Читать книгу Starman: Book Three of the Axis Trilogy - Sara Douglass - Страница 20

Faraday and Embeth travelled slowly to Tare, seeing only a few sheep and pig herders along the way. Faraday stayed only two days in Tare. Embeth pleaded with her to stay longer, but memories of Axis were too vivid, and Faraday wanted to escape them as soon as she could. Besides, the further east she went, the more persistent became the feeling that she should begin to plant the seedlings from the Enchanted Wood. So Faraday bid a tearful Embeth farewell and set off for the Silent Woman Woods with her two donkeys.

This was the first time Faraday had ever been alone, and, day by day, loneliness became an increasingly crushing burden that she could scarcely endure. Every night, as she sat by her solitary fire, Faraday had to fight not to give in to tears.

“Mother!” she muttered to herself one night. “You will have to spend months planting out the seedlings in the lonely reaches of western Tencendor. Will you fret like a baby for its teat the whole way?”

On the morning of her third day out from Tare, Faraday’s isolation was relieved by the unexpected company of three Icarii Enchanters; but even their company proved a two-edged sword.

The Enchanters hailed her from the air, then dropped down to speak with her. Faraday recognised them from the eight days she had spent with Axis in Carlon – BrightStar FeatherNest, StarShine EvenHeart and PaleStar SnapWing. They chatted an hour or more, the Enchanters wondering why she was travelling eastwards so alone.

“I merely play my part in the Prophecy,” Faraday said, and the Enchanters nodded. They knew Faraday was Tree Friend.

The Enchanters were on their way back to Carlon from the Bracken Ranges where they had been involved in the recovery of the Icarii cities, and they extended to Faraday a gracious invitation to stay with the Icarii should she pass through the Ranges – or the Minaret Peaks, as they called the ranges now.

Faraday enjoyed the company of the three Enchanters, but was nevertheless glad when they made their goodbyes and flew west towards Tare. Their presence recalled too vividly the false happiness of those eight days in Carlon and, in the end, they reminded her all too clearly of what she’d lost.

On the afternoon of the fifth day out from Tare, as Faraday approached the Silent Woman Woods, she was gripped by such a black and all-consuming depression she had to consciously force herself on. For the past two days she’d lost all will to eat, and the only reason she had kept moving was because she knew that if she stayed in camp she would roll up in her blankets one night and never wake to see the dawn.

Some fifty paces from the dark tree line, Faraday stood, leaning on one of the donkeys for support, gazing blankly at the Woods. The wind was cold, biting through her cloak, but Faraday scarcely felt it. She was tired, very tired, and she tried to decide whether or not she would camp outside the Woods and enter in the morning, or risk walking through the trees in the darkness. Already the sun was starting to sink into the clouds on the western horizon.

It was the donkeys who decided her. The animal she leaned on put one hoof forward, then another, forcing Faraday to take a step, while the one behind her butted the woman’s back with its head, pushing her forward yet another step. So, haltingly, the donkeys hauled, pushed and shoved her into the Silent Woman Woods.

The trees comforted Faraday the instant she stepped beneath their shelter. When Jack had brought her here so long ago the trees had shown her a vision of what she believed at the time to be Axis’ death. That vision had horrified her, but the Song the trees now sang for her as she walked down the path towards the Keep was one of joy and compassion, haunting in its beauty yet passionate and full-blooded.

As soon as Faraday heard the Song a smile lit her face and her loneliness and depression dissipated. Within fifty paces her steps became light and she let go the mane of the donkey she had been holding.

“You are beautiful!” she cried, clasping her hands and swinging about in a full circle of delight. “Beautiful!”

One day, she thought rapturously, much of eastern Tencendor will sing like this!

When, as BattleAxe, Axis, his Axe-Wielders and Brother Gilbert had ridden through these woods they had found them dark and close, sharp branches blocking the path to scratch faces and hands, roots humping out of the ground to snag at their horses’ hooves. Axis may have been the StarMan, but at that time he was still encased by the lies of the Seneschal, and he was accompanied by the loathsome Gilbert who would never break free of the lies that consumed him. The Woods had only allowed the four men passage after they had seized their axes within a hundred paces of entering them.

