The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

by Constantine, Storm

  ‘Diablo, anger and hatred are a sour code to live by,’ Cal said. ‘I know. Can you be redeemed? I could take you to your hostling. You could live with him, if you’d only give up your purpose to destroy us.’

  For a few mournful moments, Diablo saw the truth in Cal’s words. He saw himself with Ponclast again. His heart hung in the balance. But it was short-lived. He could not live as a Gelaming prisoner, whether it was with Ponclast or not. His head snapped up. ‘I’d rather die than submit to your will!’ With these words, he leapt for Cal’s throat, meaning to tear it open with his teeth.

  Cal staggered back with the impact, then flowed with it. Diablo found himself falling forwards as Cal virtually floated back to the ground. He looked into Cal’s deep violet eyes, which were serene. ‘It’s your choice,’ Cal said. He flexed his body and became partly etheric. He plunged his right hand into Diablo’s chest and closed his fingers around the heart. ‘You poor wretch,’ Cal said. ‘Did you really think you could be stronger than me? I end it now, Diablo. I release you. If you ever return, do so in light.’

  For a brief moment before the darkness took him, Diablo cried out like a desperate harling. The horror and loneliness of his existence crashed through him. Ultimately, he gave himself willingly.

  At the very moment that Cal stopped Diablo’s heart, Darq’s mind found a quiet place in the middle of madness, and here he regained his identity. He saw what was happening and the senselessness of it. While his etheric body still battled with Loki, his inner mind came to a quiet realisation: he did not have to win this fight to be victorious. The way to win was simply to end it.

  All around Thanatep, immense presences hung in the sky like pulsing vessels of light. They were beyond form; the Aasp and the Zehk. Darq observed them and could only perceive them as greedy, selfish beings. They were spectators, gloatingly watching the destruction of the realm that had been designed to control them. They were without compassion or feeling of any kind. All they craved was the essence of realms and the nourishment it gave them.

  A soft feminine voice flowed through Darq’s being: become yourself again. It was Divozenky.

  Darq paused for a moment longer, gazing around his inner self, with a wistful fondness. I like the har that I am. Thank you, Divozenky. Then he willed himself back into a corporeal form. He would not be an instrument in the schemes of selfish beings.

  The moment Darq made this decision, he was free of Loki’s assault in the upper air. He did not fall to the ground, but merely found himself there, kneeling before Mutandis. For some seconds, the realm was utterly still. Darq was entirely surrounded by a ring of Thanax, but was not afraid of them. Although they were strange to look upon, they possessed their own beauty; attenuated forms with smoking eyes and waving hair. They might have come to feed, but they were not hostile to him, as Loki was. They also had a keen interest in what was happening, even if they didn’t know why they did. Darq could sense that more and more of them were being attracted to this site. Did they have a purpose or were they only witnesses? Their ghostly hair waved in the soft breezes of Thanatep, their smoking eyes were fixed upon him.

  Darq shifted his body and was conscious of the deep wounds to his flesh, but he could feel no pain. His head became filled with a high-pitched sound like the song of a celestial choir. There were sedim near too, and Hashmallim with their fearsome teraphim. The Aasp and the Zehk hung silent and immense above them all.

  Darq heard the sound of footsteps, and looked up to see that Loki had also assumed his normal form and now stood panting before him. Loki’s eyes were wide, their expression manic. For just a short time, there was peace between them. Loki’s whole body shook. His clothes were torn, his body rent by deep gouges. He wiped his mouth with the back of one trembling hand, his hair hanging over his eyes. Like Darq, he was covered in blood. Darq saw before him a vision of Cal, but a Cal he had never known, who had murder in his heart.

  Loki never took his eyes from Darq’s. He pulled a knife from his belt and turned the blade round and around in his hands. So far, he hadn’t used it.

  Above them, the amorphous entities expressed a wave of irritation. Why had the fight ceased? The towers still stood; the work was not finished.

  Darquiel opened his arms. He felt faint from loss of blood but had to hang on to consciousness. ‘Do you still want to kill me, brother?’

  Loki’s posture became stooped. ‘You’re not my brother. You’re a wrongness. I can see it.’ He uttered a low growl and a few stones tumbled down from Mutandis.

