‘Perhaps so, but I cannot see how your actions have helped to alleviate this situation either,’ Metatron said. ‘You should have contacted us.’
Alcobiel shimmered, pulsing faintly green. ‘Would you have warned us, had you been the ones privileged to realise the cause of this taint? No, I think not! Neither have you the strength to take the necessary steps. We knew what was required and caused a roar of entropy in the world. Entropy is anathema to the followers of Eloat. We needed substance and took nourishment from humanity...’
‘Which resulted in the abomination of the half-dead,’ Metatron said. ‘And the sudden incidence of sup-hungry humans in the Strangeling.’
Alcobiel shivered; perhaps another sign of mirth. ‘That is irrelevant. What we are doing has far more chance of effect against this threat than any number of Parzupheim meetings and prattlings.’
‘Probably so,’ Sammael said, ‘but now, Alcobiel, you and your kind must cease this activity in Khalt.’
‘Never! You cannot command us! We are the abandoned ones!’
‘It is not a command. You must see sense. If your suspicions are correct, and this intrusive influence has come from Elenoen, only I can handle the situation. Of all the eloim on Earth - you and your kind included Alcobiel - I alone retain sufficient memory of the old world. I am not like other eloim. You know that. I was created for a specific task, and once had the power to fulfil that task. Admittedly, my strength has atrophied over the centuries while I slept, but even my memories are more capable of dealing with the Watchers than anything you have tried to do.’
Alcobiel clearly did not agree with Sammael. It did not respond with words, but began to spin, around and around, throwing off sparks that hissed as they hit the damp floor. Metatron and I prudently retreated, but Sammael did not even flinch. He raised his right hand and absorbed the spinning light into his outstretched palm. Then, he closed his fingers over it. Alcobiel dimmed and shrank. ‘You will cease this activity,’ Sammael said quietly. ‘Because it could obstruct anything I might be forced to do. You have everything to gain from trusting me. If I can, I will secure you freedom of passage into your next reality.’
‘It would be unwise to contain the supra-normality we have conjured,’ Alcobiel said, ‘for the simple reason it is a repellent force to Elenoen. The chaotic influence we introduced might well have repulsed the invader already. Our descendants in Sacramante, and the paranoid flotsam scattered in hiding throughout the world, have become too static, too stagnant in consciousness, to risk confrontation with the intrusive force. If you intend to tackle this problem, you will do so alone, Sammael. You will find no help in Sacramante.’
‘I am prepared to stand by any decision I might make,’ Sammael said. ‘And you have my word that I will try to assist you.’
‘The Word of Light?’
‘Unutterable.’ Sammael came towards Metatron and I, where we stood close together, some distance away from Alcobiel. ‘We shall leave now,’ he said. ‘We can learn no more here, and I have plans to make.’
‘Sammael,’ I said. ‘I want to ask my own question.’
He sighed impatiently. ‘Very well, but be quick. This essence that calls itself Alcobiel is volatile.’
I let go of my father and approached the wavering form. ‘Are you angry with us?’ I asked.
It did not seem to hear me. Perhaps only Metatron and Sammael resembled it enough to communicate with it. I stood there for a few moments, just gazing upwards, trying to emanate all the feelings I held inside. Then, I turned away to return to the others, and a small, childlike voice entered my head.
‘We knew, Gimel Metatronim. We knew, when we accompanied the Prince of Light to this world... There was no way back; we were aware of this.’
I turned round and formed the words in my head. ‘Yet you still came.’
It did not answer in words, but I was given a picture, very briefly, a picture it is impossible to convey in words. I hoped the Sammael who they adored so completely, to whom they remained unflinchingly loyal, despite the tone of Alcobiel’s remarks, still existed.
Metatron held out his hand to me. As I took it, all light fled the passage, and with Pahadron leading us, we found our way back in utter darkness.
Outside, a rain-laden wind had sprung up, and the sky was darkening swiftly. I could see fires around the edge of the square, and did not relish the thought of spending a night in this place.
‘Will they obey you?’ Metatron asked.
‘Probably not,’ Sammael replied, ‘but for all Alcobiel’s threats and grand assumptions they are still an uncohesive force. It is not something I intend to worry about.’
