Enchanter (31 page)

The next moment they stepped through into the Chamber of the Star Gate.

Axis was as awe-struck as Faraday had been. The Chamber was exquisitely beautiful. And whereas Faraday had thought it resembled the Chamber of the Moons in the palace at Carlon, Axis knew instantly that the Icarii Assembly Chamber had been modelled on the Chamber of the Star Gate. Perfectly circular, it was surrounded by pillars and archways. Each pillar was carved from translucent white stone in the shape of a naked winged man. Most of the winged men stood with their heads bowed and arms folded across their chests, their wings outstretched to touch those of their neighbours, thus forming the apex of the archways. But Axis noticed that an entire section of pillars across the far side of the chamber were different. These winged men had their heads up and their eyes wide open, their golden orbs staring towards the centre of the chamber, their arms uplifted in joy with their wings.

"They represent the twenty-six Enchanter-Talons who were buried above in the Barrows," the Ferryman said, and Axis abruptly realised they were directly below the Ancient Barrows where Gorgrael's storm had killed so many of his men. And where he had lost Faraday.

Orr moved forwards, gesturing for Axis to follow. What appeared to be a circular pool, surrounded by a low rim, occupied the centre of the Chamber, above it blue shadows chased each other across the domed ceiling. Both the pulsing blue light and the sound of the gale emanated from that pool. As he peered into the Star Gate Axis observed, as had Faraday, that it was the gateway into the universe. The real universe, not the poor imitation that lit the night skies. The sound of the Star Dance was strong here, and Axis could see why.

Stars reeled and danced, suns chased each other across entire galaxies, moons dipped and swayed through planetary systems, luminous comets threaded through the cosmos.

Its beauty was unimaginable, its allure almost irresistible. The Star Dance called to Axis, pleaded with him, begged him. It wanted a lover, and it had chosen Axis. Come! it pleaded, Come! Step through the Gate. Come to me!

"Resist the call," Orr whispered. "Resist." Hardening himself against the lure of the Star Dance, Axis let the beauty of the universe wash through him. The colours amazed him; when he looked into the night sky from the OverWorld all he could see were the silvery stars, sometimes touched with a hint of gold or red. But as he gazed into the Star Gate Axis could see entire galaxies of emerald or gold or lilac, solar systems of cornflower and crimson, while the
colours of individual stars were every imaginable shade of the rainbow.

"When you stand in the outer world and look at the night sky," Orr explained, "you look at the universe through a veil of air and wind and indistinct cloud and sound. To see the true universe you must either die, or stand at the lip of the Star Gate."

They stared into the Star Gate for an indeterminate length of time, until finally Axis shuddered and turned away. The call of the Star Dance was becoming too much to bear. If he did not step back now he might well be unable to resist.

Axis stared about the Chamber, then he wandered past the first of the twenty-six Enchanter-Talon statues, all obviously the work of master craftsmen.

Axis could not resist the urge to reach out and gently touch the fourth statue he passed. The stone felt cold and unforgiving beneath his fingers.

"Do not do that, Axis," Orr said. "It is disrespectful of those gone to touch their statues."

"They are dead and long gone, Orr. I do not think they will mind. Besides,"

he had reached the eighth in the line and ran his hand over its outstretched wings, "I will one day stand among them."

"Axis." Orr's tone was firmer now. "There is a longstanding tradition that to touch these statues is bad luck, and I think you should stand back."

Axis reached the ninth and touched it briefly, ready to stop, but instead of his fingers feeling cold hard stone, they went straight through the statue.

Axis gasped in shock and stepped back, then leaned forward and tentatively touched the statue again. It shimmered, wavered, then disappeared entirely, and Axis and Orr were left staring at nothingness.

"It was an illusion," Orr finally managed to say. "An illusion!"

Axis dropped his hand. "What does this mean, Orr?"

Orr wrapped the cloak about himself protectively. "I never thought to see this," he whispered. "Never." "See what?" Axis snapped.

"The ninth of the Enchanter-Talons has returned," Orr said in a very weak voice. "WolfStar SunSoar has come back through the Gate."

Axis took a shocked breath. "When?" "I do not know," Orr said. "He died some four thousand years ago, but he could have come back at any time since then."

"Is he the SunSoar Enchanter who trained me? Who trained Gorgrael?"

