caelum… I have always loved that boy, but when I knew also how he, or his descendants, might protect Tencendor against the horrors that seep through the Star Gate, my love grew three-fold."
     WolfStar suddenly turned around and stared furiously at SpikeFeather. "And now that carrion has stolen the Rainbow Sceptre! Has he also taken it through to the TimeKeepers? Has be?"
     Before SpikeFeather could form any answer, WolfStar disappeared, leaving behind him as many questions as he had answered.
     Most particularly, SpikeFeather realised, he had carefully steered the conversation away from the subject of the Grail King and Qeteb.
     A Town Gained, a Sceptre Lost P e's what'?" Caelum whispered.
     I I "Taken Kastaleon?" Askam shouted, rising JL. J_ from his chair.
     The captain shifted uncomfortably. "He argues it is in part compensation for the losses your trading tariffs have caused him and Western Tencendor, my Prince. But," the captain moved his gaze back to Caelum, "he says he will hand Kastaleon back if the StarSon is prepared to negotiate on the matters that Prince Zared raised when he was here for Council."
     "How could you have lost Kastaleon?" Askam said. He cared not for whatever message Zared had sent.
     "My Prince, I had no reason to suspect that the Prince of the North meant to seize the castle. I greeted him in the courtyard with the respect he is due, and instead found myself invaded. StarSon," again he looked to Caelum, "I did not realise we were at war with the North."
     "Neither did I," Caelum muttered. "How many men did Zared have with him?"
     "Perhaps five hundred, StarSon. Only lightly armoured."
     Caelum looked to Askam, still red-faced and upset. "Is Kastaleon stocked and weaponed for a siege, Askam?"
     "What? Oh, ah… no. It could stand a few weeks, perhaps. But not long, and not with only a few hundred men."
     Caelum looked back to the captain. "Thank you, captain. You are dismissed. But do not leave Sigholt yet. I have no doubt that Askam will demand a few more answers from you than I have."
     The captain nodded unhappily. He bowed to Caelum and then Askam, and left the map-room.
     Caelum sat silent, needing a few minutes to think. By the Stars! What had driven Zared to act so?
     "It is Rivkah's bad blood," Askam said in an undertone. "First Borneheld, and now Zared."
     Caelum looked up sharply. "You forget that I carry Rivkah's blood, too."
     Askam flushed. "My apologies, StarSon. But Borneheld tore this land to pieces in his quest for the throne of Achar. Committed murder to do so. Zared now appears intent on doing the same."
     "I never thought he would go this far," Caelum said, looking tired and worried. "Taking over Kastaleon? What did he think he would accomplish?"
     "My Lord, I request formal permission to lead a force to retake my castle."
     "No, no. Let us think this through a moment, Askam."
     "My Lord -"
     "Askam, I am not going to rush into an ill-considered response. Now, sit."
     Caelum turned his face slightly to one side as Askam sat down. What worried him the most was what Zared might be prepared to do next - and who might be prepared to support him in it. FreeFall and Yllgaine would never support Zared's rebellion - for that is what it was -but what about the human peoples in their territories? Did Zared have good reason to act so precipitously? Caelum remembered Yllgaine saying he'd heard murmurs from among the humans regarding the throne.
     "Askam, did Zared have a point about the peoples in the West and North murmuring that they wanted their throne restored to them?"
     "No, I have never heard a word about it," Askam said, but Caelum noticed that he spoke too quickly and would not look him in the eyes.
     Caelum dropped his gaze again, thinking. Askam would have good reason to deny that his people were agitating for a restored Acharite king.
     Were the human peoples truly muttering about needing a king of their own?
     Caelum repressed a shiver. If the people were willing to back Zared there was so much else a King of Achar could restore as well. The hatreds and divisions between the Icarü and the Avar and the Acharites. How well had the humans accepted the return of the Icarü and Avar into southern Tencendor? Not well, if they wanted their own monarch back. And if they wanted their king back, then what else might they consider resurrecting? The Seneschal? A limited war to wrest lands back from the Avar and Icarü?
     This time Caelum did shiver. He could all too easily envision a King of Achar leading to another Wars of the Axe and the eventual destruction of Tencendor. Another thousand years of hatreds and bleakness and exile.
     How could Zared even think of asking for the throne of Achar? Didn't he realise the implications? Or did he realise only too well? What else did Zared have planned? A request for the Minstrelsea to be levelled once he had the circlet of king firmly on his brow?
     Caelum took a deep breath. This was not just a crisis, but a test. The first real test of his reign. All Tencendor would be watching to see how he coped.
     What would his father have done?
     "We have to act," Caelum said, and Askam jerked his head up from his own contemplations.
     "How so, StarSon?"
     Caelum did not answer immediately, but rose from his chair, walked to the door, and asked the guard to request Strike Leader DareWing FullHeart to attend him immediately.
     "Caelum? What do you plan?" Askam said as Caelum walked back and sat down again.
     Caelum looked at him, and Askam was stunned to see what appeared to be fear in his eyes. "I plan to quash Zared once and for all," Caelum said quietly. This is what Axis would have done. "His push for power represents too many evils for me to watch it go by quietly. My father battled for years to reunite Tencendor in the face of Acharite opposition. I cannot lose it for him in just one generation."
     There was a movement at the door, and the Strike Leader entered.
     "Ah, DareWing, sit down."
     DareWing, a birdman with sharp brown eyes and saffron wings, sat himself opposite Caelum. "StarSon?"
      Caelum briefed DareWing on the situation. "I have to act, DareWing. I cannot let this pass."
     "I agree, StarSon, but surely -"
     "Damn it! I cannot believe he would do this!" Caelum said. "Not with all the old hatreds so fresh in our minds. Well, if he has attacked us, then we shall attack him. DareWing, ready the Strike Force."
     DareWing shot an anxious glance at Askam, but Askam's own face was lit with excitement, and DareWing knew he'd have to fight this on his own.
     "StarSon, would it not be better to ask the advice of the other Five Families?"
     "No time to call them, Strike Leader. I shall have to rely on my own judgment."
     DareWing took a deep breath. Gods! "Perhaps the StarMan."
     ",' sit the Throne of the Stars, DareWing! My father has little to do with the world of mortals. This is my decision!"
     DareWing tried one last time. "StarSon, at least discuss this with a wider circle. To use the Strike Force to attack humans in Kastaleon - well, nothing could be more guaranteed to provoke old hatreds."
     "Ah," Caelum said tonelessly, "I do not intend to throw you at Kastaleon, DareWing. I want you and your Strike Force to take Severin for me."
     "But-"
     "Seize it as Zared has seized Kastaleon."
     "But-"
     "Do it, DareWing! I want to see your battle plans this evening! Now, leave us!"
     DareWing rose stiffly and bowed.
     "DareWing," Caelum added as the Strike Leader walked to the door.
     "Yes?"
     "I want no word of this to get out. Severin must be taken by surprise."
     DareWing nodded curtly, and left.
     "A city for your castle, my friend," Caelum said. "I intend to grind Zared into the dust for his stupidity. For this piece of foolishness Zared will lose his seat of power."
     "Good." Askam sat back. "You will not negotiate with Zared? You are not considering his rash request?"
     Caelum grimaced. "A King of Achar is the very last thing that Tencendor or I need, Askam. Rest easy, your lands will be safe. I shall send word that I request Zared to stay at Kastaleon while I summon the other Heads of the Five Families to meet at the castle to discuss the throne - peace, Askam! I simply do not want Zared moving anywhere else until I've had time to move. If he believes I'm prepared to negotiate he'll stay in Kastaleon."
     Caelum smiled grimly. "By the time I've finished with him, no-one will support him."
     "When do we ride for Kastaleon, StarSon?" "As soon as DareWing sends word that he has secured Severin. A few days, no more. And within a month, Askam, no-one will want to offer Zared so much as an apple in case it be construed as support."
