"What is he?" I asked, somehow frightened, like looking into a huge space, dark and cold; somehow sure Orien would know the answer.
"No-one knows for sure," he said, guardedly. "Thiede is certainly different to any other Nahir-Nuri I've met. Sometimes he seems barely even Wraeththu. But then, we are a new race. Those of Nahir-Nuri caste are relatively few at present. One day I shall understand perhaps. However, Thiede has only been here twice before and then never as Hienama."
I was shocked. "You mean I am the first. . . ?" (A memory: Seel surprised. "Him?!")
"Yes," Orien confirmed. "He has never performed a Harhune here before. Yet here he was, as if by magic, when you were ready for yours. Pell, I feel I should warn you, but I don't know what against."
As if by common consent, Orien and I never mentioned Thiede again to each other. By now, I realized it was important to progress, for my own protection perhaps. Aspects of my training would often leave me unnerved, like waking from a bad dream. The first time, for example, that my own unsuspecting mind made contact with another's, filled me with disquieting anxiety. Orien spoke to me without words. He touched my brow lightly and I heard him say, "Rise, Pell, rise . . ." His lips never moved. I tried to communicate back and he laughed and stepped away, telling me that my thoughts were as confusing as a whirlwind. It took time for me to relax enough to touch his mind with calm and confidence. I learned also how to manipulate matter to my will, the concentration for which is exhausting. Many times, I was at the point of giving up, only Orien's soothing encouragement keeping me going. The first time I managed to shift a small cup along a tabletop by sheer willpower alone, I nearly wept with relief. I was learning to flex my muscles, the muscles of my own power. Lack of confidence was the worst handicap, and the first that Orien was anxious to help me overcome. To his credit, through patience and understanding, he succeeded. I studied hard and within six months passed to Neoma. Then Orien told me that I would have to continue my studies elsewhere to ascend to Brynie. Saltrock did not have enough hara of third-level Ulani to conduct the ceremony. I did not want to leave. My life at Saltrock had been nothing other than blissful. I had learned many things and made many friends. When we worked together, I revelled in the shared sense of achievement. I did not want to lose that. Yet I also knew that I must go on. Neoma was
it enough. It was obvious to myself and to everybody, that I had great reserves of ability. I had no intention of letting it atrophy from disuse before I even discovered it fully.
Cal was still obsessed with finding Immanion. Often, when we lay in the afterglow of aruna, curled around each other like sleepy snakes, he would relate at great length all he believed Immanion to be. A place of great beauty, calm and symmetry; certainly a place where Wraeththu had disassociated themselves from the violence and chaos of the world and had built up a superior society, tranquil and affluent. It would be a place of soaring crystal towers, glistening in the brilliance of perpetual sunlight. Cal thought it was somewhere all hara should naturally head for. I was shrewd enough to realize that the Gelaming hid its location because they preferred to seek out themselves the people they wanted within its walls; nobody would ever find it by chance. However, I humored him. It would have been presumptuous of me to contradict him. He would say, "Don't get uppity, Pell, you've seen nothing yet. Saltrock's a haven," if ever I did pass an opinion he considered was founded on imagination. I knew I had acquired knowledge
Cal could never learn, and I also knew where it sprang from. Something made me hide it; respect for Cal was not the least of the reasons.
One day Seel had to go to another town for supplies. It was decided Cal and I would go with him. The time had come for us to go on. We would not return to Saltrock with Seel. On the last night, we had a farewell party in the square. I was nearly heartbroken. It was possible we would never see OUT friends again; anything could happen Outside. Everyone was there. Mur and Garis, lean, gothic and sharp as needles to the end. Mur shared breath with me and I could taste ice and metal. Flick, I could only hug to me, genuinely sorry to leave him. His was a taste of welcoming fire in a cosy room and soft animal fur. He was a true friend, and when the time came, I turned the world upsidedown to find him again.
The fire had sunk low and nearly everyone had drifted back to their homes when Orien bid me farewell. He gave me a talisman, which I still have, of a sacred eye.
