"Why are we here?" Caimbeui asked. I had been waiting for him to get around to it, but I was sur- prised it took him so long. Perhaps he had gained some patience over the years.
"I wanted to get in touch with Thais," I said. "When last we spoke, he was in this area."
"Thais?"
"My child."
After I left Europe and Caimbeul's warm em- brace, I came to America. I was achingly lonely for him, a fact that, in retrospect, seems rather foolish and trivial. But there it was. The rumors of the Great Ghost Dance had brought me here, or so I told my- self. What I was really about was trying to forget Caimbeui and make something new out of my life.
I took a westbound train from New York to Saint Louis. Then I caught a stage to Sioux Falls. I knew Wovoka (he also used the Anglo name Jack Wilson, I recall) had convinced the Sioux that they had to use the great ritual magics to rid themselves of the whites and bring down retribution on their heads. He was right, of course, but wrong about the time.
The world wouldn't have enough magical energy in it for another hundred and thirty years.
But what concerned me was the news of his "vi- sions." He claimed that God was sending him mes- sages. I suspected there was another explanation, one I hated to consider: Thais.
I thought I'd stopped this passion of Thais's for popping up and causing mystical visions in magical- thinking cultures, but he was at it again. As I rode on the stage, my spine feeling as though it were be- ing pounded through the ill-sprung seat and dust and dirt settling into everything I owned, I hoped I was early enough to put a stop to things before they blew out of hand.
By the time I reached Batesland, news was al- ready making its way east about the massacre at Wounded Knee. I was too late.
It didn't stop me from looking for Thais. I knew I needed to rein him in again. How I hated the thought of another confrontation with him.
"I was wondering when you would come."
Thais.
He was hidden in the shadows of a low-hanging outcropping of rock. I wanted to see him, but, as if he knew that was my wish, he remained back in the darkness.
The wasted scenery of the Badlands spread out around me. It reminded me too much of how the world was after the Scourge. And to see Thais here, in this ruined place made me sad and angry at the same time. I'd told Thais that the world was not the one he had grown accustomed to. That he must learn to change-but he refused.
My child.
Even after all these many centuries, I still worried about him. Wanted to know that he was safe. Would he ever forgive me for bringing him into a world that would never understand him?
"Hello, Thais," I said. "I see you've been busy."
Thais shrugged and looked a bit bewildered. "I don't understand," he said. "The magic should have worked." A frown crossed his face and I wanted to hold him and comfort him, but I knew that would not be allowed. It frightened me sometimes, how much he grew like his father.
"Magic isn't as powerful now," I said. "You know that. Why did you lead them to this destruction?"
"They loved me," Thais said. "It was just like in the old days. They looked at me and they didn't see a monster-they saw me. I was trying to help them. All they wanted was to have their land back. I could give that to them." He looked mournful. It made my heart ache. "I should have been able to give them that."
"Once," I said, "you might have. But no more. Those days are gone. Thais, you must stop this. I know what you've been doing. Those stone heads they dug up in the bed of the Trinity River. From the Pleistocene. I heard them described as obviously not human. My god, Thais, it was you. How could you have let them see you revealed?
"And what about Indochina? At least you tried to disguise your shape, but a seven-headed snake god?
I've told you that we aren't to interfere. There's too much at risk. What if they'd discovered what you re- ally are? They might have killed you."
"I'm as hard to kill as my parents," he said, bit- terly. "I am what you've made me. There is no place in this or any other world where I may live peace- fully. Why did you make me?"
I looked away. Thais was right, of course. He never should have been born. But I was mad at the time. Out of my mind with remorse and grief. Self- ish Aina.
"You must not do this again," I said. "It will only end in ruin. If not for you, then for your followers. Even now, when the magic is at a low ebb, you still, by your nature, have some power. Why don't you use it responsibly?"
"Oh, that's rich," he said, laughing harshly. Even so, it made me want to hold him and gaze into his eyes. Such power in my child. "You-talking about responsibility. You don't have the right."
"Mark my words, Thais. These tragedies will con- tinue if you don't do something about it."
"What would you have me do. Mother? Exile my- self to some mountaintop the way you did? Hide myself and live in isolation until the world is some- thing else again? I need them and they need me. You cannot imagine how I feel when they look at me and love me. When they fall to their knees and beg for my blessing and I give it to them. I was born to be a god. To be adored and worshipped. You can't take that away from me."
"I'm not trying to take anything away from you…"
"You took my father away."
"Don't be a fool, Thais," I said. "That was an ac- cident of birth."
He shrugged and looked away. I knew there was no use discussing this further. Thais had shut off from me, and nothing I could do or say would make any difference. How I wished that things could be different between us, but I knew I could as much wish for the moon for all the good it would do me.
And so we stood there, in that bare and barren place, divided by worlds and walls and the past that could never be undone.
She floats in a warm embrace. Hands touch her. Stroke her. Caress her until she trembles. Opening her eyes, she sees a faceless man. This doesn't frighten her-it's what she wants. To fall into the comfort of anonymity.