     DareWing FullHeart led the Strike Force himself, saddened beyond measure that the StarSon had asked him to do this. Severin was a lovely town, bustling and open-hearted. It had no idea of the forthcoming attack, no reason to expect it.
     DareWing did not lead the full twelve Wings of the Strike Force. Severin would offer no resistance, and six Wings would do as well as twelve.
     Besides, once word of this filtered through Tencendor, who knew where else the Strike Force would be required? Damn Caelum for reacting this savagely, DareWing thought, damn him! Why couldn't he have talked with Zared first? Surely this could have been solved around the negotiating table?
     But he obeyed anyway. Not to do so would be worse than complying with his order.
     DareWing attacked, if such a manoeuvre could be called attack, at dawn. The townsfolk were only just waking up, and most were still fogged by sleep. The militia were cold after a night's watch - and, DareWing noted, were sparse anyway. Zared must have moved most of his forces further south.
     No-one offered much resistance. The six Wings dropped out of the dawning sun, subduing the watch with virtually no bloodshed. As had been the case in Kastaleon, the watch assumed that the Icarü dropping out of the sky were on a friendly, if puzzling, mission and did not offer any resistance until too late.
     Once the militia were subdued, DareWings ordered guards be placed at the main roadways, public buildings, and informed the mayor personally that for the moment Severin was under martial law. StarSon Caelum's martial law.
     "What?" the mayor spluttered over his eggs and toast. "Why?"
     "You have not heard what Zared has done?" Dare Wing asked.
     "No." But the mayor narrowed his gaze, and Dare Wing wondered if he had guessed.
     "He has seized Kastaleon from Prince Askam, claiming it as compensation for the people of the West and North. As reprisal, Caelum has ordered Severin seized."
     "He can't do that!"
     "Nevertheless," DareWing said, "he has. Now, I require a tour of the town and what fortifications and weapon stores it has. Immediately, if you please."
     The mayor pushed aside his toast and eggs and stood up. As he did so he glanced at his wife hovering in the kitchen doorway. She nodded slightly, and backed silently into the kitchen.
     "This way," the mayor said, and pushed past DareWing to the front door.
     "Severin is taken," the farflight scout reported to Caelum, standing in Sigholt's central courtyard.
     "Good," Caelum said, and turned to Askam. "Then we ride for Kastaleon in the morning. Will we be able to get there before word reaches Zared of the Strike Force's action?"
     "Yes, StarSon. Severin is slightly closer to Kastaleon as the raven flies, but we can use the river transports on the Nordra. They await us at Gundealga Ford as I speak."
     "Good, then see to the final preparations."
     Caelum strode back inside Sigholt, irritated at his inner uncertainty. He knew he was doing the right thing. Surely. What else could he do? Negotiate with Zared over the throne of Achar? Never! A King of Achar would only ferment the hatreds of the past.
     But would Zared do such a thing? Did he not say that he only wanted to create a ceremonial position?
     "No," Caelum muttered aloud as he strode along the corridors towards his private apartments. "If not Zared then his son, or his great grandson. I cannot allow even the seeds to be sown, let alone watch the harvest ripen into despair."
     Caelum opened the door to his apartments, and stopped short in shock. " WolfStar!"
     He slowly closed the door behind him. "Why are you here, WolfStar? Is it the children? Are they closer?"
     "No," WolfStar said shortly and far too sharply, and gestured impatiently. "Caelum, where did your father secrete the Rainbow Sceptre?"
     "Is that for you to know, WolfStar?"
     "Tell me!" WolfStar stepped forward.
     Caelum stiffened, but held his ground. "The Rainbow Sceptre is none of your -"
     "Confound your objections, boy! I oversaw its birth!"
     "But the Sceptre was my father's, and through him, mine, and I would know why it is you want to see it."
     WolfStar breathed deeply, tendons standing out on his neck. "Yes, you are correct - the Rainbow Sceptre is yours by right and, by the Stars! I hope you will have the chance to use it!"
     Caelum frowned, but WolfStar went on.
     "I want to see it, Caelum StarSon, because I have every reason to believe it is no longer here."
     "What?"
     "I think Drago has stolen it. I am sure of it."
     "No," Caelum whispered. "No. It cannot be!"
     Zared's treachery had pushed Drago from Caelum's mind over the past few days. He'd had patrols out looking for his brother, and had sent word throughout Tencendor for everyone to be on the watch for him, but no-one had heard or seen anything.
     Now his nightmare came rushing back, and for an instant Caelum felt himself impaled at the end of DragonStar's sword. Had he seized the Rainbow Sceptre?
     Was that the cry of the hunt he could hear?
     How would Drago manage to seize the Sceptre?
     Was that the thunder of the black horseman in the distance?
     If Drago had it, what could he do with it?
     "Caelum!" WolfStar said, and seized Caelum by the elbow, shaking him. "Where is it hidden?"
     Caelum struggled with, and then mastered, his unreasoning fear. "Come with me," he said, and led WolfStar into the corridor. They moved down until they reached a smaller hallway branching off to the left. It had several doors either side, but Caelum ignored them.
     He walked to the end of the hall, and stopped at a wall of grey stone.
     "Where?" WolfStar said.
     Caelum did not answer, but instead hummed a snatch of music. He waited, frowning, then hummed it again.
     "What -?" he began, but before he could say any more the wall shimmered, then dissolved, revealing a small chamber.
     WolfStar glanced sharply at Caelum, but for the moment he walked silently into the chamber. It was bare, save for red-plastered walls and a small window high in one wall. The oakwood floor revealed no trapdoors.
     "Where?" he repeated.
     Again Caelum did not answer, but again hummed a melody. This time he did not have to repeat it.
     A shelf appeared on the back wall, and on that shelf was a beautifully worked silver casket.
     "My father had this made to house the Sceptre," Caelum said. "He meant to study it, explore it, but it always reminded him so much of Faraday's death he never did."
     He paused, the casket in his arms, and looked at WolfStar. "Drago could never have stolen the Sceptre," he said. "The enchantments that hide this casket are powerful indeed."
     Enough for you to falter over, thought WolfStar. Or is there something else wrong, Caelum? Why stumble so badly?
     "Open it," he said.
     "No-one knew of these enchantments save my father and myself," Caelum said, delaying the inevitable. "No-one knew where the Sceptre -"
     "Open it!"
     Caelum's eyes dropped. He took a deep breath, then the fingers of his right hand pressed into a secret catch on the side of the casket.
     The lid sprung open.
     Revealing nothing but the scarlet, silk-lined interior.
     The Sceptre was gone.-
     "Stars!" Caelum cried, and for an instant he could almost feel the tip of the sword slicing through his chest, feel the taste of Drago's bloody malevolence in his mouth.
     "WolfStar… WolfStar, there is no way that Drago could have stolen this! No way! He can't —"
     "Nevertheless, the fact is he has!"
     WolfStar stood thinking, shifting a little from foot to foot, then faced Caelum with such a look of dread that Caelum's stomach clenched.
     "My boy," WolfStar said very softly. "Over the past weeks, has your power remained untainted? At full strength? You needed to try that enchantment twice to enter this chamber…"
     "There has been a minor disturbance. But I thought it only because I have been so concerned with my cares that I-"
     "By all the stars in heaven," WolfStar whispered, his face blanching, "it has begun!"
     And then he vanished.
     Caelum stood, alternatively looking helplessly at the spot where WolfStar had vanished and at the empty cache.
     What did WolfStar mean, "it has begun"? And what should he do?
     For a very long time Caelum stood there, the empty casket in his arms, not knowing what to think or do next.
     How had Drago managed to get in?
     What could he do with the Sceptre?
     "Gods," Caelum eventually whispered, his face ashen. "It has begun again. Drago has set his sights on my murder, it seems. Where are you, Drago? What do you plan?"
     Did he ever dare sleep again?
     WolfStar strode through the archways surrounding the Star Gate chamber, startling the two Enchanters standing watch there into anxious exclamation.
