‘Mmm,’ Seel said. ‘Pell, do you know who or what Thiede really is? He’s not like the rest of us, is he? He’s told me as much himself.’
Pellaz stared at Seel for a few moments. ‘Yes, I know,’ he said softly.
Seel raised his hands. ‘Well?’
‘It’s not common knowledge. Thiede doesn’t want hara to know, for understandable reasons. He is… Seel, he is our progenitor, our father. He is the first of all Wraeththu. He is the Aghama.’
This did not come as a shock to Seel. It made complete sense. ‘I should have realised,’ he said.
Pellaz frowned a little. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but Swift already knows. Thiede told me he revealed the truth to Swift after the fall of Fulminir. He’s never mentioned it to you?’
Seel shook his head. ‘No. I assume Thiede must have told him to keep quiet about it.’
‘I’m not trying to stir anything up, telling you that, but…’
‘It’s OK. If Thiede had confided in me and asked me to keep my mouth shut, I would have done. A har would be a fool not to. I’ll not blame Swift for his silence.’
‘There is something else you should perhaps know,’ Pellaz said, his tone grave.
‘I’m listening.’
‘The second Wraeththu was Orien.’
‘What?’ Seel almost choked. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I remember being incepted and Orien telling me the story of how Wraeththu started. He was talking of Thiede and himself.’
‘When did you discover all this? As you’re telling me now, why the hell didn’t you tell me before?’
‘I discovered about Thiede very soon after I reached Immanion, because Vaysh told me. A short time afterwards, Thiede and I talked about it. He made me vow to keep silent. I’ve not told you because I had to respect Thiede’s wishes. You must understand that Thiede hides his feelings utterly. He acts as if everything and everyhar in the world is beneath him. This is not a true picture. I noticed that on one particular day of the year, Thiede goes to the High Nayati and spends some time in prayer there alone. He stays there all night. He never does that normally, and it became obvious to me he was marking some kind of anniversary. I asked him about it eventually and that’s when he told me. It is the day of Orien’s death.’
Seel couldn’t speak. He felt numb.
Pellaz reached for a lock of Seel’s hair, ran it through his fingers. ‘You might not want to hear this, but I’ll tell you anyway. When Orien died, Thiede felt it. He felt every knife thrust, Seel, every wound. He felt Orien’s terror and pain. You think he found Cal just because you asked him to? Don’t ever believe it. It is part of why I can never expect him to let me near Cal again. All he wants is to be the devil in Cal’s hell for the rest of his life. I don’t condone it. I hate it. But, in some ways, I also understand.’ Pellaz dropped his head. ‘Thiede would be furious if he knew I’d told you these things. You must promise never to repeat them to anyhar, not even Swift. I know that’s a lot to ask.’
Seel nodded. ‘I give you my word. But why doesn’t Thiede want hara to know? Surely, it could only help his numerous causes?’
‘There are some hara in the world who might not believe it,’ Pellaz said. ‘That would do more harm than good. Thiede doesn’t want to be bothered with unexpected repercussions. He’s happy with the way things are. Aghama might not be a god if he was revealed to be a har of flesh and blood, and Thiede believes Wraeththu need gods.’
‘Everything makes sense now,’ Seel said. ‘About Saltrock, about you… I wish Orien had trusted me enough to tell me.’
Pellaz shrugged. ‘Now you have to forget that you know.’
‘Thanks for telling me,’ Seel said. ‘I realise you didn’t have to.’
‘There have always been too many secrets,’ Pellaz said.
Seel’s smile was tight. Some could never be told.
Chapter Twenty Seven
From the mountain forests, the road winds down to wide plains, where a number of harish tribes took over human towns in the early days of Wraeththu. Eventually, the Varrs absorbed them, but some differences remain in customs and beliefs. It is a strange landscape, because the rigid human dwellings are still crumbling away and more organic Wraeththu structures are forming within them, as if rising up through the rubble, pushing it aside. Hara conjure the green of the land and it creeps over stone and cement. It consumes the ugliness of the past, crushes it beneath its inexorable advance, and the new dwellings appear little different from the trees that sprout from the ruins. There is no place in this landscape for houses like ‘We Dwell in Forever’; such buildings are only empty shells, sinking back into the earth. But the wide road remains, in places repaired with slabs of stone, and it is a ribbon to the sea.
