Gods, Askam thought, his face carefully hidden in shadow, Drago has everyone convinced he is the hero of the moment, doesn’t he. But what if, StarDrifter, you feathered idiot, Drago still aids the Demons? What if Axis is right, and Faraday is wrong?
Drago shrugged aside StarDrifter’s words. “In actual fact, I first planned to die, for I did not particularly want to come back. But then,” he raised his face and smiled at Faraday, “the Sentinels spoke to me —”
“The Sentinels!” Faraday’s green eyes widened. “They are alive? You saw them? Did they come back?”
Drago smiled at her excitement. “Yes, they live, but no and no to your other two questions, Faraday. I did not ‘see’ them, for they are spirit only, and they did not wish to come back through the Star Gate, preferring to spend their eternity drifting among the stars. They love you, Faraday, but they did not want to come back.”
“Are they still arguing?”
Drago laughed, and most about the fire smiled at the sound. “Yes, they still argue. I think the stars must ring with the music of their debates.”
“So, they helped you to survive,” StarDrifter said.
“Yes, but only after they persuaded me to aid Caelum and Tencendor as best I can.” Drago sighed. “Not that Caelum will accept my help.”
“Drago, do not blame him for that,” Zared said.
“I do not. Instead I reproach myself for creating such a fear within him.”
“And now?” DareWing asked. This sitting about and listening to confessions was all very well, but there were over thirty thousand men and Icarii standing about, waiting for direction.
For the first time an expression of uncertainty crossed Drago’s face. “I want to help,” he said, “but —”
Faraday put a hand on his shoulder, interrupting him. “There are many things that I have come to know over the past few months,” she said, “and, regrettably, few that I can tell you for the moment. In time, it will become Drago’s story to tell, and I ask only that you wait.”
“Faraday —” Zared began, as eager as DareWing to make a start to something.
“Hush. Listen to me. At the moment none of us know much, but that can be remedied. First, may I ask what you all know, and understand?”
“Demons, through the Star Gate,” Herme put in. “They have ravaged this land.” Briefly, he gave details of what hours were safe to venture forth, and what not.
“And we are thankful, Lady Faraday,” Theod said, smiling and inclining his head at her, “that before the Demons broke through you spread the word that safety could be found indoors during those hours the Demons ravaged. Without the warning, most of Tencendor would be lost.”
“As it is,” Zared said, “our scouts at the edge of the forest report seeing crazed people wandering the plains, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups.”
“And there are also herds of livestock,” DareWing added. “Animals that are caught in the grey miasma of the Demonic horror seem to behave … most peculiarly. As if they, too, have gone mad.”
Faraday’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She had not thought about the animals. “Do you know why the Demons have come to ravage?” she asked, pushing the conversation forward. They could think about the animals later.
“To find what lies at the foot of the Sacred Lakes,” Leagh said, “in order to resurrect one of their number, the worst of all. Qeteb, the Midday Demon.”
Faraday nodded. “The answer to all our woes must lie at the foot of the Sacred Lakes. All I know is that Drago and I must go to the Cauldron Lake, as soon as we can. What is there needs to speak with Drago.”
Everyone, including Drago, started to speak at once, but Faraday hushed them.
“I will take Drago there, and once we get back … well … once we get back I hope that we will have some answer to our current dilemma.”
“Cauldron Lake?” Zared said. “But that is far south. It will take you days to get —”
“Seven or eight days to get there and back,” Faraday said.
“What?” Zared exploded. “Wait! A week? Gods, Faraday! Tencendor lies ravaged and you say, ‘Sit here and smile and wait a week’.”
“Zared,” Leagh said, glancing at Faraday. “What can we do but wait? Where can we go? We cannot move beyond the shelter of this forest for more than a few hours at a time, and that is no time to get an army anywhere. We must wait. Drago — what will you be able to tell us when you get back?”
“Leagh, I don’t know. I am sorry.”
Zared sighed, accepting. Leagh was right. They needed some answers. “Well, at least take two of our best horses. You might as well move as fast as you can.”
Faraday laughed. “I thank you, Zared, but no. My two donkeys can carry us, and they know the way well enough.”
Faraday sat awake late into the night, watching as Tencendor’s army slept curled up in blankets or wings in an unmoving ocean spreading into the unseeable distance.
Drago lay close to her, and she reached out, hesitated, then touched his cheek briefly.
He did not stir.
She sighed, and turned her gaze to the forest canopy, needing to sleep, but needing more to think. She was appalled by the scene earlier, and the face of hatred Axis had chosen to show Drago.
All Axis could see in Drago was the malevolent infant, using every power he had to try to put Caelum away so that he, DragonStar, could assume the name and privileges of StarSon. Faraday could hardly blame Axis and Azhure, and certainly not Caelum, for their distrust of Drago — but it was going to make things difficult. Very difficult.
At that thought Faraday almost smiled. Here she was fretting at the fact that Drago’s parents did not welcome the prodigal son with open arms and tears of joy, when beyond the trees ravaged such misery that SunSoar quarrels paled into insignificance.
But to counter the misery there was Drago. And somewhere, secreted within his craft, there was Noah. Between them, those two must somehow prove the saving of Tencendor.
Faraday let her thoughts drift for a while, content to listen to the sounds of the sleeping camp. Somewhere a horse moved, and snorted, and a soldier spoke quietly to it. The sound of the man soothing the horse made Faraday think, for no particular reason, of the stunning moment when Sicarius had leapt to the aid of Drago. Drago? Faraday knew how devoted those hounds, and especially Sicarius, had always been to Azhure, but she also remembered that for thousands of years they had run with the Sentinel, Jack, and she wondered if their origins lay not in Icarii magic, but deep below the Sacred Lakes.
Perhaps no wonder, then, that Sicarius had leapt to Drago’s defence.
There was a slight movement at her side, breaking Faraday’s thoughts.
She looked down. Drago had rolled a little closer, and now lay with his head propped up on a hand.
“Faraday — what did I come through the Star Gate as? You transformed me somehow, back to this form … but what did I come through the Star Gate as?”
“You came through as a sack of skin wrapped about some bones.”
A sack, he thought … an empty sack, just waiting to be filled.
“And the rosewood staff was with me?”
“Yes. You insisted on searching for it before you would let me drag you from the Chamber.”
Drago frowned slightly. “I can remember almost nothing of the Star Gate Chamber, or the first few hours afterwards. Everything, until I woke