"He could be wearing any disguise," said Orr. "Any at all. A babe, an aged man, a pretty young woman. WolfStar was already powerful when he died and went through the Star Gate. If he had the power to come back then he is now powerful beyond imagination."

"But why, Orr? Why did he come back? Why hasn't he revealed himself?" Orr shrugged.

Axis quickly ran his hand over the remaining statues. All were solid. He turned back to Orr. "Where could he be?"

Orr laughed harshly. "I wish I knew, Axis SunSoar, because then I would know the safest place to hide." "Why say that?" Axis could not hide his concern.

"Because WolfStar was a terrible, terrible Enchanter-Talon. His power was virulent]" Orr said, "He was so horrifying that he was eventually murdered by his own brother."

Virulent? Axis thought to himself, remembering how loath MorningStar and StarDrifter were to talk of their ancestor.

"Who is more terrible, Orr, WolfStar or Gorgrael?" Orr replied without hesitation. "WolfStar has the potential to be far more terrible, Axis."

"But why would WolfStar train us both?" Axis said.

"Why?"

"Because he is already manipulating both of you, Axis.

For whatever foul purpose he has."

But what purpose? Orr asked himself. Revenge? Is that why WolfStar has come back to haunt us?

"Orr," Axis asked, "what is the connection between WolfStar and the Prophecy of the Destroyer? If WolfStar is manipulating both Gorgrael and myself, then is he also manipulating the Prophecy? Or is he being manipulated by the Prophecy?"

Is WolfStar the traitor the third verse of the Prophecy warns me about? Axis wondered.

"Orr, this is news that I must take back to MorningStar and StarDrifter.

Perhaps, somehow, we can discover where he is. Why he has come back. But there is one more thing I must do within the waterways. One more thing. I made a promise." "What?"

"I must return FreeFall SunSoar from the dead," Axis said, staring the Ferryman in the eyes. "And you are going to help me."

Gorgrael Makes a New FriendGorgrael

stared at the frozen grey sludge. It was the remains of the SkraeBold Belial had killed outside Gorkenfort and Gorgrael was determined to do something with it.

He had his Skraelings and he had his IceWorms, but Gorgrael wanted to create something special for his drive south. He was rapidly building his forces for the winter push south through Jervois Landing, or even, perhaps, the WildDog Plains.

What Gorgrael wanted was something that could fly. Something that would turn Axis' face grey with worry. Something that could destroy the Icarii in the air.

Now, let me see, Gorgrael thought, surveying the grey matter before him.

Dragons? When he was but a child, his Skraeling nursemaids had whispered stories to him about great dragons that had once flown the sky. Beautiful dragons, vicious dragons, dragons that had carried off creatures as large as whales. But dragons were too gaudy, and far too large to make from what he had before him.

What, then? Gorgrael shifted from foot to foot, his claws clicking sharply on the floor.

"Gorgrael," the loved voice said behind him.

"Dear Man!" he cried in delight. Two visits in such quick succession — he was blessed!

The Dark Man emerged from a darkened corner unlit by the failing fire, his heavily cowled head and figure almost indistinguishable from the shadows about him.

"You are going to recreate?" the Dark Man asked.

"Yes," Gorgrael said, and indicated the grey sludge in front of him. "It was the SkraeBold who failed me. I had thought to cast his remains to the crows, but that —"

"Would have been a waste of such good building material," the Dark Man finished thoughtfully.

"Precisely," Gorgrael said, suppressing the edge of triumph in his voice.

"And what did you think you would make from this, Gorgrael?" the Dark Man asked. "What creature would you make to work your will?"

Gorgrael couldn't answer. He glared at the grey sludge as if it were at fault in this.

"Demon-winged," the Dark Man suggested, sliding his gloved hands into the deep sleeves of his cloak.

"Demon-winged," Gorgrael repeated. Yes, that was good.

"Ogre-bellied." Now the Dark Man's voice was louder.

"Ogre-bellied." Gorgrael nodded. "Yes. Yes, I like that."

"Grave-jawed."

"What creature is this, Dear Man?"

The Dear Man tipped his head to one side and regarded his protege. "Can you not yet recognise it, Gorgrael?"

Gorgrael shook his head in frustration.

"Dragon-clawed," the Dark Man prompted.

