Читать книгу Sinner - Sara Douglass - Страница 14

In unconscious imitation of the ancient madness of WolfStar SunSoar, the Ferryman stood wrapped in his ruby cloak at the lip of the Star Gate. Even though the Icarii had reclaimed the Star Gate, few visited there except on ceremonial occasions, and Orr was alone in the circular chamber.

Blue light chased about the dome, and the sound of the universe roared through, demanding, seductive, entreating.

Orr ignored all of it. “There … again!” he whispered, and trembled. “Again!”

There was a sound beyond that of the Star Dance, beyond that of the interstellar winds of the universe. A whisper, but a whisper of many voices.

Maddened voices. Demanding voices.

Orr shivered. What was it, this ravening pack of voices? Who were they? Why did they cry so?

What did they want?

“And again,” he said, his hands tightening about his cloak. “Who are they to disturb the peace of the stars so?”

“They claim to be my judgment, friend Ferryman.”

Orr jumped so badly he almost fell into the Star Gate. A hand closed about his arm, steadying him.

Orr turned to see who had surprised him, then squealed in terror and stumbled back several paces. “WolfStar!”

Was anyone safe about the Star Gate with this renegade present?

“Peace, Ferryman,” WolfStar said. “I am not the same madman who cast so many children to their deaths.”

Orr was not so sure. Could four thousand years abate such madness? WolfStar may have assisted Axis SunSoar defeat Gorgrael, but Orr’s fear of him was still strong. He carefully backed away yet further.

WolfStar ignored him and stepped over to the Star Gate. Its pulsing blue light washed over his face, turning his copper curls almost as violet as his eyes. For several minutes he stood silent, tense, then his shoulders relaxed slightly and he gave Orr a small, humourless smile.

“They call themselves my judgment,” he said again, “but they are yet far away. We are safe. They will never find the Star Gate again.”

“They?” Orr said. “They? I hear voices. Many voices. And they are angry voices. There is …” He searched for the right word. “There is a pack of them.”

WolfStar’s eyes narrowed. “A ‘pack’, Ferryman?”

“They hunt,” Orr said very quietly, beginning to understand. “They hunt for you.” He was silent briefly, turning a sudden thought over in his mind. “They are those you murdered.”

WolfStar’s mouth twisted slightly and he looked back into the Star Gate. “Yes,” he said. “They yearn for my blood. And perhaps I do not blame them. But I am safe. They do not have the power or the skills to find their way back through the Star Gate. They will drift for eternity, calling my name.”

He did not seem distressed at the thought of what he’d condemned the children to.

“I have never heard them before.” Orr walked closer to the Star Gate, but he still kept a prudent distance from WolfStar.

WolfStar shrugged slightly. “They knew I would die eventually, and that – as all Enchanter-Talons – I would step through the Star Gate for my eternal rest. So they drift on the interstellar winds, looking for me. This is the first time they’ve drifted this close to the Star Gate.”

“But you evaded them before. You stepped back through into this world.”

“Yes, I did. When I died, and then stepped through, the children were in a far part of the universe, utterly lost. Before they drifted back my way I found the knowledge in death that returned me to life.”

That was only a very mild lie on WolfStar’s part. In truth, the power that had allowed him to return had actively sought him out.

Orr accepted WolfStar’s words. He had no doubt the Enchanter never wanted to re-encounter the hundreds of children – or his own wife – whom he had hurled to their deaths.

There was a movement in the shadow of one of the archways that circled the chamber, and both WolfStar and Orr turned towards it.

Caelum SunSoar, StarSon of Tencendor, stepped into the light. “Well, lonely wolf of the night,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on WolfStar, “it has been over forty years since you peered into my cradle and then crushed MorningStar’s head for the temerity of witnessing. Forty years for you to work your mischief. I know of you, WolfStar. You can accomplish a great deal in forty years.”

WolfStar sat down on the low wall of the Star Gate, unperturbed by Caelum’s abrupt appearance. His golden wings spread out to either side of his body, and he tilted his head quizzically, looking Caelum up and down. The intervening years have grown a great man, he decided, and power sits him easily.

And yet WolfStar wondered if Caelum had yet learned the power it would take to best him. He grinned. He doubted it.

“Well?” Caelum snapped, irritated by WolfStar’s demeanour.

“Well, what?”

WolfStar!

All three in the chamber heard it. WolfStar leapt off the wall and across the chamber in a single bound, and Caelum’s eyes narrowed. So frightened, WolfStar? Why? Why?

We’re coming, we’re coming … we hunger …

“They’re lying,” WolfStar said, recovering his poise. “Bluffing. They cannot come through.”