"Be strong, Pell," he said, and I could feel tears behind my eyes. It was difficult to speak.
"Only you know . . ." My voice quavered; I could not help it. Orien nodded, firelight shining through his hair, his face in darkness.
"Be wise as well," he said. "The time will come ..." I threw myself against him, my chest tight with grief. "I know, I know!"
Orien knew more of my fate than he cared to tell me, but he could not see all of it. Somewhere, out there, my future hovered like a poison insect. Orien let me weep out my fear.
"After this time, Pell, never show your tears. Never! You are a child no longer."
It was advice I took to heart. In the cold light of pre-dawn, I saddled up Red outside Seel's house. All the windows were dark with farewell, as if we had already gone. Cal had used a little of our money to buy another horse off Seel, bigger and showier than Red, but not as hardy and, surprisingly, not as fast. Seel had been going to use a pickup truck for the journey, but because we were going as well, and on horseback, he settled for a covered cart drawn by two heavy horses. Because it was a slower and more vulnerable method of transport, he took three armed hara with him as protection. All our good-byes had been concluded the night before, and no-one came out to see us off. When I had come to Saltrock my clothes had been barely more than rags covering the gangling awkwardness of youth. Now, when I caught a glimpse of myself in Seel's windows, I realized I had changed beyond all recognition. Gone was the tatty-haired, grubby child with the luminous eyes, bony knees and bony shoulders. I was a year and a half older and a year and a half taller. My hair was still cropped close at the sides of my head, but long down my back and combed high over the crown and wisping into my eyes. Clad in leather and black linen, silver hoops hung through my hair, three in each ear. I spared a thought for Mima and the rest of my family. Would they have recognized me? No. For the essence of the Pellaz they had nurtured had gone. All I retained of my former self was the memory of it.
I had had to leave most of the belongings I had collected behind. Cal refused to waste money on a pack horse. Also, it would have slowed us down. I had not got much, but I was sad to leave it at Saltrock and reluctantly gave it all to Flick. We set off at a brisk trot, down to the farthest shore of the lake where a guarded pass led to the outside world. The rising sun gilded the sulphurous surfaces of the lake; drowsy birds
clustered on crystal spars, gaunt, black shadows. Behind us, a dog barked to greet the morning. I did not look back; never again did I look back.
Greenling was not strictly a Wraeththu town. Men existed in surly, wary alliance with hara. We arrived there, mid-afternoon, three days after leaving Saltrock. The land around it was dry, with desert encroaching from the south, but grudgingly fertile and the Wraeththu folk much more urbane. Two women were walking down the road toward us and one of them recognized Seel. She waved and ran over to us. Seel, being the charmer that he is, has an easy, friendly manner with humankind. The woman jumped up on the cart beside him. I realized with some amazement, even disgust, that they were flirting with each other. The men of Greenling, whether by accident or by commonsense, were clever in their acceptance of Wraeththu. Although their kind were dwindling, they would carry on unmolested and in peace until the end. Needless to say, this was not a common circumstance. In other areas humankind would not give up the idea that they were meant to rule the world. In those places, men and hara fought each other like dogs for territory, for commodities, for fuel. Not many places had the calm air of Greenling, where the two races existed alongside each other, somewhat reluctantly sharing resources.
Seel called me
forward. "Pell, this is Kate. I usually stay with her family when I come here."
She began to smile, then looked alarmed. "We haven't got room for all of you!"
"I know, I know," Seel teased her. "We'll put up at Feeny's place. Anyway, your father would see us off with a shotgun. He can only handle Wraeththu when they're in a minority."
Kate's smile came back again then and she relaxed against the seat, proud to be seen with us.