     "Oh, be quiet!" WolfStar snapped, "I am not here to eat you!"
     He walked to the Star Gate and stood silently, wrapping his golden wings about him, cocooning himself against the terror he half expected to be rushing towards it from the other side.
     But there was nothing.
     Nothing save the whispers of the children.
     We're coming… we're coming, WolfStar!
     "They're closer," one of the Enchanters dared to say. Both of them had backed a safe distance away.
     WolfStar shot her a furious look, but she was right. They were closer. Significantly closer.
     But still far away, WolfStar tried to reassure himself. Besides, tt was not the children that so worried him.
     Was there a hint of anything else approaching the Star Gate?
     WolfStar bent his entire power and concentration to the task. Listening, feeling, probing.
     But even WolfStar's power, extensive as it was, was not enough to feel anything else.
     Was it because there was nothing else?
     Or was it because… they… were using the approach of the children to mask their own approach?
     WolfStar shuddered. He didn't know whether the slight diminution in his own power - and it was only slight - had any real connection with those who waited beyond the Star Gate. WolfStar didn't even know if Drago had gone through the Star Gate. Had he murdered Orr, then fled back down one of the passageways in terror? Was he lurking in the waterways somewhere? Where was the Rainbow Sceptre?
     The red doe. Faraday. She had been here. She would know.
     WolfStar tried to concentrate, tried to think it through. If - and only if - Drago had gone through, then would he have survived? Unlikely. But even if he had snapped out of existence, that left the Rainbow Sceptre floating lost amid the stars… lost for any who cared to pick it up and make use of it.
     "We need that Sceptre," WolfStar murmured. "Caelum - Tencendor! - has no chance without it. None!"
     Confound that piece of rotting carrion! What had happened? And what if… they… were approaching behind the children?
     What should he do?
     He needed far more power to scry them out than he commanded. "The power of the Circle," he said to the puzzled Enchanters.
     And he needed to know if Drago had gone through the Star Gate, or if the Rainbow Sceptre was still in Tencendor.
     "Faraday," WolfStar said, and vanished yet again.
     The two Enchanters looked at each other, shaken beyond measure at the renegade Enchanter's visit, and wondered what they should do.
     ForestFlight's Betrayal Zared narrowed his eyes against the late afternoon sun and stared into the sky. A stiff northerly breeze, redolent with frost, ruffled his black hair. He shivered and pulled his cloak closer. An Icarü approached from the north-west, his wings shuddering with the effort of coping with the wind.
     "He is not armed," Herme murmured by Zared's side. They stood atop Kastaleon's walls, awaiting Caelum's reaction. Indecision? Action? Retreat? They knew not what, and the unknowing was driving all to short tempers.
     "Even / could deal with a single armed Icarü," Zared said.
     "Of course," Herme soothed. "I did not mean -"
     "I know you did not," Zared said, dropping his eyes from the Icarü momentarily. "I apologise for my tone, Herme."
     Herme nodded, accepting the apology. They had heard nothing for… what? It was over two weeks since they'd taken this isolated pile of stones. In that time Caelum could have done anything.
     The Icarü circled lower and one of the guards called out a challenge.
     The Icarü answered, his words lost in the wind for Zared and Herme, but the guard waved the Icarü towards where they stood.
     "It's one of the Lake Guard," Zared said, every muscle in his body tensing as the Icarü dropped down towards him.
     "Caelum's answer," Herme said, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword, even though the birdman was unarmed. "They wouldn't fly about Tencendor for anyone else."
      "Hail, Prince Zared," said the Icarü, landing gracefully some two or three paces away from them. He was a striking birdman, with brilliant blue plumage and eyes and luminous white skin. "My name is ForestFlight EverSoar, and I -"
     "You come from Caelum?" Zared said shortly.
     "Indeed, my Prince. He has instructed me to greet you well in his name, and to -"
     "Oh, get on with it, man!"
     "My Prince, StarSon has instructed me to say that while he abhors your actions, he has reluctantly conceded that talks on the throne of Achar must proceed. Accordingly he bids that you wait here until he can summon the other Heads of the Five in Council at Kastaleon."
     Zared looked at the Icarü carefully. "He is summoning a Council to meet here?"
     "At this very moment, my Prince," ForestFlight said, unblinking.
     Zared looked to Herme. "Well?"
     Herme chewed his lip. "You seem to have startled him into some good sense, Zared. Although, gods knows, Askam must be furious."
     Zared nodded. "Well, nothing for it but to wait for the Council to arrive, I suppose. ForestFlight, I thank you, please avail yourself of the hospitality of Kastaleon before you leave. ForestFlight? You may leave. Now."
     ForestFlight stood his ground.
     "Go, birdman!" Herme snapped, sliding his hand back around the hilt of his sword.
     "Of course, there is that which Caelum very carefully instructed me not to tell you," ForestFlight began.
     Zared and Herme stilled. "Yes?" Zared said.
     "StarSon would very much like you not to know that eight days ago six Wing of the Strike Force took Severin, nor would he like you to know that even as I speak he and Prince Askam lead a force down the Nordra to retake Kastaleon and take you, the Duke of Aldeni and the Earl of Avonsdale into custody prior to your trial for high treason against the Star Throne. And we all know, do we not, Sir Prince, how well Caelum conducts trials."
     Zared could hardly breathe. He stared at ForestFlight, standing perfectly calm before him, and he struggled to come to terms with what the birdman had just declared. "Severin is taken?"
     "Yes, my Prince. It has been sealed, no-one can leave. That is why you have not heard."
     "And Caelum is leading a force to Kastaleon? How many? Where are they now?"
     "Some five thousand, Prince Zared. And barring shoals and accidents, they will land during the dark hours of tomorrow morning. His message is a lie. Caelum is determined that the throne of Achar will never be resurrected."
     Zared stepped forward and took the Icarü's chin in his hand. "And why are you telling me this, ForestFlight?" he said softly. "Why should I trust you? Is not your complete loyalty to the StarSon?"
     ForestFlight wrenched his chin away from Zared's grasp. "I answer to no-one save my captain," he said. "WingRidge gives me my orders. I do not know why he requested I tell you this. You may believe me or not, as you choose."
     And with that he leapt into the air with a powerful beat of his wings. Zared grabbed at him, but missed. He cursed, then put a hand on Herme's arm.
     "No, my friend. Do not shout to the guard. Their arrows would never hit him now, and nor would I want them to."
     "My Prince? What do you think we should do? Was that a false message from Caelum?"
     "I don't know. But can we afford to ignore it? And Severin? Taken?" Gods! He'd not expected that of Caelum! Zared felt guilt bite deep that an innocent town suffered for his ambition.
     There was a shout from the courtyard below. They looked down. Theod stood there, beckoning urgently. By his side stood a trader Zared recognised from Jannymire Goldman's coterie.
     "Luck? Or design?" Zared muttered, but stepped onto the ladder anyway.
     "Severin was taken over a week ago," the trader, Bormot Kilckman, said bluntly.
     "And how do you know -" Zared began, his voice roughened with frustration, when Kilckman thrust a cage at him. Inside was a small, grey pigeon.
     Zared recognised it instantly. "Mayor Iniscue's bird," he said softly, then explained to Herme and Theod. "Mayor Iniscue's wife keeps a score of these courier birds, trained to fly to various locations."
     "This one landed at Carlon two days ago," Kilckman explained. "It had a message tube attached with the bare fact of Severin's capture inside. I caught the next river boat for Kastaleon."
     Zared looked to the skies again, half expecting to see ForestFlight still circling above. But he was long gone… back to the StarSon he apparently served so badly. There was nothing there save dark clouds scudding in from the north-west.
     Bad weather, then.
     "So Severin is indeed lost," Herme said. "Is then Caelum a few bare hours away?"
     "What?" exclaimed Theod.
     Zared ignored him for the moment. "We must assume so, Herme. I cannot afford not to."