A dim memory of ancient nightmares stirred. "Blight-eyed!" Gorgrael cried.

Underneath his cowl the Dark Man smiled. "It will cry with the voice of despair."

"Gryphon!" Gorgrael shrieked, triumphantly.

They waited, each on edge, unsure of how their enchantments had worked.

The Gryphon was to be a creature that could thrive, not only in the snow and ice of GorgraeFs homeland, but in the warmer climes of southern Achar. It would have to soar in the air thermals above Grail Lake, and penetrate to the very heart of Axis' command. It would be a creature brave and committed, single-purposed.

"You will be my vanguard," Gorgrael said. "My herald. Your voice shall be mine, and it shall be the voice that the forces of the StarMan shall hear as they die. Despair."

The working of the Gryphon had been fraught with worry. The Song of Recreation was hard and dangerous when worked with the Dark Music. The power of the Dance of Death had flooded through both Gorgrael and the Dark Man as they wrestled with the Song. But the Dark Man, Dear Man, was a master, and he had managed to control the Dark Music as it threatened to rope out of control through their bodies and about the room.

They had both sung, both waited as the grey sludge firmed and warmed and writhed beneath their touch. As the Song had wound to a close, Gorgrael, almost in ecstasy, plunged his hands into the all-but-dead fire in the fireplace and seized two coals, still smouldering bright. Ignoring his own burning flesh Gorgrael had carried the coals to the writhing grey sludge on the floor and plunged them deep into its mass. As he withdrew his clawed hands the Song finally died, and the Dear Man pulled him back a safe distance.

"Now we must wait, Gorgrael," he said. The grey sludge darkened, became even more ill-defined, until Gorgrael could see only a quivering, black mound that absorbed what little light the room held. Deep within glowed two spots of red. Every so often it jerked, and every time it jerked it doubled its size. Soon both the Dark Man and Gorgrael had to step back to avoid being absorbed by the growing creature.

"Something is wrong," Gorgrael suddenly hissed. "We did not sing the appropriate music. We missed a phrase, a beat.

We did not twist enough power through for a successful making."

"Patience, Gorgrael!" the Dark Man barked. "You were ever too impatient!"

Gorgrael subsided at the criticism, his contorted face coiling into a frown, wondering if it was past time he asserted his own power over the Dark Man.

"Ah!" the Dark Man gasped. "It will be born!"

His moment of rebellion gone, Gorgrael dropped his eyes. The round black mass, now the size of a small boulder, had a dark membrane stretched over it.

Something roiled within, as if it struggled to be free.

A slight perforation suddenly appeared in the membrane and, an instant later, the membrane split down one entire side. A sleek head emerged, twin eyes glowing with the promise of death. It blinked, looked about briefly, then it opened its beak and shrieked with the victory of birth.

It had the head of a massive eagle.

Gorgrael whimpered in glee. They had sung aright!

The creature turned its head and ripped viciously at the rest of the membrane, freeing itself in only three or four movements. It stepped forward, regarding both the Dark Man and Gorgrael curiously, then it sank into a crouch before Gorgrael, resting its head on its front paws in a spontaneous act of submission.

Gorgrael bent down and stroked the Gryphon's gleaming brown head feathers. The Gryphon closed its eyes and grunted with gratification. It knew its master. Gorgrael ran his hands over die rest of its body. From the shoulder blades and spine extended graceful wings, feathered in the same glossy brown of its head. But the Gryphon's resemblance to a bird stopped with its feathers. It had the muscular body of a great cat, its tawny coat short and thick and designed to stay the claws or arrows of enemies. A long, tufted tail swung behind. It rested on short but thickly muscled legs that ended
in massive paws.

At each stroke of Gorgrael's hands, the Gryphon sheathed then unsheathed its dreadful claws. It was, overall, a frightful beast.

The Dark Man was also well pleased with the Gryphon, and, indeed, with Gorgrael. Gorgrael had worked hard $o rebuild his forces, and even now the Dark Man knew that the Skraelings and the IceWorms, under the leadership of SkraeBolds determined not to fail their master again, massed just south and west of Hsingard. It would not be long before an offensive could begin again.

No stranger to death himself, the Dark Man looked forward to the fighting and the slaughter that would ensue. It gave him satisfaction.

"Gorgrael, my friend. I wove something extra into the Song of Recreation.