Safe and nameless.
17
"How are you going to contact Thais?" Caimbeui asked.
"A summoning," I said. "His nature is such that he won't be able to resist. I wish it hadn't come to this, but we haven't spoken in so many years. Since that terrible time after Wounded Knee."
"Why didn't you just call him up while we were in Tfr na n6g?"
"Too many enemies there," I said. "And Ala- chia doesn't know about Thais. At least not as far as I know.'I would keep it that way. There are some things she should never know. And I want him to be on my ground. Not his; not someone else's."
A wave of exhaustion swept over me. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to go and sleep for the rest of my natural life. But I didn't have that choice. There was too much at stake. I got up and walked back into the house.
Caimbeui drew the drapes as I turned off all but one light. Though it made little difference to my casting, I preferred less light. That way I could con- centrate on what was happening with the spell rather than my surroundings.
"This would be a lot simpler if you let me help," said Caimbeui.
The edges of the room faded back into shadows. The few pieces of furniture still covered in sheets looked ghostly against the far walls. The night noises were muffled by the drapes. Occasionally, I could still hear the drone of a low-flying Lone Star Security chopper.
"Are you ready?" I asked. I wasn't sure which of us I was asking.
Caimbeui nodded and stepped back into the shad- ows. I knew if anything untoward happened, he would take care of me.
Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I let myself relax and block everything out but the spell I was about to perform.
I saw Thais in my mind. As he was when he was born, then later when I finally met him again. Grown up and changed into something so like me, and so like his father, that I wept until he made me stop with his voice and eyes.
That was Thais's gift, after all.
As I pictured him in my mind, I let myself slip into astral space. There was t
he usual nauseating tug as 1 slipped between the veils. The ribbons flowed around me and into me until I couldn't tell the dif- ference between them and myself. I was filled with the power. Exhilarating and fierce. This was what I was bom to. I never doubted myself here. Here I knew who and what I was.
The veils parted as I remembered my task. I reached out my will, calling Thais to me. Command- ing him to come to my summons.
Time passed interminably slow. Then sped to light.
I float then fall.
The universe is around me. Inside me. I am the universe: waiting and watching.
Across worlds I come. Through the blazing heat of a thousand suns. From the Void. Into the dark- ness.
From the darkness, I pull light.
My child.
Some things you cannot resist. The bond between a mother and child.
The brilliance of Thais blinds me as I pull him closer and closer.
Come to me, child.
And he cannot refuse.
Then we are falling. Falling through space and time. Back to earth.
"What do you want?"
Thais was standing in the center of the room. A circle of blue energy surrounded him. I waved it away and he relaxed visibly.
"Was that really necessary?" he asked.
"Would you have come if I asked?"
He shook his head. "You abandoned me long ago. Why should I do you any favors now?"
I had hoped that old hurt had passed. But no, I was not to be forgiven any of my sins. Thais was still a child in so many ways. I had protected him too well.
"Very well, Thais, consider it a demand then," I said wearily. "I haven't the energy to fight with you about this now. There are other, more important, matters at hand."
Thais slid along the floor and pulled himself up onto the couch with his powerful arms. His thick, snake-like tail wrapped around his torso once, then hung down off the edge of his seat onto the floor.
"What does the Great and Powerful Aina want of me today? Perhaps I should go to the Wicked Witch of the West and retrieve her broom. Maybe I'll throw water on her and watch as she melts into brown sugar. Or there is always popping down a rab- bit hole… Which will it be?"
"Mind your manners, junior," said Caimbeul. "That's your mother you're addressing."
Both Thais and I turned toward him, open- mouthed. He shrugged.
"I think you've coddled him, Aina," said Caimbeul. "You've always protected him from… the world."
"Coddled?" Thais said. "You call being bom a monster coddled? Look at me. Why did she make me? It was her selfishness…"
"Oh, grow up," snapped Caimbeul. "This isn't about you…"
"Thank you," I interjected. "But why don't you let me get on with it?"
"Very well, but-"
I held my hand up and Caimbeul fell silent. A tight expression set on his face and I knew he was angry. It made me feel very warm inside.
I turned to Thais.
"Ysrthgrathe is back," I said.
Thais didn't say anything.
"Has he contacted you?" I asked.
"Why would I tell you if he had?" he asked.
"Thais, he's a liar. He spreads his misery that way. I know you want to believe… only the best."
"You don't know what I want," Thais said. "Why should I trust you more than him?"
"You know what he is," I said. "I've never kept that from you. There is more at stake here than your grudge against me. If he is back, then the world is at risk."
Thais rolled his eyes.
"It's always so dramatic with you, Mother," he said. His voice was that of a smirky, sarcastic fifteen-year-old. "How is it that you're always on hand to save the country, the planet, the universe? Don't you ever get tired?"
"Yes, Thais, I get very tired. I am intensely weary right now."