‘Do you believe what it said about Elenoen?’ I asked. How easily that word flowed from the tongue. ‘Can that possibly be true?’
Sammael walked a short distance away from us, and Metatron and I exchanged a glance. Wouldn’t Sammael have somehow sensed it, if it were true? I felt he really wanted to believe it, for very private reasons; perhaps he could not be trusted because of that. Metatron made an impatient sound and went to help Pahadron round up the horses who were dispiritedly stripping a leaning tree of yellow leaves.
I wandered over to where Sammael was gazing at the sky. ‘What about Rayojini?’ I asked him. ‘Should she be told these things?’
‘Hmmm?’ He turned and blinked at me.
‘The soulscaper,’ I reminded him.
‘Oh yes, the soulscaper. Gimel, that procedure will have to be abandoned.’
‘What? That’s impossible!’
He shook his head. ‘No. In the light of what we’ve learned, the presence of a human in the soulscape of eloim can only serve as an attraction for unwanted influences. Think about it, Gimel. If kin from Elenoen are involved, it is beyond your soulscaper’s powers to deal with them. I realise now that the situation has been left unchecked too long for soulscaping to be a remedy. I feel that certain ideas of Alcobiel’s are right. For the moment, chaos is the eloim’s only defence against this intrusion. At least, the distraction it provides might give us time to formulate a defence strategy. Rayojini’s ministrations would only restore order. It is not a good idea.’
‘I have brought her so far, though,’ I said. ‘She may even be in Sacramante already.’
‘That is something you will have to ascertain,’ Sammael replied, ‘and deal with accordingly.’
Helplessly, I thought about how we had arranged things so that Rayojini would discover certain information for herself on the journey west. We had hoped that by the time she reached Sacramante, the final revelation of what was required of her, would not be too shocking or incredible. I knew what an enquiring mind my soulscaper had. I did not think we could easily persuade her to forget about the whole business, not after her curiosity had been deliberately piqued. ‘Sammael,’ I said. ‘Rayojini already knows so much about us. How can I just abandon her now?’
There was a short silence, while Sammael allowed me to think of the unthinkable.
‘I will not have her harmed!’ I said. ‘I mean that, Sammael.’
‘I really think you have to entertain the possibility that this singular priming you have given Rayojini might also be most useful to our opponents.’
‘If they know she exists, which they cannot!’
He shrugged. ‘There is little point in arguing about this here. Obviously, we must return to Sacramante. Think about what I have said on the journey home, Gimel. Think deeply.’
He walked away from me, leaving me staring at the gaping entrance to the catacombs. All that work; for nothing. I could not let him take all that away from me. I couldn’t. In his tower, Sammael had insisted that nothing compared with the skills of a Tap. Surely, Rayojini would be even more useful to us now. We could give her specific information about what we were looking for.
I was so angry and confused that I marched off across the square, needing a few moments to fume alone. Send Rayo back? I couldn’t do that! I couldn’t! Meeting her and working with her was
something I’d primed myself for - never mind the woman herself - for twenty odd years. We belonged to each other, surely?
I walked along a narrow street, where high walls leaned towards each other, veined by dead ivy. A wind blew mercilessly down the tunnel they formed and I pulled my coat around me more tightly. Rayo! I tried to call to her, but my mind was in such turmoil, I couldn’t summon the concentration. Eventually, I sat down on the cracked slabs of the street, and leaned against one of the walls. How I wished Beth was with me. Whatever our differences, I knew I could always count on his sympathy when I needed it. I lowered my face onto my arms, where they rested on my raised knees. I let the cold bite into me. I wept.
‘Lady Gimel...’
I don’t know how many minutes had passed, but at the sound of my name, spoken so softly, I raised my head. The voice had almost sounded like Beth’s, but it was Pahadron that I saw leaning over me, his enormous hat blotting out the sky. I hastily wiped my face, and made dismissive gestures with my hands.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ I said, beginning to rise.
The Harkasite took my arm and lifted me effortlessly to my feet. It felt as if I’d been blown into the air by a powerful gust of wind, and deposited as lightly as if a gentle breeze had lowered me down. ‘Lord Sammael sometimes speaks without realising what effect his ideas might have on his listener,’ Pahadron said.
