‘Ulaume’s told me about that place.’
‘Cal returned to Saltrock,’ Flick said. ‘He killed one of my dearest friends, because he blamed him for Pell’s death. The story isn’t over. Everything is still rippling or vibrating or something. I had to come here.’
‘Ulaume is up at the white house,’ Mima said. ‘Perhaps you two should talk.’
Mima kept guard over the settlement because, despite Ulaume’s assurances to the contrary, she feared that one day the Wraeththu who had devastated her home and family would return to finish her off. She wasn’t concerned for herself so much as for Lileem, who she loved passionately. She could tell when someone was Wraeththu or human immediately now. She had perceived a spectral light around Flick and knew it for what it was. She had also realised he’d posed no threat but had attacked him regardless, because even though she’d known they’d end up talking, it helped scratch the nerve of pain inside her to beat him up a little before this happened. She had new strengths and most of them she enjoyed having. She took Ulaume and Lileem for granted because they had become like family, but this new har intrigued her. He looked like a boy, pale-skinned and elfin, with his long hair in braids. Perhaps Ulaume would take aruna with him, because it seemed so important, and the thought of this intrigued Mima even more. Despite her rages and resentments, she had become a precarious part of Wraeththu, forever excluded from its mysteries in some ways, but nevertheless attached and curious. She found she did not want Flick to think of her as a human female, but also felt shy of telling him anything to the contrary. It would sound embarrassing and coarse. Ulaume would have to tell him.
Flick had calmed his pony and now walked with Mima up the hill to the house.
‘This was where the owner of the farm lived,’ she said. ‘Sefton Richards. He’s dead now, but who isn’t?’
‘Did Ulaume save you from the raiders?’ Flick asked.
‘No, I saved myself. Ulaume came later, but not much later. Just as well. They would have done something awful to him, and the harling.’
‘Harling? Ulaume has a child?’
‘Not his own. Lileem is… well, different. You’ll see.’
‘I’ve never seen one, hardly believed it was possible.’
‘Perhaps it isn’t. Maybe you’re not meant to breed.’
‘What do you mean? Is something wrong with the harling?’
‘No, she’s perfect.’
‘Ah…’ Flick smiled to himself. ‘I see.’
The harling in question came bounding out of the house as Mima and Flick were putting the pony into one of the empty stables. ‘Mima, Mima, who’s this?’ it demanded. To Flick, the child looked very much like he’d imagined a Wraeththu harling would look: neither male nor female, but something of both. As it should be. It appeared to be around four or five years old, with the somewhat exotic look of the Kakkahaar in the catlike eyes and golden skin.
‘Leelee, this is Flick,’ Mima said, ‘a friend of my brother’s.’ She pulled the harling back against her, who leaned against her legs, staring up at Flick in unconcealed curiosity.
Ulaume had come out of the house and his expression was hostile. ‘A visitor,’ he said, ‘how nice.’
‘Behave,’ Mima said, ‘be friendly. Flick is from Saltrock.’
‘The home of fine upstanding hara,’ Ulaume said. ‘The ones who transformed your brother into a little pillar of piety.’
‘Flick wants to talk to you,’ Mima said, wondering how long it would take for Ulaume’s fur to stop standing on end. He was so much like a cat sometimes. How much ritual spitting and hissing, and occasional swipes would there be, before he settled down to purring and curling up to exchange licks, or whatever it was they did?
‘We don’t get many visitors,’ Mima said to Flick, ‘and look what that has done for some of our manners.’
‘It’s OK,’ Flick said. ‘I don’t care about manners. Could use a drink though.’
‘Come in,’ Ulaume said spitefully and marched back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
‘Lormy is so rude!’ said the harling.
‘It’s territory, kitten,’ Mima said, ‘that’s all it is.’