But the woman who now skipped down the path towards the Keep was Faraday Tree Friend, beloved of the Mother and of all creatures and beings of the Sacred Grove. So the trees sang joyously for her and the Woods appeared as spacious and as full of light and as mysteriously inviting as the Enchanted Woods themselves.

Axis and his companions had ridden for almost a day to reach the Keep, but Faraday thought she had been walking through the Woods for only an hour or so before she saw the golden glow of Cauldron Lake through the trees.

She paused in wonder at the Lake’s edge, leaning down to run her fingers through such magical golden water that left her hand as dry as before she had dipped it in. A quarter of the way around the Lake sat the pale, yellow-stoned Keep, and Faraday smiled, for a warm glow gleamed from the windows and the door stood invitingly open. Even from this distance she felt that the Keep not only expected her, but yearned for her company.

At the Keep Faraday unpacked and unsaddled the donkeys and they trotted around the back, there, no doubt, to find a warm stable and oats already waiting for them. Faraday stepped into the Keep and stopped dead, breathless with wonder.

Both Timozel and Axis had described its interior to her, and Faraday knew that what the Keep presented to her was vastly different to the interior it had shown the men. The huge, circular room was furnished comfortably with deep armchairs and couches, upholstered and cushioned in jewelled fabrics; tables and chairs, bookcases, chests and cabinets of rich amberwood; lamps and candlesticks of shining brass; patchwork comforters and patterned rugs scattered ankle-deep. To one side was a four-poster bed with a crazily stitched quilt thrown over it and feather pillows piled at its head. On the other side of the chamber a kitchen range glowed, the kettle only just beginning to sing, and a table set for one and laden with food in front of it. In the very centre of the room a well-stoked fire crackled cheerfully on a round hearth, the copper hood above drawing away all traces of smoke. To one side stood a large box piled high with pine cones and knots of apple wood.

Faraday wandered further into the Keep, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide, and felt utterly and completely loved.

For a week the Keep comforted and kept her. It was a time of deep healing, a time when she replenished her courage and fortitude. When she’d arrived that first night Faraday had eaten, then crept into bed fully clothed – so tired she could not be bothered disrobing – and had not awoken for almost eighteen hours. When she did awake it was to find that she was wearing a warm flannel nightgown and pink bedsocks, and that the kettle once again sang atop the range; next to it sat a deep pan of scrambled eggs and bacon warming for her breakfast. Toast and milk and pats of rich golden butter on thick white china plates sat on the table.

That day Faraday had done nothing but eat and sleep – a fresh meal ready for her whenever she awoke from a nap – but subsequent days she had spent in the Sacred Grove and Ur’s nursery.

Today, the eighth since she had arrived, Faraday intended to spend luxuriating in the comfort that the Keep provided her. Perhaps she would explore the upper levels and read, if she could, some of the ancient Icarii texts that Ogden and Veremund said were secreted there. Faraday knew she would have to leave the Keep soon. She had now learned almost all the names of the seedlings in Ur’s enchanting nursery, and once the last one was committed to memory she would resume her journey east – and begin to plant the Enchanted Wood back into this world.

But for now Faraday squirmed deeper into the armchair and wriggled her toes with sensual abandon before the fire. She slipped into a doze, only barely aware of the Keep about her.

Suddenly she blinked and snapped awake.

She could feel Azhure very, very close.

“Azhure?” Faraday said, rubbing her eyes fully awake. “Azhure, is that you?”

She was puzzled, but not in the least afraid.

Almost as depressed as Faraday had been when she arrived at the Silent Woman Woods, Azhure asked Hesketh, the captain of the palace guard, to row her across to Spiredore. Azhure wanted nothing more than to escape the confines of the palace at Carlon. The royal apartments, so beautiful and comforting when she had shared them with Axis, were now lonely and cold.