     Herme nodded, and quickly told Theod what they'd learned from the Lake Guard.
     Theod paled. "Four or five thousand men? Where would he get that -"
     "Askam sent a thousand of his own men to Sigholt," Zared said. "Perhaps he thought he'd need them at Council. And Caelum has always had a good force stationed at Sigholt. Coupled with the force he could have called in from Jervois Landing… yes, Caelum could easily have five thousand."
     "We'd never hold against five thousand," Herme said bluntly. "Can we recall our major force from the Western Ranges?"
     Zared shook his head. "It would take too long, far too long, and in any case I do not want to make a stand here."
     "Sir Prince," Kilckman said, "what will you do?"
     "Caelum thinks I will be here, awaiting his decision. He thinks to attack, probably at dawn tomorrow."
     "We have less than fifteen hours," Theod put in.
     Zared stood, thinking, the others watching impatiently.
     "We have to leave here," he said.
     "For where?" Theod and Herme said together.
     "Carlon."
     No-one looked surprised. "Yes," Kilckman said. "Carlon is your safest destination. Five thousand would not be enough to take Carlon from you."
     "But if Caelum is only a few hours behind us," Herme asked, "what chance -"
     Zared grinned. "Every chance, my friend. Theod? Once you played a prank on the Prince of Nor's younger cousin during his fifteenth name-day feast… do you remember it?"
     Theod slowly smiled. "Yes, yes I do."
     "Then I think we will not only have a surprise waiting for Caelum and his five thousand, but the means to delay them here some hours, if not days. Yes?"
     Theod laughed. "Yes!"
     "What is going on?" Herme asked.
     Zared slapped him on the back. "Come, my friend. I shall explain shortly, but first we have to get our men out of here. I want this castle cleared, the trap set, and us to be on the road for Carlon within five hours. Herme, I need you to send word to our forces waiting in the Western Ranges to move to Carlon. Kilckman? Master Goldman said that the traders and guilds of Carlon would back me in whatever way they could. Can you fulfil that promise?"
     "Aye, Sir Prince." Kilckman's eyes gleamed. "What can I do for you?"
     "Prepare the way, Kilckman. Leave now. Take the fastest boat if you have to. And…" Zared paused. "And ask Goldman if he will ensure that there will be an appropriate street welcome. He will know what I mean."
     Zared walked down the hallway leading to the private apartments in Kastaleon's Keep.
     The Keep was very quiet - everyone was outside preparing for departure - and the sound of his steps echoed eerily.
     He stopped outside the door to the main apartment, knocked quietly, then entered without waiting for a reply.
     Leagh was sitting on a bench by a window that looked down into the courtyard. She glanced up as he entered, then swiftly turned her eyes back to the window.
     She did not speak as Zared walked across the room and sat down beside her.
     He looked out the window —the courtyard was a-bustle with activity.
     "We are pulling out of Kastaleon," he said. "Tonight."
     Leagh finally looked at him.
     "Caelum comes," she said coldly. "And with an army. No wonder you run."
     Zared flinched. "Yes, Caelum comes, and I would prefer to meet him on better terms than those I have available here."
     "So where do we run?"
     "We move to Carlon."
     "Carlon? But-"
     "Leagh," Zared leaned over and took both her hands.
     She stiffened, but did not pull them free.
     "Leagh, I have lied to you, and I have been dishonest with you, and for that I must ask your forgiveness."
     "I don't think that I -"
     "Wait, let me finish." He shifted his grip slightly, holding her hands more firmly, and he looked her straight in the eyes.
     "There is far more to my struggle with Caelum than trade problems. At Council I… at Council I also asked that the throne of Achar be restored to me."
     "What!" Leagh pulled her hands from his and leaned back, utterly shocked.
     "Leagh, listen to me! For some time now representations from Carlon and the West have pleaded with me to restore the throne of Achar, restore the Acharites' pride and nationhood."
     "I don't believe you!"
     "Damn it, Leagh! Why do you think Theod and Herme ride with me?"
     "For their own gain?"
     "Ah! Leagh, did you never walk beyond your own apartments in your palace in Carlon? Have you never listened to the hearts of those who thronged the streets?"
     She was silent, but she dropped her eyes.
     "Leagh, there is far more involved than you or I, or my quarrel with Caelum and Askam. This involves an entire people, their wants and needs. Leagh… my love… I ask you to say nothing at this time. I hope that when we arrive in Carlon you will see that this is not of my wishing, but of the wishing of a people."
     "My loyalties -" she began.
     "Your loyalties and your responsibility should always be to your people, Leagh. Not to me, not to Askam, not even to Caelum."
     "My loyalty is to the Throne of the Stars, as should yours be!"
     "No," Zared said very softly, and took her hands again. "Our loyalty should always be to the people we represent, to those who look to us for leadership and protection. Leagh, I need you to understand this. I do not seek the throne of Achar through personal ambition, but through the wishes of the Acharites and a need to right the wrong that has been done to them, not just the unfair taxation burden that only the Acharites have been forced to shoulder, but the fact that Axis stripped our people - our people, damn it! - of their nationality and pride."
     "And me?"
     "You? Leagh, I love you heart and soul, and for that reason alone I want you as my wife. But I also love you for what you represent - a chance for the rift between West and North to be healed."
     "You want the lands of the West!"
     "If it would help reunite the Acharites as a people, then, yes, I do," he said bluntly.
     She was silent, trying to absorb his words.
     "Leagh," he said, "I have been utterly honest with you here today, and I regret that I have not been previously. You and I are not carter and laundress, with no responsibilities other than those our honest occupations demand. We both represent massive numbers of people and vast areas of land. Of course those responsibilities impinge on our relationship, and on how we view each other."
     He sighed, and lifted one hand to cup her face. "Leagh, I love you as a woman first and foremost, I love your strength and your courage, your wit and your laughter. I also know how advantageous a marriage between us would be, not personally, but to the people we represent. Do you know what I am saying?"
     She nodded. "We are man and woman, but we are also greater than that. We cannot regard marriage as a personal contract, but as a contract between people."
     "And so," he said softly, "we must take into account the wishes of our own people in our marriage. Leagh, I want you for my wife. When we get to Carlon I hope that you will see that your people want me for your husband. Will you accept their wishes in your answer?"
     She thought a long time, staring vaguely out the window.
     When she finally looked back at him, Zared could see tears brimming in her eyes.
     "If Carlon wants you as King, Zared, if I think that the people of the West want what you do, then, yes, I will be your wife."
     Zared relaxed, and leaned forward and kissed her.
     "Then don your riding clothes, my love, for tonight we ride."
     Faraday's Lie Niah linked her arm with Faraday's as they strolled through the orchard. "I am so glad we have this opportunity to talk," Niah said, and gave Faraday's arm a gentle squeeze.
     "You are?"
     "How long have you been here? Ten days? And in that time I have barely seen you. I have had to learn your history from the gossip of the priestesses' table."
     Faraday laughed. "I cannot imagine they painted a pretty picture of me!"
     "Oh, but you are wrong! The priestesses admire you enormously. The First told me that, with Azhure," Niah paused to take a proud breath as she said her daughter's name, "you were primarily responsible for Axis' success against Gorgrael."
     Faraday's face lost its laughter, but Niah did not notice.
     "You planted out the entire Minstrelsea by yourself? And the Avar were yours to command?"
     "It wasn't quite like that -"
     "And you wielded such power! Faraday, I am in awe."
     "You also had your part to play."
     Niah shrugged. "I bore a daughter."
     "And you died for her."
     "You died for Tencendor."
     They walked some way in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. Only once they reached the southern cliffs did Niah resume the conversation.
     "And, having died, here we both are. Free to do as we will, free on this beautiful and magical island."
     "One of us is not quite free." This was the opening Faraday had been waiting for. She had spent much time with StarDrifter, talking with him about Niah, wondering how best to free Zenith. This was a risk, but it had to be taken.