I was surprised by his words, not just because he had actually spoken so many of them in one breath, but also because they seemed so untrue. Sammael’s tongue dripped silver, in my opinion. He would never speak anything but exactly what he intended to say. I was unsure whether to address the Harkasite as an equal, an inferior, or as an animal. ‘I am sure Lord Sammael is quite aware of the results of his words,’ I said, stiffly. This was none of the Harkasite’s business. To me, he was nothing more than an animated weapon. I had nothing to say to him.
‘Nonetheless, what he said to you is true,’ Pahadron said gently. His smile too was disturbingly gentle, considering the Harkasites’ reputation.
I directed a chill glance in his direction. ‘If you would escort me back to my father...’
He ignored my rather obvious signals. ‘I am aware of your plans,’ he said. ‘Metatron has spoken to me. Lady Gimel, look at me.’
I had walked past him. Reluctantly, I turned round.
‘I know what you think of me, and do not dispute that opinion. But remember, what might come through from Elenoen could destroy me with a glance.’ He smiled. ‘Much as you are trying to do at this moment!’
‘I have nurtured the soulscaper!’ I said. ‘I have been preparing her for many years. She is powerful! Sammael said so himself. It is impossible for me to abandon her now.’
‘She cannot possibly be powerful enough,’ Pahadron said. ‘If you love her - and I feel you do - you must remove her from your plans.’
‘You are a monster!’ I cried. ‘How can you advise me?’
‘I am a conjunction,’ the Harkasite replied. ‘A composite, who has slept for many years, but I have the memory of three separate lives. I can still remember love, Lady Gimel, and what it does to you.’
His reasonable, even-toned voice brought me to my senses a little. I was appalled at how I had insulted him. Whatever my feelings, I should not have voiced them so rudely. ‘Forgive me,’ I said. ‘I am distressed.’
‘There is nothing to forgive,’ he said. ‘I am all the things you despise, after all. If I discovered you were a threat to eloimkind I would kill you where you stand. And, should I be directed to dispose of your soulscaper, I would do that too, without a qualm. Now do you understand what I am trying to say to you?’
I had begun to shiver. ‘Yes, I understand,’ I said, and began to walk away. He did not follow me immediately.
Section Two
Rayojini
‘Turning our tortures into horrid arms against the torturer…’
Paradise Lost, Book II
Keea and I took a carriage to Sacramante from a border town in Bochanegra. We had walked far; a need to accelerate our quest for information provided the only excuse we needed to squander funds on the luxury of transport.
Once we arrived in the city, I was concerned about having my Khaltish currency changed into the Bochanegran coin, and our first destination was the exchange office. The city was in the throes of a late autumn festival and seemed to be full of Khalts, celebrating like crazy. Because of this influx, there was a shortage of funds, and we were told at the office that we would have to wait until morning before my currency could be exchanged. Keea said he did not have enough money to pay for my lodgings himself, which I did not entirely believe. Perhaps he still harboured a grudge because of the way I’d leapt on him in Ykhey. Neither of us had mentioned the incident since. Still, if Keea was not prepared to be generous, whatever his reasons, there was little I could do about it. The only Bochanegran currency I possessed was the gold coin that had been pressed into my hand at the gates of Ykhey by... whatever had pressed it into my hand. I was reluctant to spend it, naturally, but could see little other choice. Keea, I thought, ought to have many friends in the city, perhaps even some we could stay with for a couple of days, but now he claimed to hail from an outlying town further south. He was familiar with few people in Sacramante, he said, but did know of a lane near the atelier courts, which was thronged with cheap and tolerable inns.
I let him lead the way, even though he lost us once or twice down the twisting alleys. In the morning, after I had cleaned myself up, I would seek out the family I had visited with my mother as a girl and hope they’d be prepared to assist me.
Eventually, we found the lane he was looking for, called Aurora Paths. It was narrow and picturesque, conveying an ambience of cultivated simplicity, which must have been designed exclusively for tourists. Women and youths in peasant dress were stationed ostentatiously at tables outside on the lane itself, sipping dark red wines from earthenware goblets. ‘So which one do you care to patronise, Mistress Rayojini?’ Keea asked me. He looked tired.
‘You have no preference, no recommendation?’
He shrugged. ‘They are doubtless all alike.’
