The Wraeththu Chronicles

by Storm Constantine

  "Yes. I was surprised at his nerve. Obviously, you can't see him."

  "Ah, Swift," my hostling chided gently. "Never presume to anticipate my actions."

  He was out of the door before I realized. I called, "Cobweb, wait!" hearing his laughter ahead of me. He was already down the stairs by the time I looked over the bannister.

  They had not really confronted each other since the incident in the summe.rhouse because there had always been other hara around. Now, they were nearly alone. I was unconvinced whether I was worthy of refereeing this encounter and wondered whether I had time to look for Ithiel, but I was scared to leave them. Cal was soaking up the sunset by the long windows; his hair looked red. I heard him say, "Cobweb," very softly.

  I paused at the door. My hostling said nothing. He kept a distance between them and folded his arms, his eyes like flints.

  "Thank you for coming."

  Cobweb still said nothing but I could sense his excitement.

  "I want you to do something for me," Cal said in a careful, reasonable voice.

  Cobweb made a noise like an explosive snort. "So, the thief who stole my house requires something of me, does he!" he said, which was not quite the sort of thing I would have expected him to say. Cal turned away from him, as if he could not bear the sight of all that cold dislike.

  "Yes, the thief who stole your house requires a favor," he said. There was a silence. I held my breath. Cal sat down on the edge of a chair. "Cobweb, I'm not a fit person to bring up a child, as I'm sure you'll agree . . ."

  My hostling sighed through his nose. "Somebody thinks you're entirely fit, that's obvious!"

  "Yes," Cal agreed bitterly. "Cobweb, I want someone to care for my son, someone who'll bring him up to think in the right way. I want it to be you."

  Cobweb laughed, coldly. "Me?"

  "You've done such a good job with Swift," Cal pointed out, somewhat ironically.

  "You're mad! Can you really trust me with such a precious thing?"

  "Yes," Cal replied simply. "There is no reason for you to hate the harling; he has never harmed you."

  "But he's half yours!"

  "Half Terzian's . . ."

  "Half yours! I hate you!"

  "I know, but I still want you to do this."

  "You're the most impossible, insane thing I've ever met!" Cobweb raved, momentarily over the top in his indignation. "You want the child; you look after it! You took Terzian away from me to achieve it! I don't even want to see the creature! I can't believe your nerve!" He turned grandly, in a swirl of braids and ribbons, and stalked toward the door.

  "Cobweb," Cal called softly. My hostling stopped. His head was up and I could see his fists clenched at his sides. "Why did you come?"

  My hostling did not turn for a moment. "Curiosity," he said at last.

  "You liar," Cal said, smiling, and my hostling's face twitched. He made a growling noise and stormed out, toward the stairs. "Don't you know everything, Cobweb?" Cal called after him.

  This was the time I learned that it is possible to argue about one thing while really meaning something completely different. Words are flexible, Tone speaks more eloquently than words. Another move in the game.

  I went to see the child and he was beautiful as expected. Cal took him in his arms, which I must admit looked unnatural. "Who could wish for better?" he asked, wondering.

  "Yet you do not want to care for him," I remarked. Cal handed the harling to me, and he squirmed in my hold, sensing my nervousness. What disquieted me most was, despite his lovely face and small, perfect limbs, cherub-pale, his sentience was still only half formed, and his eyes were filled only by a kind of animal intelligence. "What shall you call him?" I asked.

  "Perhaps I ought to wait for Terzian to come home before I decide."

  We looked at each other, but neither of us could face saying the obvious. Eventually, I thought of, "Oh, but that could be ages yet. What are you going to call him till then?"

  "I haven't thought."

  "Do you really want Cobweb to look after him?"

  "I want my son to be like you," Cal said and touched my face. The harling reached for his hand.

  Before I went down to dinner that evening, a little later than usual, Cobweb came into my room. "Tell him yes," he said shortly. I had to turn away so that he could not see me smiling.

  "You're an enigma," I said.

  "I'm not sure if that's the word I'd use," Cobweb replied acidly. "I know you're laughing at me, son of my flesh, my faithful one."

  "I'm sorry, it's just . . ."

  "I always wanted another child," Cobweb said, uninterested in my remark, "but it was never .. . right, never possible. I agree with Cal in that I can't stand by and watch an innocent being indoctrinated by his sicknesses and cruelties. The harling is your brother, part of this house, another Varrish heir. I know I'm capable of rising above personal feelings. I was trained once, not all of it has deserted me . . ." He turned his lambent eyes on me. There was more, both of us knew that, but it remained unspoken. At dinner Cal said, "I'm sure Cobweb will feel happier now, and without guilt too. Quite an achievement on my part, I think."

  I was appalled. "You're an absolute beast," I said.

  "No, I'm not."

  "You can't repair what you've done!"

  "I don't want to. ... More wine?"

  "You knew Cobweb would accept, didn't you?"

  "I wasn't sure, but I thought it was worth a try."

  "I can see through you," I said uncertainly.

  "Oh, can you? Do you understand my motives?"

