The Wraeththu Chronicles

by Storm Constantine

  "I'm glad it provided such pleasure," I said, drily.

  "Pleasure for you too in parts, you must agree," Tel-an-Kaa remarked with a smile. "The worst bit for us was when I told Ariaric about you. His face went white! For some reason, he was under the blithe misapprehension we didn't know who he really was, or what he'd done in Megalithica. Even when I explained your arrival wasn't going to provoke some wildly embarrassing revelation to us, we still had to argue with him about seeing you."

  "Yes, here's another boost for your ego," Opalexian added. "Even for the Lion your image had assumed some strangely avatistic form over the years. Maybe something he couldn't forget, or something he had intense inner fantasies about. He was afraid of facing you again, and I don't think it had anything to do with guilt either."

  "You'll swell my head," I said.

  "No, we won't. You know what you are now, Cal." I thought about it and realized, for the first time ever, I really did.

  "You must remember," Opalexian said, and now her voice was grave. "It is wrong to interfere in other people's lives, to try and change their destinies, even if it seems you are acting for the best. What must be must be. Everyone has their own path to follow and, inevitably, the times will come when their way is at extreme variance to yours. Even if you think that someone is acting utterly wrongly, think very carefully before trying to influence that situation. That is their path; they must live it. People may only learn by their own mistakes; you cannot learn for them. For that reason it was very difficult for me deciding whether or not I should take a hand in what was going on out there. Only the fact that Thiede was being deliberately wayward, and that he had such power, persuaded me. Perhaps I was still wrong, even taking that into account. But it is something I am prepared to take responsibility for. The rest is up to you, Cal. Do what you think is right, but remember what I've told you."Later, we began to make arrangements for my journey to Almagabra. Opalexian had Exalan bring out a map. Most of the journey would be by sea. Kamagrian had transport like the Maudrah, but the High Priestess was insistent that once I reached Emunah, a more conventional method of traveling should be pursued. I didn't ask why she should want that, but assumed it was something to do with arriving in Immanion at the right time. That suited me fine. There was no way I wanted to reach it any sooner. I needed time to prepare myself.

  Panthera and I returned to our room very late. My companion was silent. As we lay together in the darkness he spoke the words I knew would come. He must have thought about it for ages to say it so quickly. "Cal, I want to come with you." I didn't answer at first, so he felt he had to expand. "Not for the reason you might think; it's not selfish. I just don't want you to be alone."

  "Have you considered I might have to be?"

  "For what you have to do, whatever that is, having me along can't make that much of a difference. I want to see you safe, that's all. I couldn't live, not knowing. As soon as all this is resolved, I'll go back to Jael. I promise."

  "It's not like you to plead."

  "It's not like you to act sensibly. I want to be there."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't."

  There was further silence whilst I examined minutely the relief his suggestion had given me. It was a selfish relief, I know that. If Panthera returned home to Jael now, I could contact him immediately my future was resolved without putting him in danger or the position of suffering further pain. God knows, I should have ignored my feelings, put my foot down and told him to go home. Yet I didn't. I knew what was supposed to happen in Immanion. OK, even with Opalexian's help, there was no cut and dried guarantee that all would go to plan, but there was no way I should take Panthera along. Whatever happened, it was certain we could no longer look upon ourselves as a pair. Ariaric is right about me; I can't let go easily. My pious words to Panthera in Biting meant nothing.

  "Count yourself in then, Thea," I said.

  He laughed and curled his arms around me. "Good to see you still can't resist my charm," he said.

  Even as I held him close, even as I wanted him by me, I feared he was going to regret this move.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Aboard the Fairminia

  "The foamy-necked floater went like a bird

  Over the wave-filled sea,

  Sped by the wind."