Leef and Chelone led their company fast down this straight highway. At night, they would camp in ruins, and sometimes presences could be felt outside. The local hara were not hostile, and neither were they reputed to be particularly discouraging of strangers, but they clearly did not want to have direct contact.
Flick had told Ulaume what Mima had said to him, and it seemed that now Lileem had discovered the delights of aruna she wanted to indulge in it all the time. She and Mima were always creeping off somewhere to be alone. Flick thought back wistfully to his early days with Seel and a similar passion. He remembered the newness of being har, the terror and the delight, and the feeling that anything in the world was possible, that he was charmed.
It appeared that Seel had done nothing to initiate pursuit, which Flick thought was both a relief and something of a disappointment. Clearly, Seel had forgotten about Flick again already. Flick didn’t want to have Gelaming warriors bearing down on them, nor to be carted off to Immanion, but it would have been good to have some proof that he was in some way still important to Seel. So, on the last day of their journey, when they could already smell the sea in the air, Flick was silent, lost in his thoughts. He felt melancholy, but it was not a terrible feeling. Soon, he would leave this country behind and it was for the best. There was nothing left here for him.
The day was overcast, the air still. Tel-an-Kaa said she thought it felt as if it might snow, there was a heaviness in the sky, but then it didn’t look like a snow sky and it was too early in the year for it anyway.
‘No,’ Ulaume said, ‘it feels more like thunder. Perhaps a storm is coming.’
The sky was thick and white. It didn’t feel like a storm to Flick at all. But it did feel wrong.
Leef brought his horse up alongside Flick’s. He looked pale in the unearthly light, almost green. ‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘It’s not natural.’
Tel-an-Kaa, riding just ahead, turned in the saddle. ‘I am alert. Don’t worry.’
Leef and Chelone kept their eyes on the sky with such intensity, it made everyone else do the same. Flick kept looking back. The high forest was black on the distant horizon. They were far from Forever now. Surely they were safe.
Then Lileem said, ‘What’s that?’ She had turned her horse around and now pointed at the sky.
Flick looked back. There was a dense core to the clouds above the mountains. It looked like the pulsing pyroclastic flow of a volcano. Could it be smoke?
Tel-an-Kaa trotted her horse back to the others, squinting at the horizon.
‘Well?’ Leef said.
The Zigane was silent for a moment, then glanced towards the coast town, clearly calculating how quickly they could reach it at a full gallop. ‘I think maybe it is time to put heel to flank,’ she said in a surprisingly calm tone.
‘What is it?’ Lileem demanded.
Flick could see threads of lightning in the boiling clouds now, which were getting closer. It could be just a storm, couldn’t it? But a storm wouldn’t travel that fast.
‘An otherlanes gate is opening,’ Tel-an-Kaa said. ‘Gelaming. It’s a big gate, because it’s taking a time to manifest. That is not good news. It indicates a large number of hara approach.’
br />
This must be what Itzama had once tried to tell Flick about, to show him. The memories of his time with the shaman were so nebulous now. He wished he could remember more. He wished he had been braver when he’d been given the opportunity to learn more about these gates.
There was a grove of oaks to the side of the road and Tel-an-Kaa said, ‘Ride to the trees. There is no time for flight.’
‘What good will that do?’ Ulaume said. ‘We can hardly hide there.’
‘Do as I say,’ said the Zigane. ‘Trust me.’
In the shelter of the trees, Tel-an-Kaa dismounted and walked around the grove, touching each trunk. Flick could hear her muttering.
An immense crack of thunder shook the sky. Lileem uttered a yelp and crouched down on the ground, pressing herself against an oak. Mima hunkered down beside her to reassure her. Ulaume and Flick went to the edge of the trees. Flick was terrified, but he had to see this. A wind had started up and it smelled of ozone, rushing from the west.