StarDrifter had been a constant companion. He was, apart from FreeFall who was already on the Island of Mist and Memory, the most senior of the Icarii present in southern Tencendor and, as such, was involved in much of the discussions and decisions regarding the Icarii nation’s move south. As grandfather to Caelum and to the unborn twins and as a powerful Enchanter, StarDrifter also spent time training all three of Axis and Azhure’s children. Those hours, in the evening or early morning, when StarDrifter came to the Jade Chamber to sit by Azhure’s side, place his hands on her swollen belly and sing to the twins, were uncomfortable ones for Azhure. She would recall Axis’ plea that if anything should happen to him she should marry StarDrifter, and Azhure wondered if Axis had said anything to his father. StarDrifter’s face and thoughts gave nothing away and always he behaved with the utmost politeness when he was so intimately close to her, yet Azhure could never quite dismiss the thought that StarDrifter somehow hoped that one day his hands might touch her more intimately yet.

All in all, Azhure thought as she drifted across Grail Lake, it would be a pleasure to spend a relaxing afternoon in Spiredore. There was the possibility that WolfStar might appear, but Azhure did not particularly want to see him, and she thought that if she made her feelings known to Spiredore when she first stepped inside, then WolfStar might stay – or be kept – away.

Azhure carried Caelum with her, for over these past days she had not spent as much time with her delightful son as she had wished. The small row boat was also packed with the warm bodies of seven of the Alaunt hounds, including Sicarius. They had padded silently after her down the corridors of the palace and had leaped equally silently, but with discernible determination, into the row boat, eliciting a string of curses from Hesketh – who had then, embarrassed, begged Azhure’s forgiveness.

Poor man, Azhure thought as they neared Spiredore’s pier, he looks to be in the grip of an even blacker mood than me. A week ago, Yr and the rest of the Sentinels had disappeared and Azhure, as Axis and everyone else close to the Prophecy, had worried about their abrupt and secretive departure. Perhaps Hesketh, deeply emotionally involved with Yr, had worried the worst, and Azhure thought she might ask him to share a midday meal with her one day. Perhaps he only needed to talk.

Perhaps, Azhure decided as Hesketh helped her out of the boat, the Alaunt bounding across the grass towards Spiredore, he only needs Yr.

The interior of the tower was cool and pleasant, and Azhure smiled as she leaned against the closed door. The seven Alaunt were sniffing out every secret corner they could find, and Azhure thought they might find a lot in this most secretive of towers.

Are we going to the rooftop, Mama?

Azhure could detect the faint undertone of worry in Caelum’s thoughts. No doubt her son, like herself, had some extraordinarily unpleasant memories of the rooftop of Spiredore.

“Another day, Caelum, but not today. I am too weary to climb all the way to the top.”

Then what will we do?

Azhure hesitated. She had thought about this as she lay sleepless in her bed last night. Close to tears from her loneliness in the empty bed, feeling the indifference of the babies within her, Azhure had decided that she would start to experiment with the tower today. See the extent of its power.

She hoped she was doing the right thing. What if she did get lost?

She halted at the foot of the first staircase, her hand resting on the newel post, and called the Alaunt to her.

As they gathered about her skirts, Azhure again remembered WolfStar’s words.

Decide where you want to go before you start to climb the stairs, and then the stairs will take you to that place.

“I want to go to a place where I will find some comfort,” she said, then she started to climb.

The feeling that Azhure was close was now so strong that Faraday leaned forward in the armchair, balancing on its edge, ready to leap to her feet at any moment.

“Azhure? Azhure? Where are you?”

Azhure? Azhure? Where are you?

Azhure stopped climbing the instant she heard Faraday’s voice, twisting and turning to peer into the heights above her. The stairs wound between crazily-canted balconies as far as she could see, and Faraday could be anywhere up there.

“Faraday?” she called. “Faraday?” What was Faraday doing in Spiredore?

Azhure gathered her skirts in her free hand and climbed as fast as she could, Caelum going red in the face as her arm squeezed tight about him. Sicarius opened his mouth and bayed, his cries echoing through the infinite interior of Spiredore.

