‘Pell,’ Ulaume said, but he could no longer move. An invisible wall had sprung up before him, and what lay beyond it was now dimming out of existence. ‘What do you want of me?’ Ulaume yelled. ‘I am here. Tell me.’

  There was no reply, yet he could hear the sound of hooves upon the road behind him. Was an older version of Pell approaching, one who would speak to him? Ulaume turned. He caught a brief glimpse of a horse, a rider, a feral grin, and then the apparition passed right through him. A black wave of terrifying emotion pulled at his flesh, his mind. He was in hell.

  Then he was awake and panting in the dark attic room of the big house, his breath steaming on the air. Lileem slept soundly, curled against his side.

  And there was a face above him: its long black hair hung down right onto Ulaume’s chest. Eyes wide, whites showing all around. Mad and vacant. Ulaume held his breath, afraid that the slightest movement would dispel the dream image. ‘Hubisag,’ he whispered beneath this breath, ‘let the ghost speak that is the essence of knowledge, knowledge brings wisdom, wisdom brings courage. Hubisag, let all be known that I should know.’

  The face above him turned to the side quizzically. He saw a flash of white teeth and then it was gone. There was a sound like a rat scampering down the stairs, swift and light. Ulaume leapt from the nest of blankets, casting aside Lileem, who whimpered and rubbed at his face. Ulaume made a quick signal for silence and sped towards the door. Someone had been here. A real person of flesh and blood. His flesh tingled as he ran down the stairs, his feet barely touching the steps. It was as if he followed a column of smoke. There was only a faint sense of presence left behind.

  Chapter Seven

  If somehar had told Seel that Flick might walk out on him and that if he did Seel would feel as if a part of his life had been cut away, he wouldn’t have believed it, which just goes to show how a har who believes himself to be self-aware can be so wrong.

  After Flick left the office on that last morning, Seel sat staring into space, unable to take in the fact that Flick had somehow found the courage and independence to leave Saltrock. Like many strong partners in relationships, he’d taken Flick for granted, and it’s only when the other partner walks out that the dominant half suddenly finds themselves bereft, hopeless and grief-stricken. It struck home most of all when Seel felt hungry. He’d sat in the office all day, doing nothing but chain-smoking. At sundown, his stomach complained and he went to the kitchen. He’d have to cook for himself and he didn’t know where half the things were kept. For dinner, he had bread and some dry strips of meat Flick had been keeping in the larder to give to Orien’s orphan cats. As he ate, he read the letter that Flick had left for him, propped up against the saltcellar. It was full of rambling explanations that made little sense, but for the part that Flick had decided to seek out Pell’s family. What idiocy? Why was he doing this? It would achieve nothing, and might well be fatally dangerous. ‘You little fool,’ Seel said to the empty room. ‘This is what he wanted. Cal has won.’

  Seel couldn’t face going out or telling anyhar that Flick had left him. He felt ashamed, as if he’d done something really bad. And he knew exactly what that was. His own harsh and indifferent words to Flick echoed round his head in an endless cruel mantra. Why had he taken out all his fear and bitterness on the one har who’d been there for him for the past few years? Why had he been so stupid? He had been careless. Cal had used this opportunity to worm his way into the hole in Flick and Seel’s relationship and sever the final ties. Seel also found it impossible to dispel the nagging doubt that Flick had known rather more about Orien’s death than he’d said. He didn’t think Flick had done anything wrong, but just that he’d covered up for Cal rather more than he’d needed to. He believed, deep in his heart, that Cal had told Flick something that terrible night. And Cal had pressed Flick to silence, perhaps for no other reason than to widen the yawning chasm between Flick and Seel.

  Will we ever be free of him? Seel thought. How long will the spiteful reverberations of his hate linger?

  For two days, Seel kept to the house, other than when he crept out to the stables to feed the animals. Sometimes, he considered saddling up his horse and riding off to find Flick, but he knew Flick would not want that. The letter was too final. He had turned his back on all that knew. He and Seel had never been chesna: ultimately, there had been little for Flick to walk away from and only an emptiness to bring him back to.

