storm

by Unknown

  Moon could see the sense in this idea. His imaginings of what aruna would be like with Tyson made him appreciate how love, or intention, could contribute towards creating a special creature. It could be a physical expression of this intention, a magical working, a spell.

  The walls to Fulminir were now only piles of rubble covered by creeping blankets of ivy. They looked, in fact, like a ring of small hills around the citadel and its outbuildings. But within them, wooden palisades had been constructed, presumably in haste. Smoke purled from chimneys into the afternoon sky. From a distance, the sound of stone striking iron could be heard, just a single insistent beat, like a blacksmith. Hara were at work in fields around the citadel, and it appeared like any other Wraeththu settlement. Cattle grazed in a meadow of clover, their tails switching lazily.

  “They do not appear to be on high alert against attack,” Tyson said. “Do we know for sure that Ponclast has reclaimed Fulminir? Couldn't these just be ordinary hara who've moved in and made use of the old buildings?”

  “How I wish that were true,” Cal said dryly. “Our approach has been noted. Guard your thoughts and your tongue.”

  Moon felt it as a tickle to the skin. If was as if an invisible wave of energy moved slowly over him from head to toe. He caught a quick message from Cal: “Guard yourself!” And he did.

  The hara that came to them were thin, sinewy creatures. Moon could see at once their history in their eyes. A har looked him over and Moon knew that he'd never basked in the sunlight sure of his own beauty, nor swapped glances in candlelight across a civilised dining table. He had surely killed with his bare hands.

  “We are here to see Ponclast,” Cal said in a clear, even voice. “I am an old friend of his.”

  The hara said nothing to this. The feeling they gave off, like sweat from their skin, was a cocky kind of confidence, but also extreme caution. They were dangerous because of it.

  There were no formal invitations or gestures of respect. They indicated that Cal and his companions must follow him, that was all.

  Was I like them once? Moon wondered, and found pictures of his childhood coming back to him. He thought of Hawk, sitting in the parking lot that day, when he'd told Moon about Snake and Silken. It could have been a lifetime ago.

  It would take a hard har indeed not to be affected by the sights within the wooden barricade around Fulminir. So much effort had already gone into recreating a settlement, and seeing those hara going about their daily business, hammering nails into wood, clearing out debris, did not give a message of aggression or cruelty. It spoke of desperate individuals simply trying to survive, to create comforts, a home. At one time, this place had been attacked as Galhea had been. Moon could not find it within himself to be scornful or even suspicious. But then, he had seen nothing. He'd not even been born when Fulminir's dark secrets had been uncovered. He remembered the last night in Galhea and framed it deep within his mind. That was why he was here. There were captives in this place.

  They were taken to a har named Kyrotates, who held a high position in Ponclast's forces. He said to Cal, “You were in Galhea recently.”

  Cal nodded. “Yes. I went to see how the land lay.”

  “We had reports,” Kyrotates said. “Some of our hara knew of you. I want you to tell me now why I shouldn't believe you have come here as a spy.”

  “You can believe what you like, tiahaar. I am here to speak with Ponclast, not you. I expect that is what I'm supposed to say.”

  Kyrotates did not smile, even though it was clear Cal was trying to lighten the atmosphere.

  “This is where you say, 'Who do you think you are?' and strike me?” Cal offered.

  Kyrotates exhaled through his nose. “We know who are you, tiahaar. You are a Tigron of Immanion.”

  “And a Tigron would saunter into Fulminir without fear?” Cal said.

  “If they did, they would either be a fool or think themselves very clever, which amounts to the same thing. Nohar believes you to be stupid. Why are you here, Calanthe?”

  “If Ponclast would speak with me, he would see I am sincere. I am no longer at the side of Pellaz-har-Aralis. I fled Immanion some time ago. Ponclast must know this. Many hara in Almagabra believe I am responsible for the attack on the Tigrina. For that, Ponclast owes me.”

  Kyrotates laughed coldly at that.

  “At the very least, he must be curious,” Cal said. “I have brought my son with me, who is also Terzian's son.” He turned to Moon. “And this is Moon Jaguar, from the City of Ghosts: a young Uigenna, born to a brother of Tigron Pellaz.”

  Kyrotates remained stony.

  Cal sighed. “You know, tiahaar, that I was taken captive by the Gelaming while on a mission to find Terzian. You have no idea of what I was put through, as I have no real idea of the torments you must have suffered. The fact is that we are all victims of the Gelaming, in one way or another. This is what binds us.”

  “The Gelaming took you in, make you Tigron. That is hardly suffering.”

  Now it was Cal's turn to utter a cold laugh. “You think so? Please ask Ponclast to speak with me. You are right, I am not stupid, and I would not insult Ponclast's intelligence by coming here as a spy.”

  Listening to this conversation, Moon could not help feeling that Cal, in some way, was telling the truth. That, or he was the most expert liar Moon had ever come across. He felt uneasy. Why were they really here?

  “We have travelled from Galhea,” Cal said. “Allow us to rest and then show us how we can help you here. We are willing to work.”

