"Come back," Caelum said, wistfully, and DragonStar nodded, and drew the doorway of light with his sword.
DareWing wheeled above the ruins of Star Finger, the ghostly apparitions of his force dipping and swaying about him. He was lost in his memories of his early years spent in and about the mountain. Now it was broken and destroyed, and would never prove a safe haven for the Icarii race again.
Nothing in Tencendor would, come to that.
"Strike Leader."
A soft voice above his right wing snapped DareWing out of his reverie.
"What is it?"
There was a silence, and DareWing regretted his sharp tone. "I am sorry. What do you need to tell me, Mirror Wing?"
MirrorWing — or the being that had once been MirrorWing — pointed to a canyon below.
"I think someone down there is trying to attract our attention."
DareWing looked down, and could not stop his exclamation of surprise.
WolfStar thought they'd never see him. Curses! What was wrong with their star-damned eyes?
But then, what were they to start with? The creatures were Icarii-shaped, but their bodies were indistinct, almost transparent.
And their wings ... WolfStar knew that Enchanters would have committed murder to understand the spells that made these wings glow with such incandescent colour.
Wolf Star waved an arm slowly, trying to get them to hurry up. Stars, but every movement was agony! He'd only fallen some twenty or thirty paces — bouncing from rock wall to rock wall —
down the chasm before he'd tumbled onto a rock ledge that sloped backwards under an overhang. By the time StarLaughter had sent her merriment — her mad, mad merriment —
chasing down the chasm after him, he'd been hidden from view.
And from there WolfStar had painfully, drop by drop, handhold by handhold, clambered to the bottom of the chasm, and then hauled himself along its rock-littered floor until he'd emerged into what passed for sunlight in this northern devastation.
And there he'd lain, thinking over StarLaughter's words: Caelum not the StarSon? Well, it made sense. The idiot had been useless against Qeteb. WolfStar's mouth curled in a small smile. The true StarSon was still out there somewhere, still controlling power. And WolfStar knew there was not a man alive he could not manipulate and eventually control. He would regain power again, but first he needed to know who the true StarSon was.
"Who?" he whispered. "Who?" That bitch StarLaughter had distracted him before he could force an answer from her ...
He looked up again at the soft sound of wings. Perhaps a score of the Icarii-creatures were now only some fifty paces above him, and dropping fast.
With them was a more conventional Icarii birdman — at least he had a solid enough body, although he was incongruously dressed in a white linen tunic and sandals.
"Well," WolfStar said, as the group landed about him, "at least you do not seem demon-mad, even if the majority of you look a trifle vitreous. What has happened? Has the loss of the Star Dance bled you of your solidness?"
"Loss of life," said one, a female by the lightness of her voice, "has made us less fleshy than what we were wont to be."
"Who are you?" said WolfStar, wondering if he was going to spend the rest of his life asking: Who?
"Who are you?" said the one flesh-solid Icarii among them.
WolfStar rolled slightly so he could stare the birdman in the face. "I am WolfStar SunSoar and I demand you take me to the StarSon."
The birdman laughed, and, raising his eyes to a spot somewhere behind Wolf Star, said, "I think he comes to greet you, renegade."
And WolfStar rolled over, groaning, and stared to the east.
A man and a white horse had emerged from a canyon, and the horse's mane and tail dripped with stars.
"Gods," WolfStar whispered as he finally recognised the man's face.
"Well met, WolfStar," DragonStar said, and grinned. "I should have known that you would somehow survive the Demons' attentions."
WolfStar could barely manage to keep his face bland as the man dismounted from his horse and walked towards him. Drago? The StarSon? And, ye gods, feel the power that radiated from him!
"And I should have known," WolfStar responded softly, "that you'd always find a way to realise your ambition, Drago."
"DragonStar," he corrected, and squatted by WolfStar's side, running a gentle hand over the Enchanter's body. "You are hurt. Badly."
"I have been out and about," WolfStar said, "while others donned pretty clothes." He flicked his eyes over Dare Wing and the members of the Strike Force that had gathered around.
DragonStar's face tightened, but he did not respond to WolfStar's taunt. "Whose blood is this?"
"Caelum's."
DragonStar rocked back on his heels in surprise. "Caelum's? You were there when Qeteb —"
"Killed him? Yes. The fool boy, he walked straight onto the tip of the Demon's sword. Had you enchanted him into stupidity, Drago? Or was it a natural fault ... Caelum ever had a sackful of those."
DragonStar reached out and buried his fingers in WolfStar's hair, and the birdman winced in pain.