I began to walk up the lane, shifting my carryback into a slightly more comfortable position, looking forward to the moment I could divest myself of its weight. I looked at the names of the inns, and acted on whim.
‘This’ll do,’ I said. ‘The Temple Gate. I like the lanterns outside. What do you think?’
Again, a shrug. ‘I don’t mind.’
It was near dinnertime and The Temple Gate was quiet and empty, holding its breath before its guests descended in evening finery to eat. A thin young girl at the counter inscribed our names in a ledger, asked for a nominal sum as security, and gawked at the coin when I produced it from my pouch. ‘It is currency in this place, isn’t it?’ I asked sharply.
The girl nodded, round-eyed, and mumbled something about how she was unsure whether she’d be able to give me change for it.
‘It’s all I have,’ I said impatiently. ‘Can you accept it or not?’ Keea lounged against the counter, happy to let me handle this problem alone. He made no offer to pay for my accommodation himself.
‘I’ll have to fetch my father,’ the counter girl told me. ‘He is the proprietor.’
‘Please do!’ I glanced at Keea who shrugged. ‘This is intolerable,’ I said. ‘What is wrong with my money? How much is it worth, Keea? You must know - you live here!’
‘I’m unfamiliar with that particular coin,’ he said, unhelpfully.
The innkeeper came out to the counter clutching my coin. ‘You do know how much this worth,’ he said to me.
I made a helpless gesture. ‘It was given to me as a gift,’ I said. ‘What is it worth in dahli?’ Dahli were the standard coins in Sacramante. When the innkeeper told me, the amount astounded me. I’d had no idea I’d been presented with such riches. Ten thousand dahli! It was very embarrassing. Both the innkeeper and his daughter looked at me a
s if I was insane. I explained my position concerning the exchange office, my ignorance regarding rarer Bochanegran currency, and politely enquired whether or not we could come to an agreement until I could visit the exchange office in the morning.
‘Madam, this coin could keep you in our best suite, with every conceivable luxury, for many years,’ the innkeeper said dryly. ‘I am sure we can think of an arrangement that pleases us both.’ He was happy to let me open an account with the inn from which I could draw out funds as and when I needed them. Whatever remained in credit at the end of my stay would be refunded.
‘I am a soulscaper,’ I said airily. ‘The coin was payment for some work I undertook. I had no idea it was so valuable.’
The innkeeper smiled tolerantly. ‘Would that we could all be so flippant about our income,’ he said.
Still, he was impressed enough to show me up to my room personally. He hadn’t asked me whether I wanted one of the best rooms, but had evidently given me one anyway. It was spacious and airy, with a huge bed, a balcony and adjoining toilet room. I’d also offered to pay for similar accommodation for Keea, which he had accepted blithely. Well, I thought, since the money was unexpected, I might as well just spend it.
‘Would you like a maid to bathe you?’ the innkeeper asked me.
‘Why not,’ I said, ‘and a light meal would be appreciated too, if you could oblige.’
‘Anything you require.’ He saluted me respectfully and left the room.
I smiled to myself and sat down on the bed, gratefully unbuckling my carryback. I could get used to this treatment. After a few moments of basking luxuriously in my unexpected good fortune, I got to my feet, opened the long windows and walked out onto the balcony. In the distance, I could see the silver wrinkle of the sea and the tall masts in harbour. Late-flowering vines, growing thickly on the wall outside, exuded a delightful perfume that brought back all the memories of my previous visit to this city. A flicker of excitement filled my veins; I closed my eyes and visualised the torch-lit night of our excursion to the theatre: the colours, the perfumes, the radiant people. Gimel and Beth Metatronim. I opened my eyes, and already the light had faded towards evening. Between the trees below, firefly lights illumined the patios of the tavernas and cafes. I curled my fingers over the balcony rail. Gimel and Beth lived in this city; could I bear to seek them out? Perhaps it would be sensible. Perhaps, by seeing them in the flesh, I would exorcise the ghosts their images had conjured in my mind. By now, they would have lost their beauty; they would be ageing and sagging. I imagined tracking them down and telling them how they had affected me all those years ago. And yet, perhaps that confession would only bore them. It was likely that many people had been affected by them in a similar way; dreaming of celebrities, dreaming of touching them and possessing their bodies for a night. I was probably no different from their other admirers.