     "Oh?" Niah said, and halted, pulling Faraday to a stop beside her. "And how are you not free, Faraday?"
     "It was not myself of whom I spoke," Faraday said gently, looking Niah in the eye.
     Niah dropped her arm from Faraday's. "I have done nothing wrong."
     "We have both come back from the dead," Faraday continued. "But I have not taken over someone else's -"
     "I have not'taken over someone else'!" Niah countered. "I am me, I always have been! I -"
     "Niah -"
     "Zenith never existed! She was only waiting to realise her true self. Me!"
     "Niah, please, hear me out. I do not mean to make you angry, but -"
     "I am no-one but Niah! I never have been!"
     "StarDrifter tells me that your mannerisms are different, the way you react to things, even your laughter. You are not the same -"
     "My handwriting is the same! My tastes! Do not argue that -"
     "Niah! Listen to me!" Faraday's voice was unusually sharp, and Niah subsided.
     "Niah, can you not see that Zenith was a different woman? She loved to fly, you loathe it - why, if you were always her? Do you not remember how it felt to soar?" Niah was silent, her face set in stubborn lines. "Niah, believe me, I do not begrudge you your grab at life. It-"
     "It was promised me! And can you stand here and begrudge me my second chance at life when… how many chances have you had? Two? Three?"
     "I have never taken over someone else's life," Faraday repeated. "I have retransformed within the same world and within the same existence. Niah… in the manner of things, whoever dies is always reborn at some point. A soul inhabits the empty shell of a growing foetus. A soul cannot - should not - inhabit an already occupied and whole body."
     Niah turned her back to Faraday, staring out over the choppy grey sea.
     "Niah, surely you can see that merely by waiting -" "I have waited long enough!" Niah yelled, still refusing to look at Faraday. "WolfStar promised me that I would be reborn, and I have! And this time into a SunSoar body so that he can and will love me for eternity!"
     Faraday sighed quietly. In this Niah was right. To live an eternity with WolfStar would require SunSoar blood to hold him.
     "But it does not solve the problem of Zenith," she tried again.
     Now Niah did face her. "Zenith never existed," she said firmly. "Never. There was only me, waiting to be acknowledged."
     Then her face changed. It lit up, radiating joy and she stared at Faraday as if she were the only meaning in Niah's life.
     Faraday frowned, then realised Niah was staring at a point some distance beyond herself.
     Niah gave a glad cry, picked up her skirts, and rushed past Faraday into WolfStar's arms. "Beloved!"
     Faraday silently cursed. Not only at WolfStar's untimely intrusion - had he appeared thinking that Faraday might persuade Niah to relinquish control of Zenith's body? - but also at Niah's sheer determination. Was Zenith still there? Faraday did not know, and she wondered if StarDrifter's faith that Zenith still existed was warranted.
     Despite her irritation, Faraday composed herself, and faced the lovers.
     Niah was wrapped in WolfStar's arms, locked in a passionate embrace. Faraday raised an eyebrow. Was this love on WolfStar's part, or simple lust? She did not know if he was capable of true love.
     As if reading her thoughts WolfStar raised his face from Niah's and grinned at Faraday. "Again she bears my child," he said, his voice hoarse with what Faraday recognised as triumph. "And this one I shall raise myself, not leave for some dirt-trodden Plough-Keeper to mismanage."
     Niah wriggled against WolfStar's body, such a wanton act that Faraday blushed.
     "What? Here, my love?" WolfStar laughed. "Did I not sate you last night?"
     "A pregnant woman always craves love," Niah murmured, her hands running down WolfStar's body.
     Faraday turned her face aside, unwilling to watch the spectacle Niah was making of herself. And she a former First Priestess!
     Eventually it was WolfStar himself who gently disentangled himself from Niah's embrace. "Now is not the time, my love. I must speak with Faraday."
     Niah murmured, but she let WolfStar go.
     The instant WolfStar was free of her, his entire demeanour changed. He assumed power as others would assume a cloak, his violet eyes darkened and became more intense, his entire bearing more autocratic.
     "What happened to Drago?" he demanded.
     Faraday just stared at him.
     "You were in the Star Gate chamber when Drago killed Orr."
     "I was in the chamber when Orr died," she agreed.
     "Drago had the Rainbow Sceptre."
     Faraday was silent.
     "Didn't he?"
     "I was terrified," Faraday said, her eyes not leaving WolfStar's face. "Terrified by the violence, the terror, the death. I did not notice what he was carrying."
     "You did not notice?"
     You were the one who sent me through Prophecy to die for Tencendor, Faraday thought, her mind closed to his probing. She held his stare. You sent me to die, others released me. I owe you no loyalty.
     WolfStar swallowed his anger. Well, perhaps she had not noticed. "What happened to him, Faraday? Did he step through the Star Gate?"
     "I cannot know exactly what happened, WolfStar. I was so terrified, and some power beyond my knowing was tearing me apart, retransforming me back to this," her hand indicated her own body. "I did not notice where -"
     "Tell me the truth!" WolfStar snarled, his anger strengthened by his fear. Tell me the truth! he raged through her mind.
     He was terrifying, almost beyond control, and so Faraday shivered, and confessed.
     "He ran back through the passageways, WolfStar. Which one I am not certain. But he must be in Tencendor somewhere."
     Wolf Star stared at her. Was she telling the truth? He did not know. Could she withstand his need for the truth? He did not know… and all that he did not know was making WolfStar a very, very frightened man.
     "Ah, bah!" he said, and, in his manner, vanished.
     Niah let out a low cry of disappointment, and threw Faraday a resentful look.
     "Well?" StarDrifter asked Faraday as she walked into his quarters.
     Faraday ignored him for a moment, then sat beside him on the bed. "Niah will not willingly relinquish Zenith's body," she said. "And in this she is aided by WolfStar."
     "You saw WolfStar?"
     Faraday nodded, her expression unreadable.
     "What did he want? What did he say?"
     Faraday hesitated. "Later, StarDrifter, later. For now we must concentrate on finding Zenith."
     "Can you do it?"
     "Yes." Faraday's voice was now much stronger, and she looked StarDrifter unhesitatingly in the eye. "Yes, I can. But persuasion will not work. We must find a stronger means to free your granddaughter."
     "And the sooner the better." StarDrifter sat back, his face creased with worry. "Every day I can see the Niah woman grow stronger. And that baby…"
     Faraday stared at him. "Yes… the baby! StarDrifter, you have given me an idea."
     And she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
     …AM Sixty* Fat Pigs Caelum stood in the cold pre-dawn air, watching the preparations about him. He had slept badly; in truth, he had not slept at all, for fear DragonStar would hunt him down in his dreams. Now his eyes were shadowed, his movements hesitant, and nerves fluttered in his stomach. This would be his first military action. Stars, he thought to himself. I am over forty years old, and by my age my father had battled from coast to coast and won a realm. I? I have but listened to the tales.
     True, he had trained all his life for this moment. Not only his father, but every battle-hardened captain, human or Icarü, had been brought in to give the StarSon lessons. He had spent most mornings of his life at weapon practice.
     And until this moment he had thought it would all be unnecessary. How could Tencendor ever slip back into war, even in his lifetime?
     "I want to see the bastard flayed!" Askam muttered at his side. Before them he could just make out the rising hulk of Kastaleon, although he knew Caelum's Icarü
     vision could see in far more detail. "Is he there, watching for us?"
     "The castle is quiet, Askam. I can see a few guards atop the walls, but even they are more likely asleep than not. No doubt Zared is asleep in his bed, dreaming of how he can persuade the Council to accept his ambition."
     His mouth twisted grimly. "I predict he will awake to something of a surprise. Askam, are the units ready?"
     "Aye, StarSon. They moved into position an hour ago, as stealthy as stalking cats. When will you give the word to send in the forward scouts? It lacks but an hour until dawn, and soon the castle will be rousing."
     Caelum hesitated, the nerves in his stomach flowering into full-blown nausea. But he was determined to show Zared - nay, all Tencendor - that he could captain as well as his father. Forward scouts? No, he would work it better.