  "Implicitly!" I replied, but he didn't believe me. Cobweb decided that the harling should be named Tyson, and baptized him into our tribe, although Swithe commented that this was a worthless practice. As soon as the child was delivered into Cobweb's care, Cal appeared to lose interest in him. Occasionally, pricked more by my reminders than conscience, he would come into the nursery that had seen generations of human children grow up and the first harish childhood, mine, and half-heartedly perform acts of what he supposed was affection. Tyson always looked wary and confused. In just a few weeks, he had learned to wobble around, careering off furniture, and say "Obbeb" and "Wift," which was how he addressed my hostling and myself. It was true that he helped to seal up the scars left in our household by recent traumas (even my nightmares began decreasing in frequency), for he possessed an inner glow of happiness that could not be affected by moods on either Cal's or Cobweb's part, but could only encourage to dispel them. I could see that Cobweb unashamedly adored him from the start, perhaps convincing himself that it was indeed his own child. In the afternoons, I would lift Ty out of his bed and wake him up and breathe in his wonderful, clean smell. Now his brown eyes were beginning to fill up with an eerie, knowing wisdom. I would hold him and hug him and he would nestle against me and whisper childish nonsense into my ear. It made me want to have sons of my own. Children are miracles, the living proof of the infinite. I had been told by Cobweb that only a special, vitally intense kind of aruna can bring about conception. "There has to be an utter mingling of souls for it to happen," he said, and then added drily, "Terzian has never found that easy."

  One day, a messenger rode into Galhea and some hours later the news he bore reached us at the house. The Varrs were returning home. Cobweb went pale when Ithiel told us. I caught a glimpse of the visions of terrifying injuries and death that flickered across his mind's eye. But Ithiel could soothe his fears.

  It would seem that the Gelaming were trickier than we thought. The Varrs could not even reach them. This demanded more explanation and Ithiel told us that there had been strange and potent spells cast upon the country. Places once recognizable had become territories of uncharted weirdness and the army had been traveling in circles. Their supplies and morale had dwindled. There had been one or two minor skirmishes with hands of marauding humans seeking to steal guns and food, and others with hara of hostile tribes, but these had just been irritations helping to cast a veil over the wh
ereabouts of the enemy. Eventually, sensing the rising hysteria and depression among his hara, Terzian had ordered the retreat home. Ponclast would be summoned; there would have to be further debate. The Varrs had not been expecting this.

  "The Gelaming do not want to fight," Bryony said. "It is because they know the Varrs would have no chance. Now, do you see, Swift?"

  "We won't know what really went on until Terzian gets here," I said testily.

  They returned in the mid-afternoon of a warm, glorious day. Terzian did not come up to the house for some time. I sat with Ty on the lawn and told him about his father. He would not listen, only chuckled and reached for my hair with handfuls of torn daises.

  Everyone in Galhea was relieved that the army had returned alive, and there was great celebration that night. Terzian looked tired, but he managed to smile and take his new son in his arms. Tyson was frightened by all the noise and strange faces, and fretted until Cobweb came to take him away. Terzian looked after them speculatively. Leef came to find me and he looked thinner and exhausted. I suggested we go for a walk in the gardens. I was eager to question him, but waited for him to offer the information himself.

  "I feel as if I've got someone to come back here to now," he said as we walked along.

  "I did think about you sometimes," I said, which was not untrue, but there had been no sentiment involved.

  "The whole thing, all that distance; it was a waste of time," he said bitterly.

  "We heard something like that," I replied cautiously.

  We had come to the lake. It looked eerie, with insects chirruping and the water shifting lazily in the darkness. I put my hand on Leef's arm, feeling his sadness.

  "I really wanted to fight," he said. "I needed to. We all just wanted to do something. At night I could feel them watching us, but they never 1 showed themselves. Terzian was furious."

  "I can imagine," I said tartly.

  "Everything got worse and worse. We crossed the great marsh Astigi but could get no further. Some of us became ill and there was the constant harassment of attacks by men and hara of small tribes. Things were always being stolen. It was so strange. Took a few days for us to realize what was happening. I began to recognize a tree we would pass every day, late in the afternoon. At first I thought I was mistaken, but no, we really were traveling in circles. The scouts' compass needles spun as if in a wind. Soon after that, Terzian gave the order to turn back. Every one of us was relieved ..." He sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair, smiled weakly. "You've grown again, Swift."

  I had been standing uncomfortably silent. Now I shrugged. "Well, I have no control over it."

  "Out here, in this weird place, you look just like Cobweb." He laughed. "You see, I'm becoming used to magic!"

  I wondered how long it would take him to get round to touching me. Leef was so hesitant, as if Terzian was always standing behind us, watching.

  "I wasn't much fun at Festival, was I?" I joked.

  "No, you weren't, but I know why now. It must have been very . . . stressful."

  "Not compared with real things, what goes on out there." I waved my arm vaguely at the trees.

  "Perhaps not, but troubles are always relative, aren't they?"

  I sat down, on the spongy moss that is always a little damp. Leef hovered at my side. "Sit down," I ordered.