The strange clouds seemed to implode, but then with another mighty crash they split asunder. About three dozen creatures poured from the hole in the sky, like warriors of an angelic army. They were white, pure white, against the dirty clouds.
‘We’re fucked,’ Chelone remarked laconically.
‘No!’ Tel-an-Kaa snapped. ‘Go into the centre of the grove.’
The Zigane arranged them all in a tight huddle and then began to walk around them, touching each one with her icy hands and chanting softly, in a language they had never heard. She murmured certain phrases, over and over, and soon the sound of the words echoed in the heads of everyone in the grove.
Ulaume began to take up the chant also, whispering beneath his breath, and presently the others followed his example. The chant conjured a web of power around them.
Through the trees, Flick could see a company of white horses galloping down the road towards them. Their riders were dressed in silver and their flying hair was the same colour as the horses’ manes. Gelaming. He had never seen anything so beautiful. If these are the angels, he thought, then we must be the devils.
They were so close now and the chant was rising in pitch. Surely the Gelaming could see them standing in the trees and hear their voices? Soon they would veer off the road and surround them.
The voices sounded feverish now, chanting so fast the words melted into one another. Flick could feel the spiralling power they had conjured, but how could it be enough? Couldn’t angels see through everything?
Tel-an-Kaa suddenly screeched, ‘Release!’ and Flick, like the others, was compelled to throw up his arms. He felt something tear out of him, like part of his spirit. He imagined a shining cloud bursting out of them all, a cloud which then drifted down over them like a caul.
The ground shook, and the Gelaming horses thundered by, so close. Flick could see crystals flying off their manes and tails. He could see their distended nostrils, the sweat upon their necks. They could not really be horses. He could see the hands of the riders upon the reins, and their stern countenances. And then he saw only the dust of their passage and the sound of hooves grew fainter.
He released his breath, realising he had been holding it for a long time. The group broke up, each wandering towards the edge of the trees.
‘Will they come back?’ Lileem asked. ‘Will they search for us in the town?’
‘We do not leave the boundary of this grove for some time,’ Tel-an-Kaa said. ‘Step back, Lileem. Do not break the web.’
‘They were magnificent,’ Mima said in rather a dazed tone. ‘And they are my brother’s tribe.’
‘Beautiful to behold,’ said Tel-an-Kaa, ‘like a snake with its jewelled coat. Do not be deceived. They are ruthless.’
Tel-an-Kaa made them wait until sunset before they left the grove. They kept off the road and galloped through the fields towards the town, the horses jumping over sagging fences that had fallen into disrepair. They careered through farmyards and woods, until they could hear the song of the ocean as it threshed against rocky cliffs. The clouds had dispersed and now moonlight illumined the narrow road they took down to the little port of Atagatisel, renamed for an ancient goddess of the sea.
Tel-an-Kaa had sent a mind-touch message to parazha of her tribe that patrolled the north eastern coast, looking for Kamagrian wanderers. The Zigane had made sure that a boat would be waiting for her party. The town was dark and quiet, almost too much so, and Flick could barely draw breath. It was built on a sheer hillside and all the narrow streets sloped alarmingly. Every time they passed a side alley, Flick expected to see a ghostly Gelaming horse materialise before their eyes. Seel had sent hara to find them, after all. What did this really mean?
Tel-an-Kaa did not take them to the main harbour, but to a private jetty just outside the town. Trees that grew right to the shoreline hid it from prying eyes. Here, a har was waiting for them in a small rowing boat.
‘He will take us to the ship,’ Tel-an-Kaa said. ‘He is one of Opalexian’s most trusted agents, and as foxy as any Gelaming. His name is Zackala.’
‘No,’ said Flick. ‘That is just too much of a coincidence.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ulaume asked.
Flick shook his head. ‘Nothing. Cal was once chesna with a har named Zackala, but he is dead.’
‘Like Pell is,’ said Ulaume. ‘There are no coincidences.’
‘No, there aren’t,’ Tel-an-Kaa said, ‘but there are many lies.’