His tail twitched and tapped against the floor. The scales that covered his skin were iridescent and gleamed in the low light. I wondered what happened when he had to shed his skin. So many little details about his life I didn't know.
"Very well," Thais said. "I'll tell you. He is here, on this plane. He contacted me a few days ago. But he didn't come to me in person-I had a dream. It was so vivid, unlike any other dream I've ever had.
"He explained… everything. He told me why you hated him. Told me the truth."
Caimbeui made an ugly noise and I looked over at him. A frown pulled at his mouth and he gave me a Why-the-frag-don't-you-just-shut-the-little- wackweed-up? look. I doubted he'd ever had chil- dren. I couldn't expect him to understand.
Thais had uncoiled himself from the couch and was slithering along the floor to the doors leading outside.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Outside for some fresh air," he replied.
I followed him. The temperature had dropped more than I expected. I rubbed my arms as goose- flesh broke out. We stayed there for a long time, wrapped in night sounds.
"Thais," I said at last. "I know I've been a disap- pointment to you. All those years apart, then later, when things turned bad for all of us. But…"
"Shut up," he said, turning violently toward me. "Just stop talking. How do you think I felt when he came to me? How could I deny him? You've cursed me with him."
He began to weep then. Terrible wracking sobs 136
that shook his frame. I wanted to go and embrace him, but I was afraid to. Afraid that he would reject me again. Oh, what agony it was to hear him in pain. I wondered how Caimbeui could resist the sound of it, for it tore me inside. Like I'd swallowed glass.
I forced myself to wait and watch until his tears began to dry and he seemed more in control of himself.
"Thais," I said. "I am so sorry. I never wanted you to have to face this. I tried to protect you."
"I know," he said. His voice was shaky and rough. "But you haven't been very good at that. Have you?"
And how could I answer that? But I suspect he didn't mean me to.
I don't know how long we stood there in the chill- ing night air. The stars frosted the sky in diamond- hard brightness. Then, later, I noticed that the black sky was turning purple-gray.
"What did he say?" I asked at last. I felt drained and exhausted. So empty that it didn't matter what he told me.
"He said you would come for me. He told me that you would try to stop him and it would do you no good." Thais's voice sounded weary. I wondered how I could help him, but then I realized there was nothing I could do for him now. That there are some things a parent cannot do for her child.
"Did he tell you if there were any other of the Enemy here?" I asked.
"No," Thais said. "But I didn't sense any others. I have always been sensitive to that sort of thing. 137
Your friend," he said, giving a jerk of his head to- ward the house. "He managed to stop something from happening a while ago. But the world has more than one point of entry. They are there waiting. Waiting for the moment when they can return."
"Did he say anything else?" I asked. "Anything at all might be important."
"Only that he's been waiting for you to come to him."
The sky was light now, moon hanging low against the horizon, looking strange and out of place so near the sunrise. We stood there in silence as the night fled from the day.
Aina sits before an old woman who has black witchy-hair and who wears gypsy colors. The air here is thick with incense and patchouli.
"Cut the cards," the woman says. Aina does so, feeling the coolness of the deck beneath her fingers.
The reading begins.
The cards lie face down-hidden and hiding their meanings. The first is turned up. The old woman gasps.
The Devil.
In a moment, he's crossed by the Moon and crowned by the Tower.
Aina shoves away from the table, unwilling to see what comes next.
"But you don't know how it ends, " the old woman says.
"Why should I want to know?" Aina says. "After all, they're nothing but a pack of car
ds."
18
"You must send me back," Thais said.
We'd returned to the darkened interior of my liv- ing room shortly after sunrise. Thais was not fond of the light. He said it was too cruel. 139
"Why don't you stay here with me?" I asked. Caimbeui gave me a sharp look, which I ignored.
"I cannot," Thais said. "And you know why. But there is something I will tell you. Ysrthgrathe is not the only one of the Enemy here. There is another, just as subtle and as deadly."
"But where… how…"
"Deal with Ysrthgrathe first," Thais said.
I tried to get him to tell me more, but he refused. Finally, I had no other choice than to send him back.
The house seemed empty after Thais was gone. How I wanted to spend time with him. Get to know him. Figure out his peculiarities. But I had denied myself that long ago. And there was no going into the past to fix things.
We closed up the house again. Sheets covered the furniture. The alarms were set. I didn't look back as we drove away.
PART II
Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
– Susan Ertz
She sleeps. And dreams. Safe happy dreams of times never lived and not imagined. They comfort her and calm her until she sinks. Sinks down into the long black darkness of her night.
19
Once, a human discovered what I was.
Like most curious men, he thought that the knowl- edge would gain him something. As though knowl- edge is a safe thing. Inert and powerless on its own.
It was 1998.
Fin de siecle fever was at an all-time high. There were riots and hysterical sightings of UFOs, messi- ahs, and dead celebrities. I'd bought my home in Scotland a few years earlier for an obscenely cheap price. An earldom, no less. Imagine, me a countess. It was to laugh.
Worlds Without End s-18 Page 9