Destiny had brought Flick to Casa Ricardo and there had been a dysfunctional family waiting there for him. From the minute he stepped into the house, Flick knew there was work to be done and that his fingers were itching to do it. This was not a home. It was makeshift, unkempt and unloved, although it was clear that cursory attempts at comforts had been made. But it was a far cry from the amenities of Saltrock. He had come here to give Mima the information about Pellaz, and this he did at once, but there was more than that. Mima told him about Lileem, while Ulaume remained stubbornly silent on the matter. There were questions that needed answers. Orien had directed Flick to come here. Was it simply to help these people? Flick did not tell any of them about his visions, not at first. He must wait and see. Lileem was perhaps part of the future he had been brought here to witness.
That first night, after dinner, which Flick had cooked for them, Mima said, ‘What are you going to do now, Flick? Where will you go?’
‘I don’t know,’ Flick replied. ‘I need to think about it. I wonder if I might stay here with you for a time.’
Ulaume made a noise of annoyance and left the table. He slammed the kitchen door as he left the house.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Mima said. ‘He’ll come around.’
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t stay,’ Flick said.
‘No, do stay!’ Lileem cried. ‘Please, please, please!’
Mima wiped bread around the gravy on her plate, then consumed it with relish. ‘I, for one, look forward to more of this! How about a deal? You cook for us, we let you stay.’
‘Yes!’ Lileem yelled.
‘I’ll more than cook,’ Flick said. ‘Believe me, I’m adept at housekeeping and at fixing the plumbing.’
Mima laughed. ‘Wonderful. I’ve decided I like you, Flick from Saltrock.’
He inclined his head. ‘Likewise, Mima Cevarro.’
‘Sorry I beat you up earlier.’
‘Forgiven.’
For some months, the house consumed Flick’s attention. He worked on the water heating system, which was similar to the one Seel had constructed for the house in Saltrock. He repaired the roof and replaced broken windows with glass from the dwellings down the hill. With Lileem’s and Mima’s help, he cleared rooms and reorganised furniture, so that they could have proper bedrooms and a living room, as well as the kitchen. He said that when four individuals lived together, they needed more than one comfortable room, so that they could get away from one another sometimes. This was an offering to Ulaume, although if he realised it he did not show it and certainly wasn’t grateful. They also had a proper dining room, that they had yet to use, but envisaged would be suitable for birthday celebrations and such like.
Flick took Mima and Lileem out into the fields and beyond to round up what remained of the old farm stock: a few goats, sheep and cattle and – most useful of all – a family of burros. Now, they could ride together to neighbouring farms, which were often more than a day’s journey away, to collect samples of surviving crops to plant in their own land, as well as any further stray animals, which they could add to their breeding stock.
Ulaume watched all these activities with the same sour expression he wore while eating Flick’s meals. He would not become involved in them and rarely spoke to Flick directly. Flick knew that Ulaume wished he would leave and that it would be a good idea to try and include Ulaume more in what they were doing. Lileem and Mima constantly praised Flick’s efforts, and this made Ulaume feel superfluous and useless. Flick thought this was a shame, because whatever Ulaume was like, he had brought Lileem to safety and had done what he could to create a home. But Flick’s pride balked at the continued sullen behaviour and he couldn’t bring himself to extend a hand of friendship until Ulaume realised it would be better to thaw than continue to freeze. There was no indication t
his would happen in the near future.
If it hadn’t been for Mima and Lileem, who Flick grew to love very quickly, he would have moved on from Casa Ricardo. Fortunately, the warmth of the others more than made up for Ulaume’s frigid silences and the stultifying atmosphere he seemed to carry around with him like a bad smell. Flick felt slightly guilty about it, because he knew that Ulaume thought his life had been spoiled. Flick didn’t want to be Ulaume’s enemy, or to cause him hurt in any way, but he couldn’t see how the matter could be put right. He couldn’t be so selfless as to leave the settlement just to please the Kakkahaar.
Each night Flick would go out beneath the stars and perform small rituals to Aruhani, with whom he felt a particular affinity, and occasionally to Lunil. He did this to keep in touch with the dehara. He sought further information, although none was forthcoming. Perhaps he needed Itzama’s potions for that. He had brought some of the fungus with him from the cave, but shrank from using it alone.