  Seel ignored the heavy pounding on the door when Colt came to the house. Colt shouted through the door. ‘Are you all right, Seel?’

  No, I most certainly am not, Seel thought, but hid in the kitchen anyway. He knew that very soon Colt would come back with others and break into the house, perhaps afraid that Seel was ill, dead or had gone mad. When Colt stomped away, Seel went out to the stables. This was his town: he couldn’t abandon or neglect it. He would have to face his friends and tell them the truth.

  After allowing himself the luxury of cursing aloud the day that Pell and Cal had first come to Saltrock, Seel went back into the house, where he washed himself and changed his clothes. As he’d anticipated, Colt came back a couple of hours later, no doubt after protracted discussion. He had four other hara with him, who Seel could see from the bedroom window. Stringer was not with them, and Seel knew this was because Stringer was aware he needed time alone, for the blood to congeal, for the initial healing to take place. By this time, Flick’s absence would have been noticed and few hara would have drawn the wrong conclusions.

  Seel uttered a single long sigh, then went down to open the door before Colt could damage it. He reflected that Colt had changed very little since he’d been incepted. He was still very much the macho type, in his own spiritual warrior way, and Seel had to admit that sometimes there was comfort in that. When Colt was around, hara felt safe.

  ‘I’m not dead, in case you were worrying,’ Seel said, as Colt came up the wooden steps to the porch.

  Colt said nothing, waiting.

  Seel folded his arms and leaned against one of the porch posts. ‘Flick’s gone,’ he said. ‘Walked out on me two days ago.’

  Colt dropped his gaze from Seel’s, rubbed his chin, then said, ‘We thought so. I’ll find somehar to help you – you know, help with the house.’

  ‘OK,’ Seel said. ‘I’m helpless. I need feeding.’ The words were light, but his heart felt like damp clay. Stringer would be easier to talk to about this.

  ‘The dust will settle,’ Colt said in a determined tone. ‘This is the last of it, Seel. We can carry on.’

  ‘I know,’ Seel said, ‘but you still have Stringer.’

  Colt looked embarrassed. ‘Come over to our place,’ he said. ‘Eat with us.’

  As Seel walked away, surrounded by those whose best interests lay in him remaining sane and functional, he looked back. Perhaps I need a new house, he thought. That one will be haunted now, by more than one ghost.

  The sky was dark above the roof and glistening with stars. It seemed to shimmer as if it were just a veil hiding another reality. As Seel stared up, a strange feeling stole through him. Something was wrong. Something felt out of place. Slowly, the velvet night became milky and shot with arrows of white light. Seel blinked and realised it wasn’t an effect of the tears in his eyes and caught hold of Colt’s arm. ‘What the hell is that?’

  The sky was fracturing.

  Before Colt could offer a reply, there was a deafening crack like thunder and the night shattered. Something burst out of it like a gigantic comet. At first, all Seel could see was a boiling cloud, his body gripped by a paralysing sense of wrongness. He knew he was seeing something that didn’t naturally belong to this world.

  They came in slow motion at first, pouring down from the hole in the night: white horses, nostrils flaring, manes flying with shards of frost. As they hit the ground in front of Seel’s yard, they threw up a spray of dust and sparks, and then somehow galloped into real time, fast and shrieking. They careered up the street, bringing with them a
vapour of frozen air and a smell of ozone. Blue lightning crackled between them and ice crystals flew from their steaming flanks. Their riders were wrapped in silver grey hooded cloaks that swirled like foggy air.

  ‘What the hell…?’ Seel realised he had grabbed hold of Colt in terror and now pulled away from him. This wasn’t a vision: it was real. The ground was shaking.

  There were five horses and the leader of the troupe brought his mount to a prancing halt a few feet in front of Seel. He threw back his hood and gazed down imperiously. A mane of red hair fell forward over his shoulders and he shook it, making it writhe like fabric under water. A terrifying and beautiful vision, nightmare made flesh.

