"I cannot, Azhure. I cannot leave him. I know I should ... but I cannot."

Azhure, almost panicked by the resignation in her daughter's voice, began to protest when a shadow fell over them.

It was WolfStar, with three of the Lake Guard in close attendance.

"Azhure," he said, and nodded at her. "How are you these days? No, please, I don't truly want an answer. Family reunions were never my strength. Zenith. Come. It is cold by the fire without you."

For a heartbeat or two Zenith hesitated, feeling the warmth of her mother's arms about her, seeing WolfStar's hand stretched out for hers.

She hesitated still further, desperately wanting to stay locked within the protective warmth and love of her mother's encircling arms, but knowing that, in the end, she could not.

And at that realisation, Zenith felt such a profound sense of doom that she almost let go of life completely. She struggled frantically against a black insanity, battled, then won, but feeling herself the loser even in that victory.

Resigned and compliant, she pushed back her mother's arms and let WolfStar draw her to her feet.

As he turned to take Zenith back to the fire, WolfStar looked Azhure in the eye. "Tell StarDrifter to go back to his meaningless seductions, for he has lost the battle for the jewel."

And with that, they were gone.

Azhure stared after them, not comprehending, and not wanting to. Then she somehow managed to rise to her feet and, through a blur of tears, wend her way back to Axis and StarDrifter to tell them they'd lost a daughter and a lover.

Chapter 43

StarLaughter's Quest

DragonStar's five witches needed time, space and peace in which to prepare themselves, and the Strike Force were there to give them every possible chance of having it.

Of the five, Gwendylyr needed to prepare fastest, for she would be tested first.

"What can I do for you?" said DeepNote, the Wing Leader in overall charge of the three Wing who protected Gwendylyr. It was still night time, and the majority of the Strike Force huddled inside the cave, clinging to rocks as they could. "What do you need?"

"Peace, and a few days in which to construct my ..."

"Trap?"

Gwendylyr hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Not a trap. A fork."

"A fork?" DeepNote shifted from foot to foot, and glanced at his lieutenant.

Gwendylyr smiled, but it was sad. "I do not construct a trap for the Demon — for to do that would be to fall into his own trap. No, what I do is rather to construct a fork in his road, a fork where he must choose freedom or servitude."

"And what will that do?" DeepNote said.

"It will destroy him or it will save him," Gwendylyr said, "and the Demon will not relish either choice."

"How will you build this 'fork'?" asked MirrorWing, DeepNote's lieutenant.

Now Gwendylyr grinned broadly. "By doing what I do best," she said. "By making up a list."

And while the two birdmen looked perplexed, Gwendylyr moved away to a free spot and sat down, arranging her features calmly, closing her eyes, and meditating.

Both birdmen — indeed, all the Strike Force members who were in the cave — could feel the power emanating from her, but they could not yet see what enchantment it was she was constructing from her Acharite magic.

"A list?" MirrorWing muttered.

DeepNote sighed. "Well, we must do what we can, and I fear there will be a great deal to do.

Gwendylyr, as all five witches, will act as a lodestone to the crazed who populate this wasteland. Within hours, we will be surrounded again."

MirrorWing's face tightened, and his silvery-grey body swayed slightly in his eagerness.

"Then we will be useful, for every creature we kill —"

"Transforms and moves on," DeepNote murmured.

"— will be one less corruption to free Tencendor of."

DeepNote hesitated, then nodded. "Aye. We each have our own tasks to do."

And he turned away and moved to speak quietly to the Wing.

Gwendylyr opened one eye as he walked away, then closed it and smiled gently.

She was deep in contemplation of domestic servants and the chaos they could cause when left to run amok.

StarLaughter had found the decision about what to do a difficult one. After she'd left DragonStar — how could he not see that Wolf Star would welcome her with open arms? — StarLaughter had returned to the deep, undamaged vaults of Star Finger. There, she'd spent several hours rummaging until she had found what she needed.

The implements of seduction.

Perfumes, powders, face paints. Bangles, pendants, earrings. Corsets, bustiers, veils. Nail varnishes, hair brighteners, wing softeners. Creams, potions, smoothers. Gold, silks, brocades.

Most of these StarLaughter packed into a small bag. Her implements were small-sized, and the silks and jewellery could fit into the smallest of spaces.

What she could not fit into the bag, StarLaughter fitted onto her person, for who knew when she'd come face to face with WolfStar again! Best to be prepared, best to look her best now, just in case.

So she perfumed, painted and powdered. She draped, tightened and revealed. She varnished, pampered and pandered.

StarLaughter made herself beautiful. She sparkled, and all for WolfStar.

"He won't be able to resist me!" she said, preening before the mirror, and tugging at the heavy silk fabric she'd chosen to don.

The fact that StarLaughter had a reasonable hike before her did not deter her from donning such finery. She would manage. She had to.

StarLaughter picked up her bag, lifted her skirts, and set out on her conquest.

She had a quest, one that was right and true and good, and she was happy. WolfStar would realise his true love for her, and then, united, they could rescue their son.

DragonStar had been right, StarLaughter had finally, reluctantly, decided, when he'd said that WolfStar and those he was with (who could surely be discarded once their purpose was done) would head south rather than swing west along the Icebear Coast. WolfStar's companions would want the south's relative warmth — and StarLaughter's mouth smiled sarcastically whenever she thought about what they'd find there — rather than a continuance of the northern icy wastes.