Feeny's was a small hostel-come-bar and seedy in the extreme. The proprietor, a large, oily man and an apparent stranger to the concept of hygiene, grumbled at having to find room for six. While Cal organized our rooms, Kate grabbed my arm and flounced me off to buy a drink. She bought me a beer (uncannily enough one of the first things she did next time we met). Boyish in her manner, barely older then myself, she sprawled on a stool like an ungainly colt, appraising me with green eyes, "I curse the day I was born a woman," she told me.
"I can see that," I muttered drily. She unnerved me because she reminded me of Mima, although in appearance they were entirely dissimilar. Kate had blond hair, the kind that is almost green, and not such a bony face as my sister.
"It's so unfair," she continued, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand (a hardened beer drinker!), "I know I would make a brilliant har."
What could I say to that? I could not tease her like Seel. She could sense my discomfort and hated it. She asked me my name, how old I was, where I was born, even how I did my hair!
"'Why me?" I asked her, attempting to stem the flow of her questions. "Have you pestered all the others like this?"
"Oh no!" she exclaimed with an endearing innocence, and shaking her head vigorously. "You were the most beautiful.
"I shall have to wear a mask then," I laughed, "Otherwise I might be hounded by inquisitive girls to the ends of the earth."
"Wear a mask?" she grimaced with a careless wave of her hand and taking another gulp of her drink. "What makes you think that will hide it?"
There was some truth in what she said. It wasn't beauty that marked me though, but something else. Something that would draw trouble toward me like a magnet when the time came.
As the sun sank, Greenling hara came to drink at the bar. Sultry and rather unsociable creatures, festooned with decoration; heavy earrings, thick bangles laced with spikes and chains. Seel and Cal and I sat apart in a corner. Tomorrow we would part and there was little conversation between us. Cal reached out and curled his fingers round Seel's arm where it lay on the wet tabletop. "Stay with us tonight," he said. He kicked me on the ankle, sharply, pressing me to silence. Seel said nothing to Cal but turned to look at me. I briefly touched their hands where they lay.
"We both want you to," I said, not really sure if that was true. I still had fears of showing myself up. Cal and Flick were the only ones I had taken aruna with. But I need not have worried. Seel wanted us to remember him. It was the only way to say farewell.
It was decided we would travel south, back into the Desert. Out there, hidden in the dreary scrub, bleak dunes and rocky terraces dwelt the Wraeththu who could take me to Brynie. The desert people: Kakkahaar. I had been told of their cautious instincts, their preferred solitude. It would not be easy to find them, even less so to enlist their help.
Once again, Cal and I had to stock up on supplies and Seel advised us to purchase things that the Kakkahaar might find appealing. Runes, incense and colored scrying beads from a Wraeththu shop in Greenling center. We also bought weapons, long knives that were expensive but essential, from a surly, lank-haired man in a cluttered shop reeking of human sweat. Afterwards, we loitered round Feeny's till noon, drinking sour coffee at the bar and laughing at our occult purchases. But our humor was underscored by sorrow. That afternoon, we would make the final break with Saltrock and sanctuary. I think in our hearts, both Cal and I longed to say, "Damn it, Seel, we're coming back with you." But to do that would have been to go against destiny. There was no way back; for me especially, and Seel, beautiful See], who in times to come became a great leader, a tactful and trustworthy politician, his future too would have been spoiled had we returned to Saltrock. It is also true that someone else was marked for death that day.
When the bar began to fill with lunchtime patrons, both human and Wraeththu, Cal and I prepared ourselves to leave. Outside, we blinked in the brilliant sunlight. Red and the other horse, Splice, were already loaded up and waiting, sleepily kicking the dust.
"Greenling might be the last peaceful place you'll visit," Seel said, musing aloud. Leather creaked in the hot sun and we gathered up our reins.
"Goodbye Seel." I reached for his hand. Splice's head went up, ears flattened, as Cal made him prance into life.
"Come on, Pell!" he said irritably, and his horse sprang forward, halfway up the road in seconds. I looked at Seel but he shook his head.
"It's alright. Go on."
And so we left him, Cal galloping Splice into a lather, an expression like fury on his face.