  ‘Thiede,’ Seel said. He should have known. Who else would make such a grand entrance? Seel knew he had to catch his breath, gather his senses, no matter what outlandish illusion he’d just witnessed. He would need his wits about him if Thiede were here. ‘You are too late,’ he said, surprised and pleased at the steady tone of his voice.

  ‘Good evening, Seel,’ Thiede said and dismounted. ‘Fortunate to catch you here so quickly.’

  The other riders remained motionless in their saddles, their faces still covered. Seel wondered who, or what, they were, and whether Thiede would elect to tell him. Now, Thiede towered over him, alien and discomforting. Had he ever been human? No, of course not. Thiede was a creature of magic that could fly through the air on an enchanted horse. He couldn’t possibly be real, but he was.

  ‘Orien is dead,’ Seel said, ‘but I suppose you know that.’

  Thiede nodded once. ‘Yes.’

  ‘He called for you, many times.’

  ‘I could not prevent what happened,’ Thiede said. ‘Nor could I accept Orien’s messages. I was engaged in business that prevented communication.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Seel said. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I had to come,’ Thiede said. ‘Orien was my oldest friend.’

  ‘You’ve come to see the grave, then? There isn’t one. We burned him.’

  ‘I have come to see you,’ Thiede said. ‘There is much to discuss.’

  ‘Like the truth about Pellaz Cevarro?’

  ‘Yes, among other things.’

  Seel turned to Colt. ‘May this meeting take place at your house?’ He glanced back at Thiede. ‘My home is no longer fit for guests.’

  ‘I hope that will not matter in the long run,’ Thiede said.

  Seel frowned at him in perplexity.

  ‘Sure,’ Colt said. ‘What about them?’ He gestured at the silent riders. ‘We don’t have a big place.’

  ‘They are my personal guard,’ Thiede said. ‘Gelaming warriors. They will wait for me here.’

  ‘Are they alive?’ Seel asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Thiede answered. ‘The spectacle of our arrival will have dismayed you, but that was my intention. I wanted you to glimpse some of Wraeththu’s potential.’

  ‘How did you do that? Illusion?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Thiede patted the neck of his horse, which though more beautiful than any animal Seel had seen before, seemed earthly enough. ‘These creatures are sedim, vehicles that traverse vast distances in minutes. They can step out of reality and journey the otherlanes, the routes between different dimensions.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Seel. The whiskers around the horse’s nose were still crusted with ice crystals. It nudged Thiede affectionately with its head.

  ‘You sound sceptical, and I understand that,’ Thiede said. He laughed. ‘I like these creatures. In appearance, they are an ancient and primitive form of transport, and yet in reality the most sophisticated and advanced. It is like a joke, yes? Years back, we dreamed of silver ships to sail the universe, but this…’ He patted the horse again. ‘It is a fine joke.’

  ‘My sides are splitting,’ Seel said coldly. ‘Shall we go?’

  Colt and Stringer’s house really was too small to contain such a massive presence as Thiede. Seel had to smile at Stringer’s horrified expression as Thiede ducked beneath the doorway and strode into the kitchen. It was as if an angel had come to earth.

  ‘Guests for dinner,’ Colt said darkly.

  ‘Please be at ease,’ Thiede said, squeezing himself into chair at the head of the table: Colt’s place. He would be totally aware that ordinary hara could never be at ease in his presence. ‘Something smells good. Travelling always makes me hungry.’

  You are enjoying this so much, Seel thought. He sat down and said to Stringer, ‘Any chance you could break open a few bottles of wine?’ He looked at Thiede. ‘Stringer makes the best wine. He can make it out of anything.’

  Stringer nodded distractedly and left the room.

  ‘So?’ Seel said.

  Colt remained standing, arms folded. His expression was that of utter disapproval, but certainly not fear.