  ‘I won’t fight you, Loki,’ Darquiel said. ‘It’s what they want.’

  ‘I don’t want to fight you either,’ Loki said. ‘I just have to do what has to be done. You must be unmade.’

  Darq sensed then a feeling of concern from the vast incorporeal entities around them. This was not the way it was supposed to proceed. Emanations of violent emotion pulsed out from them, with the intent to feed Loki and Darq’s animosity. Darq would not let it into him. He wished there was another way for this to end, but there wasn’t. He knew it in his being. He knew it from Divozenky. And he was not afraid.

  ‘Tell Caeru,’ he said, ‘that I demanded this from you.’

  Loki appeared uncertain for a moment. Darq could tell it was in his mind to drop the knife.

  ‘No,’ Darq said. ‘If we do this, they lose all power over us. Trust me.’

  Loki raised his arm.

  From behind him, a voice cried, ‘No!’

  Darq saw a har he did not know running towards them, Geburael some distance behind.

  To Darquiel, they moved in slow motion. He tore open his shirt. ‘Do it now,’ he said. ‘Loki, you must!’

  Loki uttered a sobbing cry and lunged forward. He plunged the blade into Darquiel’s chest. It went in to the hilt. For a moment, he gazed into Darq’s eyes. Then he pulled out the blade and stabbed again. He would have carried on if Geburael and his companion had not thrown themselves upon him and dragged him back.

  Darquiel, who even throughout the assault had managed to keep fairly upright, knelt with his arms outflung, his head back, blood pouring down his body into the dust. He felt no pain and no fear. The tower ahead of him began to bloom with red radiance. It was incredibly beautiful. Through his blurring vision, Darq saw it reconstruct, stone by stone. A crimson beacon blazed at its summit: it was his life force.

  The Aasp and the Zehk were confused. Darq could sense it. They conferred among themselves, one faction with another, then began to withdraw. He could see them howling back through the layers of reality, furious with disobedient lesser beings, furious with each other. The sedim and the teraphim fought, as they often did. It would come, as always, to nothing.

  They might be more evolved than us, Darq thought, but in many ways, we’re superior to them.

  Divozenky whispered in his mind, his failing heart. Hush, my love. Lie back in me. I am with you. I always will be.

  Darquiel surrendered himself to the will of Divozenky. She had always known this would happen.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  When Cal returned to Thannaril, he had no idea what he’d find, but had entertained the hope that his destruction of Diablo would have had a positive effect. He was not prepared for what he saw.

  Lileem was hunched kneeling on the ground, her hair hanging forward. Darquiel lay in front of her, his head in her lap. All Cal saw at first was the redness; so much blood. He felt faint. He thought of Pellaz, another death a long time ago. That death had driven him mad for many years.

  Painfully, he scanned the scene. He saw Loki sitting nearby, his legs splayed out. He held a knife in his reddened hands. He looked mindless.

  No, Cal thought. Not this. It’s too cruel.

  Geburael was trying to staunch Darquiel’s wounds, but it was clear his efforts weren’t helping that much. Cal realised his wondrous son was dying. It was like a replay of ancient tragedies. Pellaz. Orien. This mustn’t be. Thoughts flashed through his mind; the possibility of taking Darquiel
back to Immanion through the otherlanes, or doing healing here himself. All of it would take too long.

  He fell to his knees beside Lileem. ‘I tried,’ he said. ‘I was too late.’

  Lileem turned her face to him, her expression full of anguish.

  Darquiel made a faint sound. He reached up with a bloody hand. Cal took hold of it, felt the weakness in its sinews. ‘No,’ Darq murmured. ‘You were exactly on time.’

  At that moment, Loki began to scream. It was the cry of a har beyond despair.

  ‘He had to do it,’ Darq murmured. ‘Don’t punish him, father.’

  ‘Geburael,’ Cal said. ‘Go to Loki.’

  Geburael lifted his hands from Darq’s chest. ‘He did ask Loki to do it. I heard him.’

  ‘Go to him,’ Cal said. Loki was not his son by blood. It seemed so unfair he’d been chosen to enact Cal’s destiny, to become him at his worst. A tower was alive, but the price had been too great. Anything would have been better than this; slavery to the Aasp or the Zehk.

