bination of will power and enormous physical strength

that had kept Motor-Head going and had led to this last ditch attempt

to block his escape. The Mute was going to die, and he intended to

take Steve down with him.

Steve tried to prise Motor-Head's fingers loose with one hand but it

was useless. He couldn't even budge one little finger. Blue-Bird

began to slip to the left. Steve hauled it back on an even keel then

lost it again as it went into a steep dive. He was out over the plain

now, about eight hundred feet up. He had to dump the Mute before he

lost any more height. He was going to have to cut him loose...

Reaching back with his right hand, he tried to claw his combat knife

out of the scabbard strapped to his leg. He couldn't get a proper grip

on it.

It didn't matter. The Mute was now struggling wildly to maintain his

grip on the bar.

Motor-Head's eyes widened as he realised that he no longer had the

strength to hold on. The dying burst of energy he had summoned up in a

last effort to kill the cloud309

warrior ebbed away. This was the terrible moment he had often dreamed

of; the unspeakable horror that had robbed him of sleep, leaving him

sweating and trembling in the moon-dark. Falling. Falling from the

claws of a huge bird with pointed wings, ridden by a warrior with

golden hair and a face like polished stone. His fingers slowly slipped

from the control bar. Hanging on with one hand he made one last effort

to grab Steve by the throat then, with a despairing cry, he dropped

away, arms outstretched.

Mo-Town! Drink, sweet Mother...

Steve soared upwards like a bird released from a cage.

Cadillac, Clearwater and Mr Snow reached the edge of the bluff in time

to see the figure fall away from the arrowhead.

As the body crashed to earth, the watchers heard a brief cry of

anguish, a cry echoed by Cadillac.

'Mo-Towq, forgive me! I have killed my clan-brother!" 'Not so,'

replied Mr Snow quietly. 'Do you not remember the answer you gave when

the cloud-warrior asked why Motor-Head called him the Death Bringer?"

'Yes. I said that perhaps the death he feared was his own."

'Good. Do you now understand that, in sending him here, you changed

nothing? In attempting to change your destiny, all you succeeded in

doing was to play your part in fulfilling his."

'I shall still grieve for him, Wise One,' said Cadillac.

'We all shall,' said Mr Snow. 'His name shall stand among the greatest

of the M'Calls." The old wordsmith stepped to the edge of the bluff

and stood between his two young charges, his feet planted firmly

astride, arms folded, his body erect.

On the far horizon, the sky was streaked with yellow and hot rose-pink

as the sun nudged open the eastern door. No one spoke as the

cloud-warrior was borne aloft on the morning wind. They watched him

rise into the sky and bank gently towards the Dry Lands of the South.

Cadillac knew he would not speak to Clearwater of what he had seen in

the stone regarding her desire for the sand-burrower.

There would be no accusations, or recriminations. The Path was drawn;

the Cosmic Wheel turned. The true Warrior faced his destiny with

courage; he did not allow himself to be deflected from the Path by

unworthy emotions. The rising sun stretched their shadows into giants

whose heads were lost in the mountains behind them.

Clearwater waited until the arrowhead had dwindled to a mere speck in

the sky then broke the silence. 'Will he come back?" she asked,

unsure if she really wanted to know the answer to that question.

'Yes, in the time of the New Earth,' replied Cadillac. 'I have seen it

in the stones. He will come in the guise of a frie. nd with Death

hiding in his shadow and he will carry you away on a river of blood."

Clearwater gazed out across the plain that descended like a rolling sea

beyond the bluff and up at the clouds rimming the hills on the southern

horizon. The yellowing sky above was now empty. Steve had

disappeared. 'Am I to die in the darkness of their world, or will I

live to see the sun again?"