Faraday heard Azhure call and now she did leap to her feet. “Azhure!” She thought she could hear the faint baying of hounds.

Breathless with excitement and effort, Azhure reached a wide landing. She paused then spun about, frowning. There were no more stairs leading upwards! What was this? A dead end?

“Faraday?” she cried. “I cannot find you. Can you hear me? Where are you?”

She stepped back down the stairs, certain she had missed her way.

Faraday heard footsteps on the circular iron stairway that wound into the heights of the Keep, and she rushed to its foot, laughing in excitement, grasping the iron railing and staring upwards.

A great pale hound suddenly leapt down the curve of the steps and brushed past her, followed an instant later by six others. This was followed by a stillness on the stairs, but Faraday could hear the faint fall of footsteps above her.

“Azhure!” and the next moment Azhure, her face alive with amazement and happiness, stepped down into her arms.

Faraday hugged her tight, laughing delightedly, and for the next few moments the women did nothing but laugh and cry.

“How did you get here?” Faraday eventually asked.

“Where am I?” Azhure asked at the same time. How did I get here? Can Spiredore transfer me from site to site as Axis’ Enchanter powers can? Spire … Door?

“We are in the Silent Woman Keep, Azhure. Come, sit by the fire, and we will discover this mystery in comfort.” She linked her arm with Azhure’s. “See! Already the Keep has laid out tea for us.”

As Faraday led her across to a couch, Azhure glanced about the room, noting its comfort and welcome – and also noting that seven bowls of food had been laid out beside the kitchen range. The Alaunt already had their noses buried deep.

Azhure quickly told Faraday of the mysterious powers of Spiredore.

“These magical Keeps must be linked,” Faraday said, then smiled. “But let us not waste our time talking of the Keeps. Come, let me cuddle Caelum.”

Caelum held out his arms, almost as delighted to see Faraday as his mother was. This was the woman who had healed his Mama when all others had wrung their hands uselessly.

As Faraday cuddled the baby to her, speaking softly to him, Azhure turned to the low table near the couch and poured their tea. Here we sit as if we were but simple housewives, she thought, talking babies and recipes, and no-one would guess the magic that surrounds us or the shared love for one man that has brought us both so much grief.

The Alaunt had finished their meal and drifted back to the fire, stretching out before it, completely encircling the two women.

“Azhure,” Faraday finally said, not looking up from Caelum as he nestled in her lap. “Axis. Did he …?”

“He married me that afternoon,” Azhure said, making her voice as gentle as she could, yet knowing each word would cut straight to Faraday’s heart.

“Ah,” Faraday said, and she looked up. “I am glad.” Then, utterly surprisingly, a radiant smile broke out across her face. “Glad for all the hearts he must have broken over the years that someone has finally won him.”

“Yes. Look, he gave me this ring.”

She had wondered if Faraday would recognise it, but Faraday merely exclaimed over its beauty. Yet after a moment she frowned.

“It has the feel of power to it.”

“It last belonged, so I am told, to a woman known as the Enchantress, the mother of the Icarii, Charonite and the Acharite races.” Azhure’s mouth twisted sourly. “Now people call me the Enchantress, but I do not know if I like it. I hope that I am not to be submerged in the personality of a woman fifteen thousand years dead.”

Faraday patted her hand reassuringly. “I can only see Azhure sitting here before me, not the ghost of some long-dead sorceress.”

“Hmm. WolfStar told me not to fear that the ring would seek to control me. He said that it sought my hand because it had found one fit to wear it. It has, apparently, come home to me. He seemed to fear it, though.”

She looked up and started at Faraday’s shocked white face.

“WolfStar?”

“Oh,” Azhure said, remembering that Faraday did not know of Azhure’s connection to WolfStar. “Listen,” and she proceeded to tell her of all that had happened since Faraday had left Carlon.

“And so you will leave for the Island of Mist and Memory soon?” Faraday eventually asked.