  “You will be kept in confinement until Ponclast has decided your fate,” Kyrotates said. He jerked his head towards two hara who stood guard at the door. “Take them to a secure room.”

  Cal bowed to Kyrotates. “We will co-operate fully,” he said.

  Kyrotates said nothing. He turned away.

  Ponclast was indeed intensely curious about the arrival of Calanthe har Aralis. He did not trust Cal for one minute, but he also had Cal's measure. Ponclast believed that Cal was the most self-serving har he had ever met. If he was here in Fulminir, he wanted something. Still, it would not give the right message to display eagerness. Ponclast decided he would interview Cal after dinner that night. He had yet to decide what manner he would adopt for the meeting.

  Abrimel came to Fulminir early in the morning, and Ponclast told him about Cal's arrival.

  “Kill him is my advice,” Abrimel said. “He will bring trouble. He always has.”

  “He was Terzian's consort,” Ponclast said mildly. “Terzian loved him deeply. I am also curious to meet Terzian's son.”

  “Terzian is dead,” Abrimel said harshly. “Calanthe is a manipulator. Only the Aghama knows why he left Immanion, but I find it extremely suspicious him turning up here. Also, it was no secret he was in Galhea when our forces attacked it. He was fighting by the Parsics' side. He was seen. Now he is here. The message is plain. Kill him.”

  “A relative of yours is with him. Moon, the Uigenna's son.”

  Abrimel visibly paled. “I have no wish to see him.”

  “That is a shame. You are hura-brothers. I have had reports from the north. It's no secret that the Gelaming coerced Snake Jaguar to go to Almagabra with them. There is talk of threats having been involved. There is also talk that Tyson Parasiel was with the party who met with Jaguar in the City of Ghosts. All these facts spin in my head. I am intrigued.” His voice took on a harder tone. “Calanthe is here now, and will be kept secure. He will learn nothing of our plans. He might be here to glean intelligence for Immanion, but somehow I doubt it. He has his own agenda, always.”

  “Test him,” Abrimel said.

  Ponclast cocked his head to one side. “In what way?”

  “Tell him about Galdra har Freyhella and how the Hegemony has him lined up as Cal's replacement. I doubt he knows about that. If there is any loyalty to my father within him, this might manifest at the news. You would be able to smell it, I am sure.”

  “Perhaps you
had better tell me about it,” Ponclast said. “In detail.”

  Ponclast had done much to improve his quarters since he'd taken repossession of Fulminir. Most of their appointments had been stolen from Imbrilim by Diablo. Ponclast now had a comfortable office that overlooked the main courtyard. It was situated halfway up a tower whose summit was missing. Here, Ponclast composed himself to receive his new guest. He felt slightly light-headed, not exactly nervous but aware the coming interview must be conducted with care to get the best results. Cal had survived much. He was a supreme example of what Wraeththu could be, but he was unpredictable and unreadable. Ponclast could not fully believe Cal had walked away willingly from Pellaz har Aralis, but neither did he think Cal was here on the Tigron's behalf. He believed it would take wits and cunning to discover the true reason.

  When Ponclast's hara delivered Cal to his door, Cal stood at the threshold, bowed respectfully and touched his brow. “In meetings hearts beat closer,” he said, an old Uigenna greeting.

  Ponclast would not reply in kind. “Come in, sit down.”

  Cal did so, choosing a chair opposite Ponclast's own. Ponclast made a discreet gesture and Diablo appeared from the shadows. He poured wine into two stone goblets and handed them out. Ponclast intended only to take the barest sip of his own cup. He dismissed Diablo from the room.

  “So,” Ponclast said, once he and Cal were alone. “What are you going to say to me?”

  Cal took a small taste of the wine, then put the goblet down on Ponclast's desk. “What do you want to hear?”

  “You were fighting for the Parsics mere weeks ago. I presume you have some measure of attachment to the house of Parasiel, despite their betrayal of Terzian's blood.”

  “The Parsics are a conquered tribe,” Cal said. “But if you attack them, they will defend themselves. What did you expect?”

  Ponclast sighed theatrically. “I am not prepared to debate their politics. In my view, they are traitors, or at least are led by them. Swift gave our hara to the Gelaming.”

  “Swift cares only for his hara. He does what he can to protect them and rule them fairly. He is the buffer between them and Immanion. You should not judge him so harshly.”

  “You think not? You were not here on the day Fulminir fell, tiahaar. I had my fill of Swift the Betrayer at that time. He was Thiede's creature. He went against his own blood.”

  “He was very young,” Cal said. “Anyway, I am not here to discuss Swift. He has made his choices and sticks by them.”

  “Then what are you here for?”

  “I am interested in seeing whether you can convince me that you are as good a force for Wraeththu as the Gelaming.”

  Ponclast laughed. “Your arrogance is stunning! Why should I care what you think?”

  “Because I could be of use to you.”

  “You are only ever of use to yourself, Cal. I have more acuity than Pellaz in that matter. He has never realised this simple fact.”