  Geburael went to Loki’s side and tentatively touched his shoulder, but it appeared Loki didn’t realise he was there. Cal knew exactly how Loki felt. The aftermath of this day would be hideous, but for now they were still in the moment. Cal mustered his strengths. He was different to the har he’d once been.

  ‘Lileem,’ Cal said. ‘Is there anything you can do for Darquiel?’

  ‘He gave himself,’ she answered in a dull voice. ‘He’s still giving himself and will do until… until he’s all gone.’ Tears ran down her face. ‘Loki did what had to be done, and now he knows what he did.’

  Cal put his head in his hands. ‘We can’t lose them. We can’t.’

  The ring of Thanax, who had been watching silently, now began to draw closer. Their apparent leader stepped forth from the throng. Cal stared at this peculiar creature. And what is your part? he wondered.

  ‘We have to get away from here,’ Geburael said urgently. ‘The Thanax will feed on this. There are too many of them.’

  ‘No,’ said the Thanax leader. He bowed to Cal.

  ‘Cal, Lileem, help me make a portal!’ Geburael cried.

  Cal raised a hand. ‘Hush, Geburael.’ He addressed the Thanax. ‘What do you have to say to me?’

  ‘I am Atoz.’ The Thanax bowed again, touching his own forehead. ‘I ask that you allow us to feed on this pain.’

  ‘No!’ Geburael yelled. From the edge of his vision, Cal saw that Geburael was attempting to haul Loki into Mutandis. ‘Cal, do something. Fight them off.’

  Cal looked into the eyes of the Thanax. He glanced also at Lileem, who nodded her head once. From what he knew of this parage, Cal was inclined to trust her instincts. ‘Do you know my heart?’ he asked the Thanax.

  Atoz inclined his head. ‘Let us feed.’

  Cal got to his feet. ‘Very well.’

  ‘Bring Loki to me,’ Atoz said.

  Cal nodded and turned. Geburael screamed another ragged denial, but Cal took Loki from him. There would have been a struggle, but Lileem wrapped her strong arms around Geburael and held him back.

  Loki’s head lolled upon his neck. His reason had left him. Cal pulled Loki to his feet, looked into his unfocused eyes. ‘Whatever your biological parents, I’m the father of your being,’ he said. ‘Come back to us, Loki. Your work isn’t over.’

  Cal guided Loki’s staggering steps to where Darquiel lay. As torn as he was, so damaged, Darquiel was still beautiful.

  ‘Make Loki kneel,’ Atoz said.

  Cal pushed Loki down, but still maintained a grip on his shoulders, directing agmara energy into him, in the hope it might help. Atoz took hold of one of Loki’s hands and placed it upon the knife wounds in Darq’s chest. Loki shuddered, made an incoherent sound.

  The Thanax joined hands in a vast circle. They threw back their heads and began to sing. It was like the cry of wolves, only softer. They drew closer and closer together, their arms extended.

  Cal knew that he should back off. He guided Lileem and Geburael away from the circle, until they could no longer see Loki and Darquiel in its center.

  Geburael was weeping. He thought that the Thanax would take the life force of both Darquiel and Loki. Cal couldn’t find the will to comfort him. He wasn’t sure what the outcome of the Thanax’s interference would be, only that he felt it was right. He also felt there was something else he had to do, but his mind was too numb to work it out.

  It was Lileem who knew what to do. She turned round to face Mutandis and stared up at it for some seconds. Then, she reached out and took the hands of both Cal and Geburael. ‘Come with me,’ she said. Her fingers were slippery with Darquiel’s blood. Cal felt relief at her words; he trusted her. Together the three of them went into the tower.

  Inside, the light was like that of a radiant sunset. The stones of the tower glistened, and the light made the beads of moisture upon them look like fresh blood. Lileem led the way towards the steps that led to the summit. As they began to climb, Cal became aware of other presences drawing close. He saw them as shadowy figures that walked past him on the steps. There were so many of them. The shadows streamed through him, and each time they did, he sensed a small sphere of radiance within each one. These were hara, or rather the spiritual essence of hara.