“Within the week, I think. I cannot wait to find out what secrets it has to offer me.” Azhure told Faraday about the fall of Jervois Landing and Axis’ march north with his army. “And I think a trip to the island will comfort me. I find the palace a lonely place now that Axis is absent.” She paused. “The Sentinels have disappeared, too.”

Faraday put her cup down and looked at Azhure sharply. “The Sentinels have gone? What do you mean? Gone with Axis?”

“No. They disappeared the day before Axis left to march north. No-one knows where they are. No-one.”

Disturbed, Faraday thought for a few minutes. Had she upset them so badly with her recriminations and tears that they had vanished? She had been sure that the Sentinels would stay with Axis.

Azhure remembered Dru-Beorh’s report. “And there is further worrying news, Faraday. Moryson and Gilbert have been seen travelling east. Be careful. I cannot but think that they might prove a danger to you.”

And a warning is the best I can do for her, Azhure thought, if Axis thinks an armed escort would be inappropriate.

Faraday, still concerned over the disappearance of the Sentinels, brushed the matter of Moryson and Gilbert aside. “I cannot think that either of them would do much except rant at me, Azhure. But thank you for the warning. Now,” she handed Caelum back to his mother and smiled. “I have a wonder to show you and wondrous people for you to meet. But I think you must leave the hounds here by the fire.”

As they’d sat talking the idea had slowly grown in Faraday’s mind that she might take Azhure to see the Sacred Grove. She wondered if the Horned Ones, or even the Mother, might object, but in the end Faraday decided that it was her decision.

“Come,” she said, standing, and stretched out her hand. Carefully stepping over the sleeping hounds, Faraday led Azhure and her son into the Sacred Grove.

Both Azhure and Caelum were transfixed with wonder as Faraday’s power then the emerald light of the Mother surrounded them.

Mama! Caelum cried, leaning forward and stretching his hands out as far as he could.

Azhure’s arms tightened automatically about her son but otherwise she paid him no attention. While healing Azhure’s back, Faraday had described to her the sensation of walking through the emerald light then watching it gradually shift and change until it resolved itself into the trees and sky of the Sacred Grove.

Now Azhure experienced it for herself.

Without knowing exactly when the transition took place, Azhure found herself wandering down a path carpeted with soft pine needles, trees to either side of her, the sky above filled with stars reeling through their eternal dance. She stared at them, thinking she could actually see them move.

Finally lowering her eyes, Azhure glanced to one side and saw that Faraday wore a gown such as she had never seen before. It reminded her of the emerald light as it had darkened and shifted and changed; when Faraday walked, the colours in the gown shimmered from emerald to blue to violet to brown, then back to emerald again.

Faraday herself seemed changed as well. Far more powerful, far more sure, far, far more lovely.

“Are you certain that I should step these paths?” Azhure asked, unsure about her reception here. “The Avar refused to accept me, and their Banes,” she thought of the coolness Barsarbe had consistently displayed towards her, “might be furious that I now visit their Sacred Grove. They did not like my violence.”

But Faraday did not seem perturbed. “I will accept responsibility,” she said. “Now, hush. See? We enter the Grove itself. You will know soon enough how the Sacred Horned Ones regard you.”

When Faraday had pulled Axis into the Grove to witness Raum’s transformation she had felt almost instantly the resentment that emanated from the trees. They had tolerated him, for Faraday’s sake, but they certainly did not like him. But Faraday felt none of this now; instead she experienced the love and exultation that usually enveloped her when she stepped the paths to the Grove.

“Say nothing until you are spoken to,” Faraday said, and Azhure nodded, hoping that Caelum would behave himself. Never before had she been exposed to such power as she felt here, and it awed and frightened her. As they stepped into the centre of the Grove, giant trees rearing on either side, Azhure felt strange eyes watching her from under their dark branches.

She looked straight ahead … and jumped. Walking towards her was the most magnificent – and most frightening – creature Azhure had ever seen. With the splendid head of a stag atop the muscular man’s body, this was one of the Sacred Horned Ones, the magical creatures that male Avar Banes transformed into when they died.