Two miles into the desert's perimeter, a jeep screamed out of a dust cloud and swung to a halt beside us. Red stood stock still, ears pricked, muscles tensed, while Splice made a scene, sidestepping, half-rearing. Someone jumped out of the driving seat, leaving the engine running. It was Kate.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Cal exploded at her, attempting not too successfully to get Splice under control. Kate came straight to me
"Pell, I'm sorry, I meant to catch you earlier. I went to Feeny's but you were gone. I've got something for you."
She pointed to the jeep and I followed her over to it. "Here," she said. "Guns." She was smiling up at me with that deceptively innocent expression, holding out the weapons.
"Where did you get them?" I had never handled a gun before, but I knew weapons were probably the only thing that would ensure our survival, and bullets were more effective than blades.
"My father," she explained. "He deals with many things. He'll probably miss them, but what the hell. It'll be too late then."
Cal snatched the other gun from her hands, weighing it up, gazing over the barrel. Kate frowned at him, not really understanding his ignorance. She handed me a peeling box of ammunition.
"Don't mind him," I said, nodding at Cal. "Thanks anyway. How much do you want for them?" She laughed. "What? Oh, nothing, nothing."
"We'll think of you, then, when we're fighting for our lives," I joked and she nodded. "Till we meet again," she said, swinging back up into the jeep, "and I'm sure we will." "I fucking hope not!" Cal replied, thankfully drowned out by the roaring engine.
As we rode away, he said to me, "Don't be like Seel. Don't bother with men and their bitches. Remember, they'd kill us all if they could."
"I'll remember that with the first bullet I fire," I answered. Cal gave me a sour look but said nothing.
It seemed we traveled in circles. The ground underfoot was too stony for us to go faster than a walk and the landscape so monotonous, it was difficult to tell which way we were going. I thought of Saltrock, where everyone would be sitting down to eat after a day's work. Cal and I did not feel hungry and certainly did not feel inclined to stop and make camp. We would have felt vulnerable and unsheltered trying to rest out in the open. The light had gone from the sky by the time we found a tall, stark rock poking without welcome from the dry stones. Grumbling and unhappy, we tried to make ourselves comfortable beneath it. I felt guilty. If I had not been so insistent about the Kakkahaar, we could have traveled east, where there were other Wraeththu settlements, though small and of low caste. I had discovered that the majority of Wraeththu rarely passed to a higher level than Acantha, which is the first of Ulani. I could not progress without the aid of adepts, the knowledge-seekers. In a fit of self-pity, I started apologizing to Cal. It was my fault. We could have stayed in Saltrock for longer. The desert might starve us to death. Something of the old Cal broke through his reserves of grief at leaving Seel and the miseries of our position. He held me to him.
"Oh
, Pell. Don't ever think me selfish. Never. I knew the moment I saw you, you were special. Brynie you shall have to be, and more. Tomorrow we shall set out and find the Kakkahaar. Without fail!"
It took slightly longer than that, however. We wandered about aimlessly for three days, eyeing our dwindling water with concern. The only pool we had found had been in the process of dissolving the carcass of an unspecified animal. Large, scraggy birds trailed us hopefully; flies appeared from nowhere, clustering like grapes around the animals' eyes, leaving unbearably irritating bites on our faces, hands and ankles. We were so dejected, we did not even notice the Kakkahaar had been trailing us along with the birds for about forty-eight hours. They made their presence known in the late afternoon of the third day.
CHAPTER FIVE
The inverted pentagram
They rose up out of the sand, unfolding like dune snakes ready to strike. Faceless, hooded, motionless. Cal drew Splice up sharply, biting his lip. He had no experience of the Kakkahaar and was unsure what our reception would be like. I was feeling dizzy with heat-sickness and in no mood to put up with any ritual feinting. Something made me draw Orien's talisman out of my shirt. I lifted its leather thong over my head and held it up for all to see, urging Red forward at a walk at the same time. The nearest figure strode toward me, his robe blowing all about him, the color of the desert.