  By the time, Cal and his companions reached the highest room, a throng was waiting there. They had taken on more substance and Cal was able to identify the astral forms of Thiede, Velaxis, Caeru, Pellaz, Galdra, Terez, Raven, Mima, Flick, Ulaume, Tava-edzen, Swift, Snake and Cobweb, and many more: all those who were part of Wraeththu destiny. They had gathered around a tall and beautifully wrought silver plinth that supported a large globe of crimson radiance in a nest of glittering wires.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Lileem murmured.

  ‘Pellaz is here,’ Geburael said, in a slurred voice.

  Cal pointed and said softly. ‘So are your parents, look.’

  And true enough, Abrimel and Ponclast were within the circle. Cal knew that the beings he saw weren’t conscious projections from the hara concerned. Rather, he supposed, they had been conjured by Divozenky from her storehouse of memories. They were representations of significant hara, not the hara themselves. You’re near, aren’t you, Cal thought, directing it at the entity that only Darquiel could properly meet. I hope you’re with Darq. I hope you want to keep him alive.

  And the briefest caress touched his mind, like a tiny curled feather floating down from an invisible bird in the high branches of a tree.

  ‘We’re part of this circle,’ Cal said to his companions. He squeezed Geburael’s hand. ‘Let’s take our place.’

  The ring of hara surrounded the pulsing radiance. Cal knew instinctively what they must do, as did everyhar else. They raised their arms in a single sweeping movement and then, with the intention to feed and empower it, plunged their hands into the center of the light. Bright gold and orange sparks flew out of it. There was a smell of ozone and a high-pitched whine filled Cal’s head. An immense alien energy coursed into his being. He was linked with every other being present and their life force augmented Ta Ke’s work and the energy Darquiel had sacrificed for it.

  Cal saw within the center of the sphere the symbol of Pyralis, which was the second level of Ulani. It was the symbol of fire and life. This symbol vibrated for a few moments and then, with an immense realm-shattering roar, a ring of red-gold radiance pulsed out from the sphere. It was strong enough to encompass the whole of Thanatep. Cal’s perception extended beyond Mutandis. He saw a myriad lights appear throughout the realm as the radiance spread outwards. A myriad towers came to life in thousands of cities.

  And as the light touched the Thanax, so night became day. The sun rose over Thanatep for the first time in thousands of years.

  Darquiel opened his eyes and saw a dark-haired har leaning over him. Was this a new life? Had he just been born again? He blinked and reached up to touch the face that gazed down on him with such tenderness. ‘You have given us life, Darquiel
har Aralis,’ said this har. ‘And we have given it to you.’

  Darquiel felt tired, but there was no pain in his body. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Atoz. I was Thanax.’

  Darquiel struggled to sit up. Loki was kneeling beside him, his hands plunged between his thighs. They stared at one another for a long minute. Then Loki’s face crumpled, like that of a small harling. ‘I want to go home,’ he said. ‘Can we go home?’

  ‘Yes,’ Darq said. He reached out and gripped one of his brother’s wrists. ‘I think we can.’

  ‘I was in your mind,’ Loki said. He shook his head. ‘I saw. Darquiel…’ He looked anguished.

  ‘Hush,’ Darq said. ‘Not now. We succeeded. We’re alive.’ He tried to get to his feet, but he was still weak and it took great effort.

  ‘Let me help you,’ Loki said and took hold of Darq’s body.

  Once Darq was standing, he leaned upon his brother, who continued to support him. They were surrounded by naked Thanax, but these were no longer spectral creatures. They looked more or less like ordinary hara, if rather gaunt. Around them, Thanatep had changed. The sky was a deep blue and within it blazed a huge sun that brought color to the world. A cloud of gauzy-winged insects swarmed overhead, dancing like butterflies, as if in mad abandon at the new dawn. In the hills, and among the towers, local creatures were chittering, whistling and croaking. A group of red lizards ran past Darq’s feet, with spined ruffs erect around their necks.

  ‘We have never seen this,’ Atoz said, making an expansive gesture with both arms. ‘Maybe that’s why we were drawn here, to wait for this event. You and the sunlight have brought us life. Or maybe we were drawn here simply to be of service to you.’

  ‘What did you do to me?’ Darq asked. ‘I was dying. I thought I was meant to die.’

  ‘You gave your life to Mutandis,’ Atoz said. ‘We fed on your pain, and took it away. You lay back in the arms of a being who has more than enough life for a simple creature like you. We simply helped her work.’