  “Strangely enough, I do care for the Uigenna, or what is left of them. Believe that or not, it is of no consequence. You have acquired strong allies. It is impressive.”

  “Abandon that thread of conversation, tiahaar. You will learn nothing of them from me.” Ponclast paused, took another sip of wine. “Put yourself in my place, Cal. I cannot release you into our community. I cannot envisage you fighting at our side. Your offer of alliance may be genuine, or as genuine as you are capable of making it, but I will not take tat risk. Not unless you have something interesting to offer me.”

  Cal laughed, leaned back in his chair. “Okay, I appreciate that.” He hesitated. “Do you ever wonder what your allies want of you?”

  Ponclast said nothing, prepared to let Cal continue.

  “You are nothing to them, tiahaar, as the Gelaming are nothing to those who support them. We are all part of a greater conflict. This realm is pivotal, its energies are a resource, but that is that. Humanity endangered that resource. Wraeththu are better guardians. But we are expendable. It is my thought that, instead of being ignorant slaves, fulfilling supply through forced labour, without even knowing we are doing so, we should take command of our resources and trade instead. I would be interested to hear your opinion.”

  Ponclast had expected nothing like that. He took another drink to cover his surprise, give him time to compose a response. Eventually he said, “And how do you propose we take that control?”

  Cal shrugged. “How should I know? I think it's important only that I give you this information. Act on it as you will.”

  Ponclast smiled coldly. “Ah, I see. You attempt to sow discord between me and my allies.”

  “Not exactly. Have you ever asked them why they're offering you aid? You don't need to answer me aloud. All I ask is that you consider my words. I think it's useful for you to know your place in the scheme of things.”

  “And how do you know that? I don't believe you know more about these allies than I do, and I know more than enough to satisfy me.”

  “When I left Immanion, I made it my purpose to seek out knowledge. I have seen many things during my life, tiahaar. I have always known there is more to the game than we know. Thiede did not build Immanion by himself. That is common knowledge, even if nohar knows who helped him. He was cleverer than most. He worked out that Wraeththu weren't an accident, and he went looking. That's all I can say.”

  “Not enough,” Ponclast said.

  “Why do they need us?” Cal said. “Think about that also. How much influence can they have in this realm if they need hara to do their fighting for them? It is my belief they find it difficult to manifest, at least in their own forms, for any length of time. Also, it's possible to remove them from our reality, if only temporarily.” Now Cal leaned forward, and gestured emphatically. “Thiede did not build the walls around Gebaddon. He did not possess that power. It was otherwordly, which was why its destruction had such an effect on the otherlanes. Those who call themselves your allies are after a piece of what the Gelaming's benefactors, or masters, consider their own.”

  Ponclast felt breathless; he could tell Cal spoke what he believed was truth. He swallowed. “Why come to me? Have you given Pellaz this information?”

  Cal leaned back again. “No.”

  “Why not? Surely your loyalties lie with him before me?”

  “I am not loyal to you. You should know where you stand, and why, before you take on a war with the Gelaming. You can be sure their allies are as fearsome as yours, and casualties on either side will mean little to them.”

  Ponclast laughed aloud. “By all that's sacred! You're not here as a peace monger, are you? That is a rich, sweet thought! Will you go to Pellaz next?”

  Cal did not share Ponclast's amusement. “At the end, Ponclast, it will be between you and him. I promise you that. There is more than one war. While higher powers jostle for resources, hara of flesh and blood fight for the hearts of all Wraeththu. Somehar must win. Then our future will be set.”

  “I am equal to Pellaz har Aralis.”

  “In some ways,” Cal said. “I can see that. But what I learned when I first went to Immanion is that true strength comes from opposing forces being in balance, not from the scales tipping too far one way.”

  “Your fanciful dream will never happen,” Ponclast said. “The Gelaming would not have it, and neither would I. There is no common ground between us.”

  Cal appeared weary now. “As you will. I've done what I set out to do: tell you what I know. You should know that the Gelaming's allies have intimated some of the truth to me. Your own have not afforded you that privilege.”

  “You are in contact with them?”

  “No. It was made known to me by them, that's all.”

  Ponclast narrowed his eyes. All that Cal had said made sense to him; his own instrints advised him Cal's words were rooted in truth. But he also sensed this was not the whole story. He drew in his breath. “Do I take it the reason you have not gone to Pellaz with this information is because of the Freyh
ellan?”

  Cal's face assumed a bland expression. “No, that is not the reason.”

  Ponclast gestured airily with one hand. “Strange. I would have thought it would have annoyed you, the Hegemony organizing for somehar to take your place.”

  “They cannot do that.”

  “They can make a new Tigron, Cal. You know that.”

  “It will mean nothing. I have no interest in the Hegemony's schemes. They lack subtlety.”

  “I've been told he resembles you, this Galdra har Freyhella. He derives from an interesting tribe. I considered disabling them, as it was intimated to me they would prove useful to my enemies. Interestingly, something beat me to it.”