Pilgrim. Sara Douglass

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      “And the magic of the craft?” Zenith asked. She hated what Drago said, but she also believed they had no option but to trust him.

      “We must learn to use that as well,” Drago said. “Faraday is to seek —”

      “For the gods’ sakes!” Askam shifted irritably. “No doubt you are going to blind our senses and woo our favour by speaking of some glittering and glorious quest. Bah! You speak of nothing but dreams. Caelum will help us, and he will do right by us. He will not allow this Qeteb to raise from whatever crypt he is stored in. He will not allow —”

      “Askam,” Drago said, fixing the man with his eyes. Both his stare and his voice were steady, and very compelling. “You speak nothing but truth when you say that Caelum will help us and do right by us. I am here to serve this land above all else, and I am here to right what wrongs I have done, to both land and Caelum. But Qeteb must be allowed to rise, for there is no other way he can be destroyed. No-one can fight a memory, not even Caelum.”

      “Ha!” Askam said, but his tone was unsteady, and his eyes wavered from Drago’s.

      Zared studied Drago. There was something troubling the man, some doubt that ate away at his soul. What doubt? Damn him. What was he hiding? Was it worth the destruction of Tencendor?

      Leagh laid a hand on his arm, and Zared lowered his head, fighting to contain his anger and frustration.

      “Caelum can’t defeat Qeteb without the Sceptre, Drago,” DareWing said. “All who have seen the Maze Gate agree with that. I do not mean to cast doubts on your words, but —”

      “DareWing, there is no offence taken.” Drago paused. “I will return the Sceptre to Caelum. I stole it, and I must return it. Faraday and I will go north to do just that.”

      Faraday gave him a sharp look, and then turned her face away.

      “I have heard enough,” Zared said in a low voice, then raised his head and stared at Drago. “I have heard enough. I am charged with the care of the peoples of this land, and yet you sit there and say, ‘Let them die.’ You are nothing but —”

      “You will listen to what I have to say,” Drago shouted, visibly shocking most in the circle.

      He stared at Zared, then moved his eyes to each and every one who sat about the fire. “I am a SunSoar. I am the son of Axis SunSoar and of the Enchantress Azhure. I am a Prince of the House of Stars, and of this moment I am claiming my birthright. Among all of us here, I have the highest birthright, I have the best claim to authority, and I know what must be done! In the absence of the StarSon you will, you must, heed my wishes and do as I ask.”

      Drago paused, his entire face set hard, then he leaned forward, stabbing with a stiff finger to give his words more emphasis. “Now you will shut up and you will all damn well listen to what I have to say.”

      Utter silence. Shock not only at being spoken to in this manner, but because the words and tone came from a man that most had been used to seeing only as a skulking, sullen backdrop to any scene.

      It was still hard, StarDrifter thought, to think of Drago as a SunSoar Prince. He glanced about the circle. Faraday was as watchful as he. They locked eyes for an instant, and StarDrifter was the first to shift his away. Zared’s face was unreadable, but StarDrifter thought he knew the man well enough to know that unreadability in itself did not bode ill for Drago. He looked at DareWing. The birdman was tense, and looking at Drago with such ambiguous speculation that StarDrifter thought it could mean either murder or unquestioning loyalty. Askam was clearly hostile. Theod and Herme looked entirely out of their depth; they would follow Zared’s lead.

      StarDrifter looked briefly at the birdwoman by his side. Zenith caught his look, and gave a half-smile. She trusted Drago implicitly. Leagh? She was worried, upset by the confrontation between her husband and Drago, and uncertain whom to believe.

      “Yes,” Drago said. “Tencendor will be destroyed, but if everyone within this circle works hard, then its peoples will be saved. Deep below us in the waterways is a Sanctuary, a place to which every person and creature that remains untainted can be evacuated. This land is going to be torn apart in the struggle against Qeteb, but its peoples can be saved, and eventually, once Qeteb is dead, the land can be resurrected.”

      Again, silence. Then Askam leaned back and laughed. It was a harsh and sarcastic sound.

      “I can hardly believe you have the gall to sit here and say that,” he said. “You. You? I haven’t heard anything so ridiculous in —”

      He got no further. There was a blur of movement from the trees and suddenly Askam was flat on the ground, the blue-feathered lizard on his chest and hissing in his face.

      Drago ignored both Askam and lizard. He looked Zared directly in the eye. “Zared, you are King of Achar. If I tell you how to save your people, will you listen?”

      He did not wait for an answer. Instead, Drago swung his fierce stare to StarDrifter. “StarDrifter, you are a Prince of the SunSoar House, and uncle to the Talon. If I tell you of a way to save the Icarii race, will you listen?”

      Again, Drago did not wait for an answer. He dropped his eyes for an instant, then raised his face and stared into the gloom of the trees.

      “Isfrael! You are Mage-King of the Avar. If I tell you how to save your people from destruction, will you listen?”

      Everyone else started, and turned to look in the same direction as Drago.

      There was a stillness among the trees … and then Isfrael stepped forth. He looked wilder and more dangerous than any could remember seeing him. His lips were curled in a half-snarl, his arms tense beside him, his hands clenched.

      There was blood streaked across his naked torso, and three trails of blood ran down his face.

      “No-one tells me how to save the Avar!” he snarled.

      Isfrael paused, and then closed the distance between himself and Drago. He leaned down, and thrust a bloodied hand in Drago’s face.

      Everyone except Drago automatically leaned back a fraction in shock.

      “See Shra’s blood,” Isfrael said, his voice almost a growl. “See what the Demons have done to her.”

      Drago stared at the hand, then back to Isfrael’s face. “If I tell you how to save the Avar, will you listen to me?”

      “If you live to see the Demons die,” Isfrael said, “then you have my loyalty.

      He held Drago’s eyes an instant longer, then turned and stared at Faraday.

      She returned his stare, trying to reconcile her memory of a lovable baby and child with this wild man. All she wanted to do was rise and embrace him, but she was kept still by the unexpected — and horrific — antagonism on his face.

      “Where were you when Shra died?” Isfrael hissed.

      Shra dead? Faraday did not know what to say. Did he blame her? Could she have done something? But she hadn’t known? Was there a way in which she —

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