Axis,” said Georgdi, “I don’t like to mention this, but I’ve heard a rumor that you discovered your connection to the Star Dance a week or so past. I don’t suppose you could, ah, shed a little light on our current predicament?”
Axis roused himself from the light doze he’d fallen into. “Georgdi, I am sorry. I had gotten too used to not being able to use the Star Dance.”
A phrase of soft music ran among the four occupants of the pit, and the next moment a soft light illumed their surroundings.
Everyone blinked.
“I’m not so sure the light was a good idea,” said Axis.
No one looked their best. They had all been treated roughly by Armat’s men and were dirty and bruised. Inardle looked even worse: her abrasions and wounds were now surrounded by deep bruises, and Axis thought he could see some grazes and marks on her arms that hadn’t been there previously. In the time he’d known her, Inardle had always looked immaculate—her clothes simple yet elegant, her hair carefully arranged to best advantage atop her head. Now her clothes were filthy and torn, and her hair half tumbled down her shoulders.
In this soft light it looked part silver, part rosy, and it reminded Axis a little of the pyramids the Lealfast had given Lister and Isaiah.
She looked very vulnerable, and very lovely, even through the bruises and grime.
Axis realized he was staring, and looked away.
“You can’t use that power to aid us escape?” Zeboath said to Axis. He probably looked the best of the quartet, but even so his eyes were ringed with exhaustion and his skin was unnaturally pale.
Axis gave a little shake of his head. “While I have managed to reconnect to the Star Dance, it is in a different manner than previously. The Dance is all about me, but far more subtle than what I could hear when it thundered through the Star Gate. I am still learning to use it in this form, learning its nuances. I have nowhere near the power I had as StarMan—” he grinned “—even though that title is once again being bandied about, and only a tiny percentage of what I commanded as Star God. Inardle, no doubt, would sneer at my limited capabilities. The Enchanter cannot rescue you from this pit, Zeboath, but I hold out hope for the man.”
“I do not sneer at you, Axis,” Inardle said. “I could not have provided that light with my own command of the Star Dance.” She paused, glancing at him with an awkward expression. “Thank you for the light. It is most welcome and more than comforting.”
Axis felt a little ashamed of his anger toward her earlier; she was not to blame for Eleanon’s stupidity.
“You use the Star Dance differently from Icarii Enchanters,” he said to her. “Would you explain to me how?”
Inardle sat thinking for a little while, and Axis thought she struggled with the Lealfast’s general tendency toward wrapping themselves in mystery in order to bolster their own importance.
Eventually, however, Inardle spoke.
“Before the Star Gate was destroyed,” she said, “you used music to access the Star Dance. You literally heard the Star Dance, and thus your command over its power was vast. Now, I believe you access the Dance by vision, by ‘reading’ it in the fall of dust motes, the way a woman’s skirt ruffles in the wind, the clouds in the sky.”
“Yes,” Axis said, “and in suddenly realizing we can read it, we realize the Star Dance is still all around us, and once again we allow it to filter through our bodies. It is a paler version of what once we heard, but it is still there.”
“We are not so fortunate,” said Inardle, moving ever deeper into her deception. “I, like all the Lealfast, need to literally feel the movement of the Star Dance—wind, usually. In here, in this windless pit, I am powerless. Even when outside among the elements, our use of the Dance is limited. We could not, for example, do what you just did in providing light. Our abilities are largely centered on movement, on the ability to fly with the Dance through the air. It is pretty, and useful, but limited in scope. Possibly that is because…”
“Of your Skraeling blood,” said Axis. “But then, I had a human mother and am only half Icarii, and that has not affected my ability to use the Star Dance. My wife, Azhure, is the same. She is exceptionally powerful, but also had a human mother.”
“The Skraeling blood corrupts us,” said Inardle. “It limits us.”
“You are very ambivalent about your Skraeling heritage,” said Axis.
“We want more than anything to escape it,” Inardle said. She paused, then spoke again. “You asked once why we are so loyal to Maxel as Lord of Elcho Falling.”
“You spun a pretty tale about legends and whispers, as I remember,” Axis said.
“It was true enough, but there is more depth to it. We loathe our Skraeling blood, loathe it.” She paused, her teeth gleaming in the low light. “Almost as much as we despise our Icarii heritage. We yearn for the day when we can be free of both Skraeling and Icarii blood and be pure Lealfast, not half-breeds. We want to own our heritage and our blood, not be indebted to two races who loathe us for the taint of the other.
“Those icy whispers told us that the only one who had enough power to manage this for us was the Lord of Elcho Falling. We have yearned for him, Axis. We thought him the one who could save us, offer us the salvation of our own identity, our own future. But…”
“But?” Axis said.
“But now we hear that Maximilian wields only a fraction of what the ancient Lords of Elcho Falling once commanded.”
“Who told you that?” Axis said.
Inardle shrugged. “General camp gossip,” she said. “Is it true?”
Now it was Axis who hesitated. “Yes.”
Inardle sighed. “Then there is no hope for us, Axis. None. Who else can aid us, if not Maximilian?”
Axis didn’t respond to that, and the group sat quietly for a while. They could hear the sounds of the encampment above them, horses moving, men talking and occasionally laughing, the clatter of cooks’ pans and weapons being cleaned.
Axis found himself focusing on the clatter of cooks’ pans, and the faint aroma of meat cooking, and tried to forget how hungry he was.
Some time passed, then everyone jumped as a grating noise came from above them.
Several of the large logs of wood rolled away and daylight flooded the pit.
A soldier leaned in: Risdon.
“Armat wants to see you, Axis.”