  "What's wrong with you?"

  He sat. "You know, don't you? At this moment, I want to pour torrents of my breath into you, but I have to be careful."

  "Not Terzian again!"

  "It's easy for you to scoff; you don't know him in the same way that I do."

  "You must have at least shared breath with a hundred hara. Am I so different?"

  He sighed. "He may already have chosen for you."

  I shuddered. That was quite, quite possible. Terzian would probably not think of consulting me. I stood up. "We'd better get back," I said.

  I walked to my favorite yew tree. Once it had seemed such a long way to the nearest branch. Now I could reach it easily. Hanging upside down by my knees, I could see Leef smiling at me.

  "Get down," he said.

  "I feel like climbing to the top."

  "Get down, now!"

  He hauled me out of the branches and we ended up rolling in the springy, sharp leaves around the base of the tree. I wanted to taste him because it had only happened to me once before and that had been Cal. I needed to compare that time with someone else. Leef's breath was all dark, heating wings and feathery darkness. It reached right into me. I broke away and said, "Tell me how I taste."

  "Of gold," he said huskily and sought my mouth once more, melding into me. My body felt strange. It almost hurt. It was the beginnings of desire and I was unfamiliar with it.

  "You are near your time," Leef whispered, touching my face and neck all over with his lips.

  "What will it be like?" I asked.

  "Like heaven," he replied.

  Terzian was worried and it was impossible not to be affected by it. Ponclast had been summoned and representatives from the Kakkahaar were expected any day. I kept trying to look at the situation objectively, to face the seriousness that might be hovering, waiting to surprise us with drastic change and discomfort at any time, but all that seemed real to me was a strange, half-waking, dreamy state where all that mattered was my own body, newly graceful, newly aware. My books were sadly neglected.

  "Well, you've certainly changed your tune recently," Swithe observed caustically, but I could see that his eyes were smiling.

  The Kakkahaar, whose names were Aihah and Shune, brought us gifts from the south. Exotic, spicy sweets, aromatic with honey and bitter, pungent nuts; glass beads that changed color in the light and dried herbs with arcane and special properties for Cobweb. I was intrigued by their strangeness, more aware of their presence than I had been before, when other Kakkahaar had visited us. They weaved and braided their thigh-length hair in convoluted styles and their eyelids were tattooed on the inside so that they never had to wear kohl. Of course, our lack of occult development must have been held in utter contempt by these adept practitioners of magic but it was never shown. They were always gratingly polite. Aihah obliged me with special attention and from him I learned that they were still in communication with their tribe in the desert. I realized it must involve a similar practice to the one Cobweb and I used occasionally, when our minds could touch, but how much stronger the Kakkahaars' ability must be to be able to cover so many miles. Aihah corrected me about this. "Distance has nothing to do with it," he said. "We communicate laterally, not head on. Do you understand?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "It is something like visualization. A calling, and something more." He smiled at me. "One day, it might be possible for you to come south and learn with us. There is much we could teach you."

  I had no doubt of that and thanked him warmly, but I couldn't imagine it ever happening.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Seasonal Affliction

  Tears of belated remorse

  Swung from lashes

  Worshiping manifestations within sexual glands, To catapult assassins of beauty into

  erogenous zones.

  I had always believed that the majority of harlings came of age in the spring, with the rising of the sap and the burst of new life. Perversely, I began to feel my Feybraiha approaching with the advent of the autumn. Since my father's return and my brief encounter with Leef in the garden, I had started to be aware of my body more than before, but that had been sort of exciting and secret, like hugging myself in private.

  Gradually, my advancing maturity began to get uncomfortable. Cobweb noticed it before anyone else; I had said nothing, half hoping it would all go away and I could resume my life peacefully. Blossoming sexuality raged within me like a fast-growing, strangling vine. I had no control over it. My moods swung like a great and sickening pendulum. One moment I was happy to the point of lunatic hysteria, the next plunged into a depression so black, only the thought of death could
comfort me. As Swithe had once predicted, unexpected growths of hair seemed to burst from my skin overnight, beneath my arms, between my legs, and in those places the skin was hot and sore. I remembered what Gahrazel had gone through the year before and wondered whether I should talk to him about it, but ever since he had come back from the south, he had been like a stranger to me, no longer the elfin beauty with whom I had shared secrets and childish dreams, but a tall, tanned intruder that looked vaguely like a Gahrazel I had once known. He looked at me with different eyes now and appeared to shun coming into the house.

  Cobweb made an ointment for my skin, using some of the herbs that the Kakkahaar had brought. Aihah expressed polite interest in my coming of age and taught me some relaxation exercises to try when I felt too manic. I think Cobweb would have liked the Kakkahaar to have given me some Instruction concerning aruna and its practices, but my father was against it. I never knew for sure whether Cobweb had suggested it, but sensitive as I was at that time, I guessed some of what went on behind my back. As it was, Swithe and Moswell were entrusted with my education, as usual. Cobweb knew that the Kakkahaar could have taught me much more than either of my tutors could ever know.