And, then, to Sheol.
The woman with the child stepped forth and said: "When you and yours broke through the Star Gate into this beautiful land, I was hanging out my washing. Despair overwhelmed me, and caused me to consider my toddling child's future life. I thought that she would only suffer, perhaps at the hands of an abusive husband, and so I lifted her up and twisted the washing line about her neck, strangling her unto death."
The woman paused, and sobbed, a hand to her mouth. "I killed my own daughter. Now you shall know your own time!"
Again the arrow sprang, slithering into movement and climbing to the top of the scaffold.
And the entire scaffold changed ...
... into a washing line strung between two forked poles.
The rope around Sheol's neck hauled her upward, upward, upward until it twisted among the rope of the washing line, and this time the Demon did strangle, her face and eyes bulging as the washing line tightened, tightened, tightened about her neck.
Sheol despaired.
Somehow she managed to extend a hand to DragonStar, her bulging eyes pleading, but his face was implacable, and Sheol dropped her hand.
Strands of rope ravelled down from the line, twisting themselves about Sheol's entire body until she was encased in tightening coils of rope.
They squeezed.
Blood and slivers of flesh oozed out from between the coils of rope.
The woman, unperturbed, leaned down and unwound her own washing line from about her child's neck, and then she lifted the child up, and the child smiled, and flung her arms about her mother's neck.
Sheol fell apart. Again, as with Barzula, flesh and blood dropped to the platform, sizzling and disappearing.
Eventually there was nothing left to squeeze, and the ropes themselves dropped to the platform and disappeared.
The arrow fell down, caught this time by the child, and she and her mother returned it to DragonStar.
The woman had tears of joy running down her face. "We thank you," she said as she handed back the arrow.
DragonStar also wept, for he had lived with the guilt of this child's death for a very long time, and he accepted the arrow and slid it home with its companions.
As one, the crowd lowered their hands and turned their faces to DragonStar?
And us? And us?
DragonStar turned to the old man, who had been sitting quietly in the driver's seat of the cart. The man sighed, and climbed down.
As he did so, he transformed ... into the Butler.
DragonStar grinned, and said to the crowd: "I think you will find that the Butler, efficient accountant that he is, has each and every one of your names in his account book. Present yourself to him and he will tick off your name, make his accounting, and show you through the gate into the garden. There, you will rest amid the flowers."
The woman with the child, who was still standing at DragonStar's knee, spoke for the entire crowd.
"Thank you," she said again, but with such joy that DragonStar had to fight back more tears.
"Thank you."
Chapter 69
Light and Love
Qeteb slogged his way through the ploughed field, cursing and grunting. He had to be able to get out of here somehow. After all, wasn't he destined to win? Hadn't his Demons won out against DragonStar's pitiful witches, three against two?
That he was still in the Maze, Qeteb had no doubt. The ridges and furrows of the ploughed earth did not run even or straight. Instead they formed twists and conundrums, and Qeteb knew that if only he could find his way through the puzzle of the field, he would win his freedom.
For his companions he cared naught. They had served their usefulness — nay! They had become a liability, and Qeteb was glad to be rid of them.
No doubt they were already writhing on the end of the pretty StarSon's sword.
Well, there they could stay for all Qeteb cared. He could exist without them, whereas they were nothing without him.
He grinned, and slogged on, dragging each foot up from the earth before sinking it down again.
His grin faded. Damn this!
The clamour of hounds sounded again, this time much closer, and Qeteb stopped and swung his head around, his eyes staring.
Far distant, far, far distant, he thought he could see a horse and rider.
The Hunter coursed, his stallion dancing over the earth, his hounds streaming out behind him.
He was his mother's son.
Behind the hounds ambled a bear cub, its mouth gaping in a cheerful grin.
