He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Both Axis and Azhure, wingless, wondered at StarDrifter’s grace in rolling completely over without entangling himself in his wings.
“I have no doubt that Carlon would have been a popular residence for Icarii, Axis,” StarDrifter continued, “as close as it is to the sacred Grail Lake and Spiredore.” He paused, his face dreamy. “One could lift directly from those windows into the thermals rising off the great plains.”
Azhure smiled briefly at Axis. StarDrifter looked far too lazy to do anything more than loll about the chamber. Her smile died as she shifted uncomfortably and pushed a pillow into the small of her back – every day the unborn twins grew larger and more cumbersome.
Axis looked at her, concerned. We have tired you, beloved.
“No,” she said, although both StarDrifter and Axis could see the exhaustion tugging at her eyes. “No, I want to try again. Please, one more time before you go back down to your army.”
Axis had belatedly realised how much time had elapsed since his defeat of Borneheld, and he was in the process of organising a force to speed northwards to bolster the defences of Jervois Landing. Every hour brought them closer to autumn and Gorgrael’s inevitable attack.
StarDrifter sat up, as concerned as Axis was with Azhure’s condition. Faraday had obviously healed her back (and how much more desirable the woman was with her back clean and smooth and aching to be stroked, StarDrifter thought), but Azhure remained very weak from both the physical and emotional battering she had been forced to endure four days ago. Neither Axis nor StarDrifter was prepared to argue with Faraday’s prediction that Azhure would have to rest until the birth of her children.
And yet how desperately I will need her against Gorgrael, Axis thought. How desperately I need her skill with both bow and command, her Alaunt, and her power. I can ill afford to lose her to a drawn-out recovery over the next few months. But how much less can I afford to lose her to inevitable death should I push her too hard now? Axis was still trying to come to terms with his guilt, not only over the events of a few days ago, but also over the fact that, unknown to him, Azhure had fought through the dreadful Battle of Bedwyr Fort while encumbered with such a difficult pregnancy. His hand tightened about hers as he realised his good fortune that Azhure had managed to survive the past weeks at all.
“Please,” Azhure said. “One more time.” She raised her free hand to brush some strands of hair from her forehead, and the Enchantress’ ring glittered in the golden light of late afternoon.
Today was the first time Axis and StarDrifter had tried to teach Azhure the use of her Icarii power – but all in the room had been disheartened with the results, including Caelum who, wide-eyed, had watched the proceedings from his corner.
StarDrifter moved to a stool close to Azhure’s side, remembering, in comparison, how easy he and MorningStar had found Axis to train. Azhure’s father, WolfStar, must not have spent the time or the trouble training her as he had the young Axis. She had been completely ignored by WolfStar, and StarDrifter smouldered with anger thinking how WolfStar had abandoned Azhure to her awful fate in Smyrton.
As StarDrifter and MorningStar had once done for him, Axis now cupped Azhure’s face gently in his hands.
“Hear the Star Dance,” he said.
“Yes,” she replied, barely audible.
At least hearing the Star Dance had been as easy for Azhure as it had for Axis – but then she had been hearing it for some time without being aware of what it actually was. Every time Axis had made love to her she’d heard it; sometimes when she had suckled Caelum; sometimes when she stood at an open window and let the wind rush about her; oftentimes at night when she dreamed of distant shorelines and the tug of strange tides at rocks and sand.
But Azhure also heard the Dark Music, the Dance of Death, the music renegade stars made when they left their assigned courses. Neither Axis nor StarDrifter, nor any other Icarii Enchanter, could routinely hear that music, although they recognised it if it was wielded by someone else. StarDrifter had heard its echo in the Chamber of the Moons the night Axis had battled Borneheld. Axis had witnessed two of the SkraeBolds use it at the gates of Gorkentown, and both he and StarDrifter recognised its presence the morning Azhure had used Dark Music to tear the Gryphon apart atop Spiredore.
Now Azhure put the ghastly discordant sounds of the Dark Music to the back of her mind and concentrated on the supremely beautiful Star Dance. All Icarii Enchanters wielded the power of the Star Dance by weaving fragments of its power into more manageable melodies, Songs, each with their own specific purpose.
Axis and StarDrifter had been trying to teach Azhure one or two of the more simple Songs. Songs so simple that all Icarii training as Enchanters mastered them within an hour or two. But they had been trying to teach Azhure for almost five hours now, and she had failed to grasp a single phrase.
Azhure closed her eyes and concentrated on the Song that Axis sang slowly for her. It was a Song for Drying Clothes, a ridiculously easy song requiring only the tiniest manipulation of power, yet it seemed totally beyond her ability.
Axis finished, and both he and StarDrifter held their breath.
Relax, beloved. It is a simple Song. Sing it for me.
Azhure sighed and began to sing. Axis and StarDrifter winced. Her voice was harsh, utterly toneless, and completely lacking any of the musical beauty that had, until now, come instinctively to any of Icarii blood, whether they were Enchanters or not.
Axis remembered how Azhure had tried to join in the songs about the campfire on their trip down through the Icescarp Alps for the Beltide festivities. Then her voice had also been as completely toneless, as gratingly harsh, but Axis had felt sure that now that the block concealing Azhure’s true identity and power had been removed her musical ability would naturally surface.
But apparently that was not to be. If Azhure had any power at all then obviously she would be unable to use the conduit of Song to manipulate it.
Unnoticed, Caelum tottered on unsteady baby legs to his parents’ couch.
“Mama,” he said, startling the other three. “Simple. See?”
And he hummed the Song for Drying Clothes as beautifully as Axis had.
Azhure opened her eyes, stared at her son, and burst into tears.
Axis glared the boy into silence and gathered Azhure into his arms. “Shush, sweetheart. I’m sure that –”
“No!” Azhure cried. “It’s hopeless. I’ll never be able to learn.”
“Axis,” StarDrifter said gently. “Perhaps the trouble is that, while Azhure is of SunSoar blood, the blood link is too far removed from either of us for us to be able to teach her.”
The gift and powers of the Icarii Enchanters were passed on only through blood, from parent to child, and Enchanters could be trained only by one of their own House, or family, and usually only by someone of close blood relation. Normally it was a parent who trained a new Enchanter, although someone else of close blood link within the family could also assist. Thus Axis’ grandmother, MorningStar, had been able to assist her son StarDrifter teach his son, Axis.
But WolfStar came from a generation of SunSoars four thousand years old. He had died, been entombed, walked through the Star Gate, and had then come back for purposes that neither Axis nor StarDrifter could yet fathom.
Axis stared at his father, then looked at his wife. “Azhure, StarDrifter could be right.”
Azhure sat back. “Yet WolfStar could train both you and Gorgrael, Axis. You are as far removed from him in blood as I am from you.”
“None of us knows how powerful WolfStar has become,” StarDrifter said. “He obviously has the power to use whatever blood link there is, while neither