  —Beowulf

  1 he Emunah port of Meris was a lively place, bustling with hara of many different tribes. It was here that Opalexian moored her personal vessel, a sleek, red-sailed ship with painted eyes upon her prow. It was the ship I'd seen in my Dream. The trip from Roselane had been swift, though dreary; rain, rain, rain. Not a good beginning to such a journey, I felt. By late afternoon, it was almost dark in Meris, rain lashing down on the cobbled streets, shops closing early, hara hurrying along, muffled in waterproof cloaks, faces down. Tel-an-Kaa had come along to see us off. "Sail tomorrow," she said. "The weather will be brighter then." We booked into a small, crowded inn up a curling back-street. Tel-an-Kaa was in disguise; she looked harish. One day, a ghoulish curiosity within me decided, I'd have to find out what the Kamagrian concealed beneath their clothing. Humans must have once felt the same way about us. We ate together in a small back-room in the inn. The Kamagrian kept looking at the door.

  "Nervous?" I asked.

  She shook her head. "No, I'm expecting somebody. Opalexian wants one of our people with you on this. Not me, unfortunately. He should be here soon."

  "A har, then."

  "Yes, one you know; Zackala."

  I was not exactly overjoyed. "Thanks for telling me. Why?"

  "Personal feelings mustn't get in the way of this, Cal. He may be of use to you. The image you had of him in Gimrah was somewhat distorted. Purposely. He bears you no grudge, so don't make things awkward."

  Zack didn't turn up until the morning however. Tel-an-Kaa was beginning to fret. We strolled down to the harbor after breakfast, where the sea was calm beneath clear sunlight. The air smelled fresh and full of promise. The Kamagrian wasn't sure whether she should let Panthera and I continue our journey alone. Opalexian's orders had been that Zack should come with us, but there was no Zack.

  "What should I do first when I get to Immanion?" I asked, to take her mind off the problem.

  "What? Get to Thiede, I should think. It's your finale, Cal, you decide!"

  "Should I go in furtively, or through the front door?"

  "I'd go in as if it was perfectly normal. Go to Phaonica; ask to see Thiede."

  "I'm sure his people will let me! He must be more unapproachable than Ariaric, surely, and it wasn't exactly simple getting to see him."

  "Luck was with you in Maudrah, so it will undoubtedly be with you in Immanion as well. Do you think Thiede's going to let you wander about his golden city at will? Just keep your wits about you; he'll attempt to seduce your common sense, steer you away. Remember what you've learned."

  Opalexian's ship, Fairminia, was anchored at the farthest end of the harbor. As we approached, we could see hara busy at work on her decks. One figure waved us a cocky salute. It had to be Zack. My heart sank. I'd hoped we'd miss him. Tel-an-Kaa brightened up considerably when she saw him. Panthera and I watched dubiously as she

  ran toward him, up the gangway. They embraced; he swinging her around playfully. Oh, it was the har I'd seen (thought I'd seen?) in Gimrah alright. He smiled his crooked, scarred smile at us.

  "Good to see you again, Cal," he said. "You look well. Better than you did in Gimrah, anyhow!" He laughed. "Welcome aboard; come on. Our captain wants us to be on our way, and it's a long journey."

  Yes. Just how long, I hadn't really anticipated until I realized I'd have to spend the entire time with Zack. A past thorn. It still made me uncomfortable to recall those days, whatever he felt about it.

  And so we left Jaddayoth. Slewing around, the graceful might of Fairminia cleaved her way through the waves toward the west. From the west shore of the Sea of Arel, a sea canal divides the lands of Huldah and
Florinada. This leads to the Axian Sea and the coast of Almagabra; the way we would travel. Tel-an-Kaa watched us leave. Before her figure was too small to make out, we saw her walk away, back toward the town. Panthera went to sort baggage out in our cabin, leaving me alone to stare at the receding shores of Jaddayoth. I'd enjoyed my time there, made new friends, learned one hell of a lot. I could no longer isolate myself. It was Jaddayoth that had made me realize life just wasn't going to let me do that. But perhaps the hardest lesson had been accepting I was part of something huge; no amount of hiding or running could change that. Now I must bend to obey its laws, however obscure or beyond my grasp they were. People like Opalexian and Thiede can understand them; people like me just have to accept them.