One night, Lileem followed him in secret, waited until he’d finished his devotions, then emerged from cover to ask him what he was doing. Flick sensed immediately the burning curiosity within the harling, the hunger for experience and secrets. He told her all he knew and Lileem sat listening, her eyes wide, brimming with new ideas. Occasionally, she would interrupt him to add to his story. ‘Lunil keeps a bird with silver feathers who has three heads. One speaks only the truth, another only lies, while the third speaks in riddles.’
Flick wasn’t sure whether Lileem genuinely added details to his pantheon or was just making it up like a fairy story, but perhaps it didn’t matter. She was imaginative and he liked the things she invented. Lileem clearly loved the idea of the dehara and would pester Flick for stories all the time. She insisted that one night, she had seen Lunil with her own eyes. He had flown out of the moon as a flock of ghostly owls, only to transform into a silver skinned har with blue hair, who had danced in the tree outside her bedroom window and sung to her. Lunil was an especial favourite of hers. Together, she and Flick created myths. He began to teach her how to read and write, and was astounded at her brightness and eagerness to learn. Lileem practiced her new skills by making up illustrated stories about the dehara, using pencils she and Flick had found in an old desk in the house. Sometimes, they used one of her drawings as a focus during a ritual, in the way that a statue might be used. Flick told Lileem about cult statues and the harling immediately thought about how they could make their own. She used mud from the streams, but was not pleased with the results. Her fingers couldn’t reproduce the fabulous entities she saw in her head.
Lileem was a constant source of wonder to Flick. She was impossible, yet perfect, an ideal companion, who shared his new love of the mysterious and unseen. They worked well together, like a magician and his apprentice. She learned quickly. He was curious about what she actually was and for some weeks debated whether to ask her intimate questions. Eventually, he introduced the subject and found she didn’t mind talking about it. She told him that once she had thought about it all the time, how different and how similar she might be to Ulaume, but now she didn’t consider it much at all. It no longer seemed important. ‘Not since you came,’ she said. ‘You’re showing me better things.’
She looked as if she was a human child of five or so, yet her manner and her intelligence was far more mature. ‘Will you show me something, Lee?’ Flick asked. ‘I want to understand about you. Can I see what your body is like?’
She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. ‘No, I don’t want to do that. It wouldn’t feel right.’
‘That’s OK. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Perhaps when I’m older,’ she said gravely.
‘There may be others like you,’ Flick said, and Lileem cast him a strange, furtive glance.
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Maybe we’ll never know.’
Sefton Richards had owned quite an impressive library, and Flick began teaching Lileem from its books. They would sit together at the wide desk in the old dark room, with the morning light falling in upon them, making a pool of radiance near the window.
One day, Lileem pored over an old biology book, studying the diagrams of human bodies. ‘How strange to be so…’, she wrinkled up her nose, ‘incomplete.’
‘Perhaps you could try drawing what a har looks like, what you look like,’ Flick said carefully.
‘OK.’ She pushed her hair back behind her ears and began to draw slowly. ‘Men and women must have been really jealous of one another.’
‘That’s an interesting way of looking at things.’
Lileem grinned, because she liked compliments. Presently, she handed her drawing to Flick and he had to suppress a smile. ‘Lileem, there are all sorts of extras on this! Don’t tell me it looks like you.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s what I want to be like. We should have wings everywhere, shouldn’t we?’
‘In a perfect world, maybe! Here, let me draw something for you. I’m no artist, but it’ll give you and idea.’