  You have your guards, but I have mine, Seel thought, a bolt of pure affection for Colt shooting through his heart.

  ‘So,’ Thiede said, spreading his fingers against the tabletop. He wore two huge rings, set with glittering stones. ‘Do you believe in destiny?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Seel answered.

  Thiede cast him a wry look. ‘Perhaps not the best start,’ he said. ‘Very well. I am sorry you have had to go through some rather unpleasant experiences, and more than sorry that Orien lost his life. I did not intend for that to happen.’

  ‘What did you intend?’ Seel snapped.

  ‘The first part,’ Thiede answered. ‘You found Pellaz for me. You helped incept him.’

  ‘Orien did that,’ Seel said. ‘I wouldn’t have become involved if I’d suspected any of what might follow.’

  Thiede paused and smiled. ‘Don’t delude yourself, Seel. You did suspect. You were quite prepared to go through with it then and you’d no doubt do the same again. What irks you is that you do not know its purpose. You are a proud har and you resent being kept in the dark. I am here to enlighten you.’

  Seel shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Stringer had returned with opened bottles of wine and now dispensed the drinks around the table. Thiede took a sip and nodded in approval. ‘Tasty.’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ Seel said. ‘What was Pell’s purpose and how did it go wrong?’

  ‘It didn’t,’ Thiede said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Cal went entirely wrong, but that was out of my control.’

  ‘Pell is dead. What was the point?’

  ‘He is dead yet he lives,’ Thiede said and took another sip of wine.

  Seel just stared at him, trying to absorb the words. After a while he said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘It will take some time, but eventually Pellaz will rise again, reborn and perfect. It is my intention to make him a divine king of Wraeththu.’

  Seel laughed nervously. ‘OK, fine.’

  Thiede made a tutting sound. ‘Again, the scepticism. Look inside your own trousers, my dear, and tell me the impossible can’t happen.’

  ‘You can do this? Raise a person from the dead?’

  ‘Not exactly. And no, I’m not here to reanimate Orien’s corpse, although even if I could you’ve left little for me to work with.’

  ‘It’s a disgusting thought. Absolutely wrong.’

  ‘I agree. What I’m doing with Pellaz is recreating him, his essence, his being, his energy, but with the personality intact.’

  ‘How? How is that possible?’

  ‘I’m not about to reveal my working secrets to you,’ Thiede said, grinning.

  ‘But if you can’t bring Orien back, how can you bring Pell back? His body was burned too.’

  ‘Well, let’s see,’ Thiede said carefully. ‘I was, shall we say, prepared for Pellaz’s death. Orien’s, on the other hand, took me by surprise.’

  ‘I find it difficult to accept or believe,’ Seel said. ‘You must appreciate that. How do you do it?’

  ‘I am able to, that is all,’ Thiede said. ‘I am not like you, Seel, nor any other har.’

  ‘Why? What are you? I wonder whether
you are Wraeththu at all.’

  ‘Let’s just say I am different, more Wraeththu than most. I am what your children will become. And before we get sidetracked into a discussion about procreation, yes, you will have heirs, Seel. But now is not the time to talk about it.’

  ‘I don’t believe you’ve just come here to tell me you’ve reanimated Pell,’ Seel said, still unable to believe a word of what he’d heard.

  ‘Indeed not,’ Thiede said. ‘I wish with all my heart that Cal had not come back here and committed such a dreadful atrocity. It makes my job more difficult, because your mind and feelings are clouded by the horror of it. You blame yourself, of course, as do many others. But I want you to try and put it aside for now, to listen to me.’

  ‘I will listen.’

  ‘Pell will need hara around him whom he trusts. I want one of those hara to be you.’

  Seel drew in his breath slowly. ‘I see.’

  ‘It will happen, Seel. You must accept it.’

  ‘What are you asking of me really?’

  ‘I want you to come to Immanion, to see for yourself.’

  ‘Cal’s dream,’ Seel said bitterly. ‘He always wanted to find Immanion. I thought it was a fantasy.’