The Zigane rode up to the jetty and dismounted, and Zackala jumped out of the boat to hold her horse. ‘Hurry,’ she called to the others. ‘Leef, Chelone, you had better get going, very quickly. Ride south and then go across country back to the mountains. The Gelaming are near, but my colleagues in this area have emitted an ether fog to beguile them. It will not fool them for long.’
Flick dismounted and patted the horse affectionately. He’d miss it. Leef and Chelone didn’t even dismount. They gathered up the reins of the horses between them.
‘Good luck,’ Leef said to Flick. ‘I hope we meet again one day.’
‘I doubt very much I will return to Forever,’ Flick said, ‘but it was good to know you for this short time. Thanks for all you’ve done.’
‘Our pleasure,’ Chelone said. ‘May the Aghama smile upon your journey.’
With these words, they set off, without a backward glance.
‘Poignant,’ said Ulaume in a cynical tone.
‘Hurry,’ Tel-an-Kaa said. ‘Get into the boat. I’m picking up impressions of two distinct Gelaming groups. They are passing in and out of this reality continually. They will find us very soon if we don’t leave here.’
Zackala helped them aboard. It was difficult to see what he looked like, because a black scarf hid his head and most of his face. His garments too were black and he did not speak. As soon as they were safely seated, he untied the boat and began rowing powerfully out to sea. Flick kept his eyes fixed on the shore. It was happening so quickly, it was surreal. Only minutes ago, they’d been part of a larger company and now everything had changed. He felt dizzy with it.
Lileem was sitting beside him. Now, she leaned close and murmured, ‘Look at the cliff top, to the right of the town.’
A shudder went through him, but he did what she said. He saw a lone white horse up there, standing so still it could have been carved from marble. A figure was mounted upon it, swathed in a pale hooded cloak that flapped in the wind. Flick felt as if the eyes concealed by the hood could see every detail of the passengers in the boat. The horse might take off at any moment and gallop a road of light across the sea to them. He was filled with an emotion he could not name, but which made him want to both laugh and cry hysterically.
‘The others can’t see it,’ Lileem whispered. ‘I think the image is for you.’
‘Why?’ Flick hissed.
‘Don’t tell Mima,’ Lileem said. ‘She must never know. That is her brother Pellaz.’
In those days, but for hara like the Gelaming,
most Wraeththu had recourse only to primitive methods of transport. Natural reserves of fuel might remain deep within the earth, but few tribes were yet organised enough to mine them. Powerful hara closely guarded remaining stocks. Much of the sophistication of earlier human culture had disappeared. In the beginning, Wraeththu were little more than children, fierce and primitive barbarians, who were so fuelled with blood lust to destroy the old order they didn’t for one minute think about how they would live once the fighting was over, when there was no one left to fight but other hara. Many skills had been lost or had to be relearned. What did education matter when your only thought was to run wild through the night, celebrating, or perhaps trying to forget, the impossible excesses of your new being?
Therefore, among many other difficulties, crossing the great ocean that Wraeththu called the Girdle of Tiamat was a lengthy, if not hazardous, undertaking. Once, humans had flown over it in silver birds in a matter of hours, or great engine-powered ships had cleaved its fretful waters in days, but now the best vessels were modelled on ancient sailing ships from the past and the journey could take weeks. It was fortunate that once hara began to grow up, the best among them discovered they were resourceful, creative and worked well with their hands. Eventually, they would go on to create machines and vessels far superior to anything humanity had invented, because they could pluck the very stuff of the universe from the source and shape it to their dreams, such as Thiede had done with his sedim. But most hara were still working their way up, experimenting with designs and mastering their crafts, and a reliable and efficient alternative power source lay some distance into the future.
The ship, ‘Night’s Arrow’, was of Roselane design, and its crew were harish. Shamans among them were adept in affecting the weather, singing to the sea to quiet its tempers and calling up the winds to speed the journey. This was the harish equivalent of powerful engines and navigation systems. It seemed strange that the Roselane had developed the skill of shipwrighting, seeing as their territory was land-locked, but they had a strong presence in the domain of the Emunah, which extended widely around the Sea of Shadows and the smaller Sea of Arel that was connected to it.