Flick gave Lileem a very badly drawn diagram of Wraeththu physiology and told her to keep it. She glanced at it, folded the paper twice and put in the pocket of her trousers. Flick sensed she still felt her body was very private, perhaps because of careless things Ulaume might have said in the past. To Lileem, there was no need to dwell on what she was. She was only a child, and the vast reaches of time stretching before her obviously meant little. But Flick knew that she couldn’t hide away here forever; none of them could. They could live for a long time and eventually Wraeththu society would reach out and touch them in some way. It was not inconceivable that other hara had already been compelled to find the birthplace of Pellaz Cevarro. He had no doubt met many people on his travels with Cal and had affected them like he’d affected Ulaume. One day, Flick was sure, others would find them here. And by then Lileem might be adult. She was an enigma, and there was neither prurient nor morbidly curious intent on Flick’s part when he’d asked to see her body. He felt it was essential he should know and privately scorned Ulaume for not investigating the matter when Lileem had been younger. It showed, in his opinion, a lack of responsibility. Now, Lileem was shy about such things and not even Mima knew what secrets she hid beneath her clothes. Ulaume had only seen her naked when she was very little and said that although the ouana organs had appeared atrophied the soume-lam had seemed fairly normal, but how could they tell? None of them had seen a Wraeththu harling before. Lileem insisted she was more female than male, and Mima, perhaps for reasons of her own, tended to agree. Lileem wanted to be termed ‘she’, but this might only be because she knew she was different and not because it was a correct label for her difference.
As for Mima, Flick thought that being around hara had changed her. She was so like Pell, it was uncanny, and not just in physical appearance. There was a strangely familiar aura around her and when it touched Flick as they worked together, he felt there was another har beside him, not a human female. He was not drawn to her sexually. Instead, it inspired a kind of comfort within him. He felt he could trust her utterly and sometimes he was sure she could hear his unguarded thoughts. Occasionally, he would experiment by sending out a clear mind call, but to these Mima would never respond. Flick, however, could not dispel the impression this was deliberate and that she was concealing her abilities.
But these enigmas were put aside in the spring, when a new mystery presented itself to Flick. He had long accepted that the white house was a haunted place, and thought it no surprise, considering the many violent deaths that had taken place in the locale. He had often felt strange tinglings in his spine as he worked in the garden or walked though the settlement seeking tools and other supplies in the empty houses. Then, it came to Flick’s attention that Mima was taking food from their stores and disappearing into the settlement with it. He followed her on a couple of occasions, and found that she laid the food out behind the old Cevarro house. Eventually, he cornered her in the kitchen one morning and asked her outright
what she was doing.
‘They are offerings,’ she said.
Flick was interested at once. ‘Offerings for spirits? Your family?’
Mima frowned. ‘Not exactly…’ She sighed deeply. ‘I feel awkward about this, but there’s no point keeping it secret, really. I have two dead brothers, Flick, but one still walks.’
And so the story of Terez came out. Flick’s initial reaction was of complete shock, not because a har had failed to complete an inception, but because Ulaume had done nothing about it. To Flick, this was typical Ulaume behaviour.
Mima came to Ulaume’s defence. ‘There’s nothing anyone can do. Terez is a walking corpse, but he can’t die. He won’t let me near him. He is terrified of those who live. Perhaps the kindest thing to do would be to kill him properly, but I can’t do it. I can’t. So I bring him food. Because of all that you’ve done, we live well now. I want Terez to share that, in whatever small way he can.’
‘You must take me to him,’ Flick said. ‘There must be something we can do.’
‘There isn’t,’ Mima said. ‘I’m responsible for what happened, Flick. I have to live with it.’
Flick thought about it for a while. ‘You acted out of ignorance, but not with malice. It’s not your fault. I think we could try to repeat the inception.’
Mima’s expression brightened. ‘We could do that? Is that possible?’
‘Ulaume should have thought of it before.’ Flick frowned. ‘But how? We lack the proper equipment. Blood has to be transfused.’
Mima stared at him steadily. He looked into her eyes and saw a small, fearful hope within them. She wet her lips with her tongue, swallowed. ‘Could we not… could we not feed him blood?’
Flick shook his head emphatically. ‘No, it doesn’t work that way.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ve seen hundreds of inceptions. We are not vampires, Mima.’