Was Raum here?

But this Horned One was not Raum, for he was not a complete stag, but he did have a noble silver pelt that extended over his shoulders and halfway down his back, and Azhure instinctively realised that he was among the senior of the Horned Ones.

“Greetings, Tree Friend,” the silver pelt said, and leaned forward to rub cheeks with Faraday.

Azhure started at the sound of normal speech and managed to compose herself only the instant before the Horned One turned her way.

“Sacred One,” Faraday said. “I have brought my friend, Azhure SunSoar, to meet with you. I hope you will accept her presence here in the Sacred Grove.”

The silver pelt stepped before Azhure and stared into her eyes. His gaze was cold and hard, and Azhure felt herself tremble, but she did not drop her eyes.

She could feel Caelum holding his breath against her body.

“I know who you are,” the silver pelt said, his voice puzzled. “I know you!”

This was the woman for whom the StarMan had betrayed Tree Friend. But this was not why he was puzzled. Slowly he lifted a hand to Azhure’s face and traced his middle three fingers down her forehead.

“You have already been accepted into the Grove and the company of the Horned Ones,” he said, with surprise.

“Already accepted?” Faraday frowned. Acceptance was reserved only for Banes of the Avar and those children they brought to the Mother.

“Oh!” Azhure said, memories flooding her mind. Her hand, slowly turning Hagen over until she could see the knife protruding from his belly. His blood steaming in pools on the floor. Shra, the Avar girl Raum had brought back from Fernbrake Lake, scrambling from the bed, dipping her fingers into Hagen’s blood and drawing three lines down Azhure’s forehead. “Accepted,” she had lisped. And none had known what she had meant.

“Accepted,” Azhure whispered, remembering, and shared her memory with Faraday and the silver pelt.

The Horned One smiled – and, with his great square yellowing teeth and cold black eyes it was a dreadful sight. “A sacrifice was accepted on your behalf. Be well and welcomed to the sacred paths, Azhure.”

Faraday was puzzled by the distress on Azhure’s face. “Azhure? Why so concerned? You have been granted a great honour. Few are welcomed so freely to the Sacred Groves.”

Azhure blinked at Faraday, then turned back to the Horned One. Her mouth trembled. “Oh, Sacred One, I am aware of the honour that you do me. But it troubles me that an act of wanton violence, violence which has turned many of the Avar against me, should prove the deed that gains me entrance to these sacred paths."

The Horned One lifted a hand and cupped Azhure’s face between his fingers.

“Azhure. I was only surprised because I knew you, and I only know people who have been accepted into the Grove. Shra, who will grow to be one of the most powerful Banes the Avar have ever birthed, recognised your worth. Hagen’s death as such did not make you acceptable to us –”

“Much as it may have further endeared you to us,” said a second Horned One who had appeared at the silver pelt’s shoulder. Behind him four or five others had materialised from beyond the dark trees.

“– for his death was merely the method by which one of the greatest Avar Banes yet born chose to accept you as worthy to step the sacred paths to this Grove.”

“Worthy? Why am I worthy?”

Faraday smiled. Despite what Azhure had learned about herself since she had fled Smyrton, she still found it hard to believe that she was worthy of all the attention, regard and love that had come her way.

“Worthy?” The silver pelt’s smile faded and his fingers tightened momentarily about Azhure’s face. “Why are you worthy to step the paths into this Grove? You are worthy simply because of who you are, Azhure. You are a Sacred Daughter. You have drunk the blood of the Stag. You have saved the lives of many Avar – despite their ungratefulness. The Sacred Grove thanks you for your actions at the Earth Tree Grove. You saved Raum’s life and helped him and Shra to escape the Smyrton villagers. But most of all, Azhure, you are worthy because of the ring you wear and the Circle you complete.”