There was a sound in the chamber. Unusual, but rather like … a flock of birds sweeping through the sky.

Caelum locked eyes with Orr momentarily, sharing knowledge, then turned his gaze back to WolfStar. “And how can you be so sure? If you could step back through, then why can’t they?”

Orr faded back underneath one of the arches. He wanted nothing to do with the confrontation between these two.

WolfStar stared at Caelum before he answered. “You want answers, StarSon? Then I will give you some. But not here.”

“Not here where they can hear you, WolfStar? What is it that you have brought upon Tencendor now, renegade?”

Caelum took a step forward, but WolfStar only smiled at the implied threat. No-one could touch him. Except, perhaps …

“I have a fancy to see my grandchildren and a fancy to see what you have made of Sigholt,” he said, forcing his mind away from what else might be accompanying the children.

We’re coming, we’re coming … we hunger … And pray all gods in creation it is only you who shout my name!

“WolfStar! I demand answers! Do you think I am going to stand aside while your troubles tear Tencendor apart yet again?”

“Sigholt!” said WolfStar. “I will meet you and yours at Sigholt.”

“When?”

“Soon. A day. Wait.”

And then he vanished.

Caelum took a deep breath. Stars, what was going on? He peered into the Star Gate, becoming one with the Star Dance briefly, then shook himself and looked at Orr, still secreted in the shadows. “Have you heard these voices before?”

Orr shook his head. “Today was the first time. StarSon, they are not strong, and …”

“And?”

“And, perhaps to be expected. WolfStar murdered some two hundred and twelve Enchanters, including StarLaughter and the child she carried. I can well imagine that their souls have drifted four thousand years seeking vengeance. Pray their vengeance is directed only at WolfStar.”

“I shall throw the Enchanter through myself if it will appease their need,” Caelum said. “I think I will ask WingRidge to mount a guard here. I would not like us to be … surprised.”

“No need,” said the Ferryman. “I shall stand watch.” WolfStar stood before the gate. The gate to the Maze, not the Star Gate. Its wooden doors were closed – thankfully. WolfStar hoped to be far, far away if ever they opened.

Did anything else follow those voices towards the Star Gate?

His hands drifted over the strange inscription in the stone archway surrounding the gate. It had taken him many years to understand this language. The language of the ancients, or the Enemy, as their enemies referred to them.

The Enemy that had crashed through from the universe so many millennia ago, creating the Star Gate. Leaving behind its deadly cargo.

He silently cursed, and concentrated on the inscription. Yes, there, there and there. StarSon. As it had been for the past forty years. For three thousand years before that the inscription had only mentioned the vague term “Crusader”, but a year after the birth of Caelum the Maze had changed its mind and substituted “StarSon” for “Crusader”.

Now the symbol for StarSon trumpeted forth, again, and again, leaping out from the gate’s inscription. This time the Maze was certain.

Well might it be. It was the Maze which had taught WolfStar the Prophecy of the Destroyer, and then commanded him to write it down and do all in his power to ensure its eventual realisation. After he defeated Gorgrael, Axis had asked WolfStar if the Prophecy was nothing but idiot gabble for his own amusement. Then WolfStar had hedged. He’d said that certain knowledges had come to him beyond the Star Gate that made his return imperative – true enough. However, it was not the Prophecy itself that had persuaded him back through the Star Gate, but rather the Prophecy’s true author. The Maze.

The Prophecy had a very clear and direct purpose, and it had nothing at all to do with protecting Tencendor from Gorgrael.

Its only purpose had been to breed the champion the Maze needed. The Crusader.

WolfStar had always assumed that the Crusader would be Axis, but the Maze had never named him. Instead it had chosen Axis and Azhure’s son Caelum.

WolfStar nodded. Of course. He should have realised that the Crusader would need both Axis’ and Azhure’s blood.

Then a chill swept through WolfStar. If the Crusader had been born and was now named by the Maze, it meant the hour of need must be nigh.

What else followed those voices towards the Star Gate?

He’d had three thousand years to prepare himself for this moment, and yet WolfStar wished he had three score more three thousand years.

StarSon! StarSon! StarSon! the inscription about the Maze screamed. Aid me now!

WolfStar turned very slightly so he could see the row upon row of seated birdmen and women behind him. There were hundreds of them, seated in orderly ranks, slowly swaying from side to side in perfect unison as they regarded the gate with part reverence, part fear, part love.

“Are you true?” WolfStar asked softly.

“True to the StarSon,” replied the hundreds of voices.

On each of their chests glowed the golden knot.