Every so often creatures spilled out of the Maze Gate, expelled like gouts of blood from a bleeding heart. Sometimes the hundreds of creatures set loose with each expulsion scrambled mindlessly about the immediate wasteland, falling victim to the cravings and appetites of other creatures about them, and sometimes they set off in groups of several score, as if purposed by Qeteb for his own dark design. Most of these hordes swarmed up and down the dusty-dry bed of the Nordra — now a great artery of corruption — but several of these dark-minded crowds set off for Axis and his column. Most were destroyed by the ethereal trees before they could cause any harm, and the few that did reach Axis and his war band were quickly dispatched.

As Axis sat Sal on the eastern bank of the Nordra on a small hillock overlooking the black Maze, surveying the frightful scene before him, Axis wondered what he should do now, but before he could make up his mind, Ur rode up on the bear-back of Urbeth.

"Wait," Ur said. "There is not much else to do."

"Look," said Zared, who had ridden to join Axis, and he pointed to the north-west.

There a series of small hills rolled towards the distant Western Ranges. On one of the hills was a tumble of stones, surrounded by a massive crowd of beasts.

A chestnut-haired woman in a white robe stood before the stones, facing the beasts.

"Faraday!" Axis whispered.

"And more," Zared said softly, wondering how any of them could possibly survive this day. Again he pointed.

On a hill some eighty paces away from the one on which Faraday awaited her fate stood DragonStar and Qeteb, their respective mounts four or five paces apart, waiting on them.

Qeteb was all-consuming darkness: his armour, his wings, the lance he held in his right hand. Even the dawn light seemed drawn into him, as if he were that source in the universe which ate all light, and sent it to its death.

Beside him, DragonStar stood clean and bright, dressed in nothing save his white loincloth, and jewelled belt and purse.

The lily sword was sheathed.

As Qeteb appeared to eat light, so DragonStar appeared to radiate it ... but the light he put out could not compete with the amount Qeteb absorbed, and even as Axis stared, DragonStar seemed to fade slightly, as if whatever energy source he relied upon was being consumed particle by particle by the Midday Demon.

"He is weak," Urbeth said softly.

"Maybe," said Ur. "Maybe."

There was a stir amongst the creatures milling before Faraday, and all eyes turned in her direction.

Chapter 64

The Most Appaling Choice of Al

Faraday turned, and she saw Axis in the distance. He sat atop a small brown horse, his war band about him, and Faraday smiled, remembering the adventures and the love they'd once shared.

Or, the love she'd thought they once shared.

Tears filled her eyes, and she bowed her head, and turned away.

As she turned, Faraday raised her head anew, and she saw Qeteb and DragonStar on a hill not far from hers.

DragonStar ... Faraday sobbed, a shaking hand to her mouth. She didn't think she had the strength for what lay ahead. She well knew what had happened to Goldman and Dare Wing, and the triumph that suffused Qeteb. Now it all rested on her. The chance for complete success, or utter failure.

And utter failure would inevitably lead to obliteration. Oh gods! How she prayed for it! To escape all pain and betrayal, to be at peace even if it was the peace of oblivion.

Still sobbing, both hands and shoulders shaking, Faraday stared at DragonStar. Did he love her? Did he love her enough to place her before Tencendor?

Could he save her from what lay ahead?

Faraday shut her eyes, desperate to escape from the nightmarish thoughts chasing about her head.

Desperate, whatever else, to escape from the pain that was her destiny.

Something dug slightly into her belly, and Faraday's free hand gripped the rainbow belt that the Mother had given her. She could feel the outline of the arrow and the sapling that wound about it.

And from that faint touch, Faraday drew strength.

She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes for a last look at DragonStar. "For God's sake," she whispered, not even pausing to wonder why she put the deity in the singular now, when before she, as everyone else in Tencendor, had always used the plural, "save me, DragonStar. Save me."

And Faraday turned, and she faced the test.

Sheol now stood before the undulating dark mass of beasts that spread out from Faraday's hill.

"Greetings, Faraday," Sheol said pleasantly, and Faraday felt despair flood her. "What choice do you have planned for me, then?"

And Sheol laughed, a dreadful, burbling chortle that rang with utter confidence.

Sheol was going to win, and she knew it.

Faraday sighed, utterly despairing, and she held out her hand to the Demon. "Come," she said.

They walked a frozen landscape. A frigid northerly wind blew hard-edged snow about them, forcing both to walk with heads bowed and hands grasping their cloaks about them.

Neither talked.

As they walked, Sheol very gradually turned eastwards until she was lost in the driving wind and snow, and Faraday was left alone in the frozen land.

This was a land, and an existence, Faraday knew very well.

She had been here before, on the evening she had risen from the campfire she'd shared with Axis and the two Avar men, Erode and Loman, as they'd journeyed northwards to Gorgrael's ice fortress.

Faraday had risen and left that fire and not seen Axis again until he'd come to claim his inheritance in Gorgrael's frightful chamber.

Now Faraday lived it all over again.

She caught sight of a flickering campfire ahead, and thought she saw DragonStar's form rise and move about it, throwing on more wood as if awaiting her company.

"DragonStar!" Faraday breathed, and hurried forward. Maybe all would be well, after all.

A strange whisper, barely discernible in the night, ran along the edge of the wind.

Faraday paused, the cloak wrapping itself about her body in the wind. Nothing. She hurried on.

There, again, a soft whisper along the wind and, this time, a hint of movement to her right.

She stopped again, every nerve afire. Her fingers pushed fine strands of hair from her eyes, and she concentrated hard, peering through the gloom, listening for any unusual sounds.