He lifted Azhure’s hand and held it for all the other Horned Ones to see. “The Circle of Stars has come home; Shra saw the power within you as well – no wonder she accepted you. Hagen’s death was merely a convenient occasion to formally announce the acceptance, it was not the reason she accepted you … or why we accept you. You have great power, Azhure, and deep compassion, and you have aided the Avar and you have aided Faraday and will continue to aid her. Because of all these things, you are beloved and welcomed into the Sacred Grove.”

“And,” he let go of Azhure’s face and hand and picked Caelum out of her arms, “your son is welcomed too. Welcome, Caelum, and may your feet always find the paths to the Sacred Grove.”

Caelum, awed but not frightened, submitted to the silver pelt’s embrace, overcoming his awe to thrust a curious finger into the Horned One’s face so that the silver pelt had to avert his eye to prevent it being poked.

“Caelum!” Azhure muttered, embarrassed, but wondering at the name the Horned One had given the Enchantress’ ring; what did it mean? And what ‘circle’ did she complete? She opened her mouth to ask, but the Horned One forestalled her.

“Your son bears your blood, and he was conceived at Beltide under the Song of the Earth Tree. He will wield much of your power and he will be as compassionate. But, Azhure –”

The Horned One’s voice hardened. Azhure paled at the sudden transformation, remembering how the Horned Ones had terrified Axis the first time he had come to the Grove in a dream vision. She realised that these Horned Ones could kill at the snap of a finger and with considerably less effort.

“Azhure, never, never, bring those children you carry within you to this Grove. Their feet are not welcome on the sacred paths.”

“But they were conceived at Beltide, too,” Azhure said, more puzzled and frightened than defensive. What was wrong with these babes?

“They were conceived well beyond the Avarinheim, and they do not share your compassion, Azhure. Beware of them, Daughter, for they may one day do you and yours great harm.”

Beware? Azhure paled until her face was almost white, her eyes great and dark. Faraday stepped forward and put her hand on Azhure’s arm.

“Now, I have a garden to show you, Azhure,” she said, “and two women who would, I think, dearly like to meet you.”

At the pressure of Faraday’s hand Azhure walked away a few paces, then she turned back to the silver pelt who still stood watching her.

“Thank you for your acceptance,” she said, finally finding her voice. “It means a great deal to me.” Then she turned and followed Faraday.

That evening, well after the sun had sunk into the west and Carlon was almost frantic wondering what had become of her and Caelum, Azhure walked down the stairs of Spiredore. Behind her the Alaunt snuffled happily. In her absence they had eaten to excess in the Silent Woman Keep.

It had been a wondrous day. The friendship that Faraday had promised Azhure had matured and deepened. She had not only visited, but had been accepted into the Sacred Grove. Faraday had led her past the dark tree line so she could discover the enchanted world that lay beyond – what other mother had ever watched her son play with blue and orange splotched panthers amid the dancing rivulets of a magical stream while diamond-eyed birds fluttered about his shoulders? She had met Raum-that-was, the White Stag, and had cried gently as he let her stroke his velvety nose before bounding away to run unfettered through the Enchanted Wood. And she had sat and talked for hours with two women, one middle-aged and dressed in a soft blue dress with a rainbow sash, the Mother, and one old and red-cloaked, reminding her vividly of Orr. Both women had, in their own way, awed her far more than the silver-pelted Horned One.

They had sat in the warm sun on the garden bench in Ur’s nursery, the four women and the baby boy. While the Mother held her hands over Caelum’s ears (for such knowledge was not his right), Ur told Azhure the secret of the seedlings.

Moved beyond words, Azhure had taken Faraday’s hand, and the women sat for some time, enjoying each other’s company, and laughing at the baby as he crawled, serenely oblivious to the significance of what surrounded him, through the pathways of the nursery. In the serenity and comfort of the garden and the company, Azhure set aside her fear at the Horned One’s words regarding her twins. All her questions would surely be answered on the Island of Mist and Memory.

“I have been blessed,” she whispered into Caelum’s ear as she stepped forth from Spiredore to greet a relieved Hesketh, half the palace guard, and StarDrifter, who had been just about to go in after her.