     "Keep the scouts back, Askam. We will ride into Kastaleon in full force. Zared does not expect us, and those guards atop the walls are all but asleep."
     "Caelum!" Askam stared aghast at him. "It is surely prudent to send in scouts first? Make sure that -"
     Caelum turned from his contemplation of Kastaleon and snapped at Askam. "I know what I am doing! I can cloak us in enchantment so thick that Zared and his men will not see us. They are not expecting us, are they? That fort is as quiet as a grave. Why waste time on forward scouts?"
     Askam chewed the inside of his cheek. What Caelum said was true enough, and if he could cloak them in enchantment… Askam suddenly smiled at the thought of finding Zared abed, waking to discover the tip of Askam's sword at his throat.
     "As you order, StarSon. Shall we move out immediately?"
     "Wait a moment. I have to cast the enchantment."
     It sickened him even more that he must mask the approach of his units with enchantment, but if it gave them an edge…
     Axis had never fought under cloak of enchantment.
     Caelum thrust the thought aside. He was not his father, and surely Zared had brought sneakiness upon himself. Caelum twisted the ring about on his finger, although he did not need it to show what Song to sing for a cloak of invisibility. He had used the Song only recently and it was fresh in his mind, but the action calmed Caelum's nerves. He ran the Song through his mind, then coldness swept over him.
     The Song had required significantly more power than when he'd last sung it. Why? Caelum remembered WolfStar asking whether he'd noticed a taint in his power. What was happening? Was it just nerves that had made him expend so much more energy on the Song this morning, or was it something else? Something considerably bleaker? What?
     "It is done, Askam. Move them out."
     They had moored their boats four hundred paces north of Kastaleon, hidden both by the darkness and a sharp bend in the river. Over the past hour Askam had sent troops out to surround the castle as best they could without actually being seen. Now, he sent out the order for them to move in.
     He and Caelum mounted their horses and set off down the main approach road. No-one within the castle would be able to see or hear them, and there was no reason to try to be quiet. Askam dug his heels into his horse's flanks, sending the beast skittering across the roadway.
     "Peace, Askam," Caelum said. "We will be there soon enough, and Kastaleon will soon be back under your control."
     "I want to wake Zared with the point of my sword —"
     "Enough, Askam!"
     Askam subsided into silence as they covered the last hundred paces before the castle. There was still no reaction from within, even though soldiers were pouring in through the gate. Askam smiled a little at the thought of Zared's surprise on waking at sword-point.
     It would be very, very good finally to see Zared fail at something.
     Askam wondered if Caelum would strip Zared of his lands for his misdeeds. Would he then receive some? What? Askam wondered… Severin… the gem mines? All his debts could be solved with one signature if he got the gem mines.
     The next moment gem mines were forgotten as they clattered across the bridge and into the castle. Askam shouted orders to his captains, then he and Caelum dismounted.
     "It's too quiet," Caelum said, looking about. "Even with this enchantment someone should have noticed something… bumped into one of us, for Stars' sake! Askam… shouldn't there be more guards about?"
     Before Askam could answer, one of their men ran from the stables. "StarSon! The stables are empty!"
     An awful premonition gripped Caelum. What should he do? No horses… did that mean…?
     "Check the barracks!" he called, and reached for his horse again. Should he mount? What should he order? What would his father have done?
     There was a faint shout from atop the walls. "Dummies, StarSon! There are no men up here!"
     Caelum shot Askam a wild look. What…?
     "The barracks are empty, StarSon!"
     "They've gone!" Askam cried, unnecessarily.
     "Well, at least you have your castle back," Caelum murmured, trying to think it through. Should they secure the castle or ride after Zared? But which way had he gone? How long had he been gone? Caelum cursed. Why hadn't he brought any Icarü with him? Axis would never have made this mistake.
     "Perhaps -" he began, and then the world exploded about them.
     For minutes all he knew was a dreadful shock. He was blown off his feet, his horse beside him. About him were screams and grunts, choking smoke, shrapnel flying through the air, a stifling heat that went on and on and on, and the smell of charcoal and burned flesh.
     Caelum rolled onto his side and gagged. The stench of burning meat filled his entire body and he couldn't get it out. Screams cut through his mind, tore into his soul. Gods! What was going on? Why wouldn't the screamers shut up?
     A hand grasped his shoulder and rolled him over. "StarSon? Are you alright? Oh, praise the StarMan, you live! Get up, my Lord, you have to get up…"
     Caelum allowed himself to be dragged to his feet. Every muscle felt torn, every bone broken, but he found he could walk easily enough. Perhaps he wasn't close to death, after all.
     The hand dragged him forward. Caelum hoped that whoever the hand belonged to knew where he was going, because Caelum could not see a pace in front of him in this red, smoke-filled hell. He bent over and choked again, and found his eyes not a handspan from a corpse that had literally been blown apart. There was red flesh and white bone fragments, but nothing else recognisable.
     His stomach roiled again, and the hand now grasped his hair and hauled him forward.
     They stumbled through the gate - or what was left of it - and fell head-first into the moat.
     The bridge had gone.
     The icy shock of the water brought Caelum to his senses as nothing else could have done. He spluttered and fought his way to the surface, blinking the water out of his eyes. Beside him a foot soldier likewise spluttered - it must have been this man who dragged him out of the inferno -and Caelum looked back to the castle.
     What he saw appalled him. The castle had been blown apart. The outer walls had great holes rent in them through which smoke and flames now poured. The Keep no longer existed - there was only blackness where once that had stood. Men and horses, some of them on fire, careened out of the smoke and flames and fell into the water.
     "Stars!" Caelum whispered, unable to come to terms with what he saw. "Oh… Stars!"
     Eight hundred paces away on a small hill, Theod stared, appalled, at the carnage. How had Caelum ridden into the castle with his entire force without been seen?
     Enchantment, no doubt.
     But why hadn't he sent in forward scouts first? Every war leader was trained to do that. No-one rode blindly with their full force into an unknown situation.
     The charges had been rigged so that they would be set off when the first scout reached the cellars. Yes, a few men would be killed, but the main object had been to destroy the castle and all river boats moored beside it. Caelum would be delayed several days until he could get more boats.
     But the man had taken his entire force inside!
     Neither Theod nor Zared had foreseen - even imagined - such stupidity. Or such carnage.
     How many dead? Theod sat behind his covering bush and gaped, trying to come to terms with the disaster.
     His man-at-arms finally found his voice. "Gods, my Lord! What… what did you pack into those cellars?"
     Theod swallowed and managed to speak. "Wood, nails, pottery, fire powder, eighty-five barrels of resin cracked and left to spread… and sixty-nine fat pigs. It was the pork fat that gave the explosion such potency."
     "But," the man stumbled, "why did Caelum lead his entire force in? Why didn't he send scouts in first?"
     "As any competent captain would have done," Theod said grimly. "Come on, man. We've got to get out of here. Zared needs to know what's happened."
     He grabbed the man's sleeve, and they both ran for their horses.
     Caelum eventually found the strength to swim for the shore, where for an hour he sat shivering and watching the sun rise over the devastation. Survivors slowly stumbled from the castle, fell into the moat, and swam to shore. A few score, perhaps, no more. There had been five hundred men still outside the castle when it had exploded. Some of those had died from rocks and shrapnel catapulted out of the inferno, but most had survived. That left him, what? Six hundred out of the five thousand he'd brought sailing down here. Six hundred.
     His first military action, and he had lost ninety per cent of his command.
     And not one kill for it.
     Even Gorgrael and his enchantments, even the Gryphon falling out of the sky, had not been able to inflict such calamity on Axis.
     And yet Caelum had lost ninety per cent of his command to a meagre force of humans!
     He rose unsteadily to his feet and walked slowly among the groups of men lying on the grass. Most were injured to some degree, some horrendously so, and Caelum knew they would not live. Here and there he stopped and stared, the men he looked at staring back, but he said nothing and eventually he walked on.