  For most of the journey, I've been catching up on my writing, as you can see. It surprised me that I'd written nothing since Ferike. This journal has been my life-saver in the past; my priest, my confessor. Perhaps I no longer need it. The har who scribbled the first sentences had no idea what he'd do or become. Will the har who enscribes the final word in Immanion be as different again? Impossible to tell. But for that reason alone I'll keep writing. It's a record of my metamorphosis. Zack and I are maintaining a polite, if distant, friendship. I get the feeling he's laughing at me sometimes and I hate the way he makes me feel inept. Perhaps it's not deliberate, but personally, I don't think he's forgiven me as much as the Kamagrian think. I can't help wondering, "What does he think of me? Why does he never mention the past?" I can't believe it's forgotten, yet perhaps it's only me that insists upon raking up the ashes of old fires. Maybe it really is no longer a cause of concern to Zack. How can I tell? We hardly speak. He gets on well with Panthera though. They've spent nearly the entire journey playing chess.

  Panthera and I avoid talking about the future. It's too vague, too vacillating to think about. He holds me tightly at night and once I awoke to find him weeping. Silently. I never let him know I saw that. Zack has strong contacts in Immanion. (The dream I'd had of him on the battlefield with Ashmael was uncannily correct, it seems). As well as Kate, Zack too has infiltrated the Gelaming for Opalexian. He's decided we should go directly to Ashmael's residence once we reach the city. I'm not sure if that's a good idea, but I'll have to trust him. He reckons that Ashmael should help me get into Phaonica. But surely, Ashmael's loyalty lies with Thiede and the Tigron? He'll have been fed the same information about me as Pell has. Zack says, "Don't worry. Don't make problems." I can only hope he's right.

  Immanion is near. It is nearly dawn, and I've been awake all night. A few minutes ago I was standing on deck, staring at the horizon. Threads of light from the rising sun picked out stars on the spires of a distant city. The jewel of the Gelaming, the Place of Light. It can sense me coming, I know. It understands what I must do to it and I can feel it trembling; half-thrill, half-fear. It is strong; made of stone and hara's will and desires. Made of souls. But it feels me and its open, glowing streets ripple. Transience; made in a moment, destroyed in a moment. Is that what it fears? Pellaz must still be in bed, perhaps writhing in the grip of nightmare. Unspecified terror. I cannot feel him yet, but he is there, encased in glass. We will soon be there. And now, I crouch in my cabin, hugging my knees, listening to Panthera murmer in his sleep. My fingers are cold. I am afraid; trembling. Have I learned enough? I never

  wanted to come here, but here I am. I turned my back on the past and found that time is a circle; I'm back there. I think I'm praying, but can only pray to myself. The Goddess and the God are within all of us; that's what they told me in Roselane. A small part or a large part? By Aghama, I hope it's enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Crown

  "/ drink him, feel him burn the lungs inside me

  With endless evil longings and despair. "

  —Baudelaire, Destruction

  Immanion shone far beyond my dreams. We docked in the morning, stepping onto a harbour of sparkling mica. It was so clean. Unbelievably, shockingly clean. The brightness made my eyes ache. Fairminia looked tawdry, bobbing alongside the tall, stately craft of the Gelaming, whose colors were white and gold, whose figureheads were of eagles, dragons, plunging horses. From the harbor, tier upon tier of glowing, white buildings reared toward the crown of the city. Here, the coruscating towers of Phaonica, the Tigron's palace, reflected the morning light, visible from any point in the city. Roads were wide, and lined with spreading trees. It was a busy place, but not hectic; alive, but not noisy. Hara moved gracefully; the pace of life was leisurely. Zack led us away from the harbor, heading toward the north of the city. We passed through an open-air market, where food-stuffs from all the Wraeththu countries were available in profusion. Farther on, we crossed an avenue where open-fronted shops displayed their wares upon the street. The effect was unobtrusive. Was this an art-display or a gift center? We saw many other outlanders as we walked northwards; traders, tourists and seafarers. There were also plenty of natives. I felt as if every tall, golden-haired Gelaming we passed could see right into my soul. This caused uncontrollable flinching on my part; probably nobody noticed me at all.