     Damn Zared to eternal fire!
     At one group he stopped, then dropped to his knees. "Askam? Askam?"
     His friend lay unconscious in a pool of blood. One of his men sat by him.
     "He lives, StarSon. Just."
     Caelum nodded dumbly. That Askam lived at all amazed him. His left arm had been blown completely off.
     Ik Enemy He lay in bed, trying to find his courage. The Questors had used him for two leaps, each more painful than the last, if that were possible. And today, another one.
     Why did they cause him so much pain? StarLaughter murmured in her sleep by his side, and turned over. Drago glanced at her. She slept peacefully enough, but she did not have to endure…
     Although StarLaughter had, she assured him last night. She and all the children WolfStar had cast to their deaths had been used in this way.
     "Me more than most," she'd murmured comfortingly to Drago last night, "for I was more powerful and more highly trained than any of the children."
     "But they stopped using you…"
     "A long time ago, my love."
     "Why?"
     "Eventually our life force lost its potency. You are so useful because your life force is still so strong. You are only recently come through the Star Gate."
     Drago thought briefly about the baby. He was surely evidence that one's life force ebbed considerably after four thousand years beyond the Star Gate.
     "The Questors find it so easy to follow your trail back," StarLaughter said, and then she paused and smiled at him. "We are so close, my love. Three or four more leaps and we shall be at the threshold of the Star Gate."
     Three or four more leaps. "Will you survive?" Raspu had asked. Drago didn't know. He didn't know if he could endure the pain.
     "They're draining me of all my power," Drago said. "Is all my potential as an Enchanter being burned up? Am ,' being burned up?"
     "Hush, lover," StarLaughter whispered, holding him tight. "They will not drain you completely. They use only a small portion of your potential. When we tumble back through the Star Gate, your blood order will be reversed and you will come into your full potential as an Icarü Enchanter. The Questors have promised, and they will hold by that promise."
     "Are you sure?"
     "Very sure. Why would the Questors lie to you?"
     "I don't know," Drago said slowly.
     "Then trust them."
     The Questors were waiting for them in their circular chamber. Outside shone a world of pure gold, the Hawkchilds spinning about the trees in an agitated cloud, whispering, whispering, whispering.
     "Quick!" Sheol said, her voice brusque. "The interstellar winds are propitious for a giant leap. If we manage this, we may only have to do two more leaps instead of three."
     Sheol and Barzula thrust Drago onto the couch, and then all the Questors were crowding about, their hands heavy on his head and shoulders.
     Mot smiled benevolently. "This won't hurt -"
     "Much," finished Rox, and all five Questors laughed, then bit deep into Drago's soul, deeper than they'd ever gone before.
     Pain seared through him. He arched his back in a silent agony - and felt some part of him dying, burning as though caught in a great conflagration. He'd never felt this so strongly before, but he knew what it was. The Questors were destroying his power. They had lied to him.
     They were destroying him.
     He screamed.
     They leaped.
     Into a world where there was no clear definition between ground and sky, where light and rain melded as one, where there was no colour save grey, no joy, no life, no ease of mind. The children whispered in a grey shadow through the trees - now petrified stone in this greyest of worlds - and StarLaughter sat and crooned to her undead child. The Questors laughed and spoke words of praise and comfort to Drago, and he outwardly let himself be comforted and reassured that yes, they did love and need him and no, they were not engaged in bleeding him to a useless hulk.
     DragonStar SunSoar, Icarü Enchanter, would live again, they cried - and then they all laughed. They howled with laughter, and Drago stumbled away from them, deep into the forest of petrified stone, where he sank down against a tree and put his head in his hands.
     Eventually he sat up and idly fingered the contents of his sack. The coins felt comforting, and Drago let his mind go blank as he sat there on that alien world, watching with unseeing eyes as the strange children leapt and cried amid the fossilised wood, and as StarLaughter sat smiling with the Questors, jamming her useless nipple yet again into the child's mouth.
     And Drago slipped into waking dream.
     He dreamed of the hunt, and he felt the thrill of power surge through him. The forest slid by amid the thunder of hooves, and the hunters whooped with joy, sensing their quarry near. The children - the Hawkchilds - had been loosed and were swooping through the forest. The prey was frantic. Who? Drago wondered. Who?
     The hunt surged forward.
     Yes, everything would be alright. The Questors did not lie to him. They would not drain him completely, and his Icarü powers would be restored when they leaped through the Star Gate.
     And then the entire perspective of the dream changed. Suddenly Drago found himself running through the forest. His heart was pounding, his legs were trembling with fatigue, cold sweat bathed his face and body. His breath rasped through his chest and throat - he couldn't breathe at all! Trees loomed to either side, closing in on him, tightening about him.
     Behind him a clarion sounded. Shrieks of joy reached out to him. The hunters were closer! There was a rustling and roaring in the trees - the Hawkchilds had spotted him!
     Drago fell into thorn bushes and then scrambled out, blood pouring from a dozen deep cuts to his face and arms.
     On the forest path behind him galloped a great black horse with an even darker rider. His armour absorbed light, but the point of his lance reflected it - it was a beam of light, coming straight for Drago's chest.
     He stumbled, and then fell.
     He twisted onto his back, trying to scrabble away, but the horseman had reined his beast to a halt before him and Drago felt the lance in the centre of his chest.
     With every breath he felt the point slide in deeper.
     The pain was horrific.
     " Who are you?" he screamed.
     "I am DragonStar, come back from death," replied the horseman, "and I hunt the Enemy."
     And he leaned his entire weight on the lance.
     Drago lurched into consciousness, his breath rasping into his chest in preparation for a scream.
     But it never came. He managed to control it, but he sat there for a very long time, remembering the feel of that lance as it had sliced through his lungs and heart.
     Tl!
     I here is trouble in Tencendor," Axis fretted, rubbing his hands before the fire. "I can feel it. Caelum… Caelum has encountered trouble."
     "I, too, can feel it," Azhure said, and shook out her thick black hair, letting it stream out in the wind that ran down the Icebear Coast.
     There had been disturbances recently, disturbances they had felt in the very fibre of their beings. In their power.
     With nothing else to blame it on, they thought it a product of the disharmony within Tencendor.
     "But," Azhure glanced at Axis, "we can do nothing. Tencendor is Caelum's to do with as he will. Leave it, Axis, he will manage."
     Across the fire Adamon nodded. "Leave it, Axis."
     Axis sighed. "Yes. I will leave it." He smiled wanly and looked about the group of Star Gods. "Did you have as much trouble leaving your mortal concerns behind?"
     Flulia laughed. "Oh, my! I remember Adamon had to snatch me from my old laundry. I could not bear the way the new laundress starched the sheets."
     Adamon smiled. "I told her that a god had no business amid the washing. Flulia became quite angry, as I recall. She actually stamped her foot."
     Everyone laughed, and Pors leaned forward. "I chased the brown-legged frogs of Bogle Marsh through my dreams for a thousand years after I achieved my place with Adamon and Xanon. I missed them desperately. What you and Azhure are going through, Axis, is nothing unusual."
     Axis' smile faded a little. "Then pray I do not fret at you for the next thousand years."
     There was quiet as the gods stared into the flames of the fire, remembering their individual experiences on the journey from mortal to immortal, then Adamon spoke up.
     "There is good reason why I have called us all here together this night. Xanon and I," he took his wife's hand, "are worried. Look!"
     Adamon threw his free hand over the fire in a sudden motion. Instantly stars became visible in the flames -comets, solar systems, galaxies. Axis thought it was like looking into the Star Gate, save that the lure of the Star Dance was mute here.
     "Look," Adamon said again, but now his voice had lost its urgency, and was soothing, hypnotic. "Look."
     His hand swirled over the fire again, and then yet again, and the flames roared higher. Every galaxy was exquisite in its detail, every movement of the stars faultlessly performed.
     "Beautiful," Azhure murmured.
     "Beautiful," Xanon echoed, "save here," her finger pointed, "and here, and here."
      As her fingers moved, the flames danced and what they revealed made the others, save Adamon who had seen this already, gasp with horror.
     Spreading through the universe, like a thin trail of blight, was a black shadow. It was as yet only tiny, and hardly noticeable - the others might well have missed it if it had not been for Xanon - but…
     "It is coming directly for us!" whispered Nors, appalled.
     "For the Star Gate," Adamon said. "Yes."
     "How long has this been visible?" Axis asked.
      "For less than a day," Xanon replied. "Adamon and I noticed it last night."
     "It's moving towards us with frightening speed," her husband said. "Look, this was where it was when first we noticed it, and then, while we watched, it leapt forward, through this galaxy, and this, then came to rest here."
     "What is it?" Azhure twisted her hair nervously into a knot. "Is it the children?"
     "Partly," Adamon said. "They come with it. We can hear their whispers louder than ever before. But they are not driving it. They are not the power behind it."
     "Well… what «s?" Axis asked. He remembered how he'd felt when Jayme had first told him about the invading ghostmen from the north. Then he'd had a premonition of disaster. But that was nothing compared to the foreboding that now swept through him.
     Adamon shook his head. "I do not know. I have no knowledge of what it is. I can feel its power, but I do not understand it. What is worse, see how it has blacked out an as yet tiny portion of the stars? Axis, do you not feel what that has done to you?"
     Axis stared into the flame-vision, then his entire body went rigid.
     "Axis?" Azhure murmured, and laid a hand on his arm.
     "By the Stars themselves," Axis said hoarsely, "it has cut out the sound of the Star Dance from that area!"
     "Yes," Adamon said. "And if it comes closer, it will block out yet more of the Star Dance. What if, the heavens forbid, it blocks out all of the Star Dance?"
     Each present was silent, appalled. If that happened, then all power based on the use of the Star Dance would cease. All Icarü magic and enchantment would wink out of existence.
     The Star Gods would become mortal.
     "What is it?" Pors fretted. "What is it?"
     Adamon shook his head helplessly. "I cannot know, I have seen nothing like this before. Nothing! I do not even have a name for it!"
     "Well, I do," a voice put in from the wastes behind him, and the gods turned about, startled.
     WolfStar SunSoar stood there, a black cloak wrapped about his body, despair on his face.
     "They are the TimeKeeper Demons," he said. "And they are coming for what was stolen from them."
     There was utter silence for the space of several breaths.
     Then Adamon rose to his feet. "And how is it that you know of them, WolfStar SunSoar? Have your misdeeds beyond death yet to impact on Tencendor? Do your sins bring these TimeKeeper Demons to ravage «s?"
     "No, Adamon. I know of the TimeKeepers, but, for once," he managed a small grin, "I am not responsible. May I sit?"
     Adamon hesitated, then nodded, sitting himself.
     WolfStar sat as close to the fire as he could, wrapping his cloak tightly about him.
     "The TimeKeeper Demons are trouble," he said. "Trouble loose in the universe. Catastrophe if they break through the Star Gate."
     "You met them beyond the Star Gate?" Axis asked. "Are they coming for yo «?"
     WolfStar shook his head. "No, and no, although I think that with them they bring the children I threw into the Star Gate. I became aware of the TimeKeeper Demons in my time beyond the Star Gate, but their exact nature, name and purpose I discovered only after I had returned.
     "First of all I should explain who, or rather, what, the TimeKeeper Demons are. They are a harmonious group of six demons, each of whom roams - hunts -through a particular period of the day or night. They are known as the TimeKeepers because no-one keeps such assiduous track of the passing hours as do they. There is Mot, the Demon of Hunger. He hunts at dawn. Barzula, the Demon of Tempest, hunts at midmorning. Sheol, Demon of Despair, hunts at midafternoon. Dusk belongs to Raspu, the Demon of Pestilence. And the night belongs to Rox, the Demon of Terror. They hunt for souls, for sustenance, and they prefer to call themselves the Questors. They quest, but always hunger, tempest, despair, pestilence and terror ride in their wake."
     "You said there were six," said Narcis.
     "The sixth is the reason the other five TimeKeepers have been battling for tens of thousands of years to find their way through the Star Gate into Tencendor. In their own way the five I have described are terrible enough, but the sixth is the worst of all. He is their leader, their father, their saviour. They are nothing without him."
     WolfStar paused and stared into the fire, but no-one spoke to disturb him. Finally he lifted his head.
     "His name is Qeteb, the Destruction that wastes at midday. He is the Midday Demon. The others will nibble at your soul, but Qeteb will steal it and rape it for eternity."
     "Qeteb is here?" Adamon said. "He is somewhere in Tencendor? That's why they are coming?"
     "In a manner of speaking, Adamon. But let me tell the story. The TimeKeeper Demons, Qeteb among them, once ravaged free on a world far, far from here. There was a race on that world who were determined to break their power - and this they did. One day they trapped Qeteb -I can only imagine the courage and fortitude it took to do this - and they dismembered him. I talk not of a bodily dismemberment, but a dismemberment of his life, so to speak. They separated warmth, breath, movement and soul from his flesh, and they fled with them. They fled through the universe, using craft that had been designed for interstellar travel -"
     "They used craft^ Xanon interrupted. "How… cumbersome."
     WolfStar shrugged. "They had a different kind of power to what we know, Xanon. Well, they fled through the universe on a journey that itself took many tens of thousands of our years. It ended here, on Tencendor. They crashed through the barriers that separated Tencendor from the universe -"
     "Creating the Star Gate!" Adamon cried. "Yes, creating the Star Gate. Their four craft, for they used a different craft for each of Qeteb's life parts, crashed into Tencendor, blasting out the craters that filled with the waters of the Sacred Lakes."
     "So the Lakes take their power from the remnants of the craft of these ancient ones?" Azhure said.
     "Yes, although the craft are very much intact. The creatures within them died, but buried beneath the Lakes are what the craft have become in order to protect Qeteb's life parts."
     "So how is it," Zest asked, "that these Demons approach now? Is it just that their journey has taken many tens of thousands of years, and is only now reaching its culmination… or is it…"
     "Something else," WolfStar said. "You have seen the path of darkness they have left behind them in the past day. You have deduced how they block out the Star Dance as they draw closer - we have all felt a diminution in our abilities over the past weeks. They are now moving faster than they ever have before. I believe there is a very good reason for that speed… and for all of us to fear their imminent arrival."
     "What reason?" Axis hissed. His hand groped momentarily at his side, as if he still had a sword there.
     "I think Drago is leading them to the Star Gate," WolfStar said directly.
     For the second time that night there was utter silence.
     "What?" Axis whispered.
     "Drago?" Azhure said, as ashen-faced as Axis.
     "That filth, curse the day he was conceived, has murdered Orr and leapt through the Star Gate."
     Murdered Orr?
     "But I don't understand," said Axis. "Drago has no powers. The Star Gate would have killed him. And even if he did survive and find his way to these Demons, how is it that Drago has the power to catapult them through the stars like that?"
     WolfStar looked Axis in the eye. "Because his father did not have the foresight to hide the Rainbow Sceptre where it could never be found! In a room in Sigholt, by the Stars! You might as well have hung it on a pole outside the front gate!"
     There was instant uproar about the fire. Axis leapt to his feet, yelling at WolfStar. Azhure jumped up with him, hanging on to his arm, trying to calm him, yet sending a myriad of questions towards WolfStar at the same time. Silton and Narcis were also on their feet, shouting not only at WolfStar, but at the entire heavens in general.
     "Be quiet!" Adamon thundered, and silence fell upon the company.
     "Be silent," he repeated. "Now, I am going to ask WolfStar a series of questions, and I want no-one interrupting." He shot Axis a furious glare and he subsided, Azhure at his side.