  About a mile from the harbor, Zack hailed a swooping hire-car to take us to Thandrello, the borough where Ashmael lived. We skirted Phaonica, high up. I could see figures moving in her tiled courtyards, along her terraces and cloistered walkways. Nervousness made me fearful of looking too closely, but even quick glances assured me of one thing. There was no way the Pellaz I'd once known could ever be comfortable (even convincing) living in a place like that. Why did I still nurture this image of him as he was? Common-sense alone told me not to be so stupid, but I just couldn't visualise him any other way. It was all I knew, all that had kept my love for him alive. God, this situation was a sleeping monster to end all sleeping monsters. The face of the creature was covered; I'd have to wait until it woke up to see whether it was a face I liked. And here I was, having these reckless thoughts, even as I trespassed in his city. I'd been warned, told, about his power; surely he could sense me now, close as I was to him. I felt the burn of an unseen gaze at the back of my neck and acted selfconsciously because of it. Did he watch me? Did he? Did he already know I was there?

  We reached Thandrello in half-an-hour, but Ashmael was not at home. This precipitated an ungovernable sense of relief within me, even though I knew it was only delaying the inevitable. Ashmael's house was fairly modest by Immanion standards, but spacious and comfortable. One of his house-hara offered to contact him for us, conducting us to an airy lounge, nearly filled with plants, whose northern wall, overlooking the garden, was all of glass. The furniture was low and stylised; not really the sort of place I'd have expected Ashmael to live in. From what I'd seen of him (admittedly only in dreams) he appeared to be the sort of har who would only be at home in a stable, or under canvas, or in the back-room of an exceedingly seedy inn somewhere. Zack and Panthera sat down; I paced restlessly about the room. "Calm down, Cal," Zack admonished mildly. "You'll be fit for nothing unless you do."

  Easy for him to say. I couldn't remember ever having felt so nervy. I wanted to fight. I wanted to get on with my task. I resented waiting. Affecting a cruel indifference to my inner turmoil, Panthera studiously examined the pictures on the walls. Zack picked up a book to read. I was not feeling particularly warm toward either of them. After all, they had nothing to dread, nothing to accomplish. Their minds were calm enough to look at pictures or read; mine could barely work out which way was up.

  We'd only been waiting half-an-hour or so when Ashmael arrived home. His staff must have contacted him straight away. When he walked into that room, I recognized him immediately, which felt odd because we'd never actually met before. He smiled at me and said hello—he hadn't a clue who I was—and seemed pleased to see Zack. They spent nearly an hour swapping pleasantries; Zack was clearly being very careful, gently nudging the conversation along to provide him with a cue. I'd always suspected he'd have made a good politician; very good at manipulating things is Zack. As for me, sitt
ing with my back to the window away from the others, I found it hard to keep my eyes off the star among Gelaming that is Ashmael. In my head, I kept replaying the dream (vision?) I'd had of him with Pell. I wanted to see the scar on his shoulder. He barely looked at me. Was I really there? Everything to fear had come so close so quickly. Only moments ago I'd been in Ferike surely? My thoughts tumbled over each other so swiftly, I could barely keep track of them. Conversation in the room washed over my head; I can remember none of it.

  Eventually, Zack mentioned that he'd come, as he tactfully put it, on business. "Oh? What kind of business?" Ashmael asked him lightly. He'd obviously guessed we weren't there on a purely social call.

  "If you don't mind, I'd like to discuss it with you alone first," Zack replied, not looking at me.

  Ashmael shrugged. "As you wish. I have an office in the next room. That private enough

  for you?"

  Zack nodded, and, excusing themselves to Panthera and I, they left the room.