Burying the Shadow (60 page)

‘Depending on
the outcome of Sammael’s strategy, naturally... However, supposing
the outcome is auspicious: I know what you did to Amelakiveh, and I
suspect you have something similar in mind for your soulscaper, if
she’s agreeable.’ He raised his brows. ‘Haven’t you?’

‘You are
impertinent!’ I snapped. Beth must have told him about Amelakiveh.
The boy’s transmutation was at best an indiscretion, at worst a
heresy. He was supposed to have been a holy sacrifice, after all.
Instead of suffering the sacred death, for which he had been
raised, we had prolonged his lifespan instead and taken him into
our home like a pet. We had transgressed on two counts:
unauthorised transmutation and abuse of a revered ceremony. Still,
I could not believe our actions were unique. Other delectable
patron children, offered in holy sacrifice, must have been the
subjects of similar transgressions over the years. Who knew what
went on in the highest rooms of the atelier courts? Oddly enough, I
had never considered introducing Rayojini to the benefits of an
intimate friendship with Beth and myself. My interest in her had
always been something out of the ordinary, something which
transcended desire and gratification; a feeling I hoped was
reciprocated. However, Avirzah’e’s suggestion did deserve
consideration, if only because it might solve any problems
concerning eloim security. Could Sammael object to Rayojini’s
presence in our life if she was allowed the transmutation and
absorbed into our community like Ramiz and Tamaris? Unfortunately,
I did not know, and could not guess, how Rayojini might react if I
revealed my true nature to her. She was such an independent
creature; it was likely she’d furiously resent the way in which
she’d been manipulated over the years. Telling her the truth might
estrange her from me completely. As a human needing sustenance, the
Parzupheim - who alone could grant valid permission for her change
- would expect her to remain in Sacramante, which I knew would go
against her roaming instincts. Unless, of course, I went travelling
with her myself. As I thought about it, the idea became more
attractive. Yet another of Avirzah’e’s insidiously seductive
suggestions.

He had given
me a couple of moments to mull over his words. ‘I do not wish to
sound impertinent,’ he said. ‘Please believe that your contentment
and security are foremost in my mind.’

Beth, sitting
on the floor at my feet, reached out to touch my skirts. ‘I am
agreeable if you are,’ he said.

I sighed. ‘Oh
very well! Find Rayojini and speak to her, Avirzah’e. Do what you
can.’

He held out
his hand to me. ‘Sister,’ he said.

I leaned
forward and curled my fingers around his. ‘I cannot call you
brother, Avirzah’e,’ I said. ‘It is too... unlikely.’ There was a
moment’s silence.

‘The message
you sent me,’ Beth said, as if he had only just remembered it.
‘What did it mean?’ I realised he had been waiting for this moment
since I’d walked in.

Avirzah’e was still
holding my hand. I was afraid he would simply melt into me, if I
spoke plainly. I pulled away from him. At that moment, of course,
he knew.

‘Sammael
taught me many things,’ I said. ‘He spoke to me about - and
demonstrated too - the suppressed nature of eloim in this world.
Since this education, I have been forced to change my opinion
about... certain things, that’s all.’

‘The mutual
sup?’ Avirzah’e said carefully.

I shrugged.
‘We spoke of that, yes, and I now believe it is something we should
consider for the future. It could only improve our relationship
with humanity, if we still need to share their world.’ I was
beginning to feel slightly disorientated and breathless.

‘And what
else?’ Avirzah’e asked. This was just what he enjoyed most; a game
of words. I wanted to be calm, objective and frank; it was
impossible. My eyes skittered away from Beth and Avirzah’e’s
attentive stares.

‘You conjoined
with him!’ Beth exclaimed bluntly. ‘You did, didn’t you! After all
you said!’

‘Do not look
at me like that,’ I replied. ‘You went your own way, impetuously,
without me.’

‘With a
stranger, though! Gimel, how could you!’

I felt
absurdly unfaithful. ‘You should have been more patient,’ I said
defensively. ‘Anyway, Sammael can hardly be termed a stranger. He
is father to us all, in a way.’

Beth shook his
head. ‘I should have been with you,’ he said.

‘But you
weren’t! Did you worry about my absence when you conjoined with
Avirzah’e? No!’ I hesitated. ‘You have conjoined, haven’t you?’

Avirzah’e
laughed. ‘I wish you could hear yourself, Gimel!’ He mimicked my
voice. ‘I’ve done it, have you?’

‘Stop it!’ I
said.

Avirzah’e
shrugged. ‘Well, it is hardly a subject to be coy about.’ He lay
back luxuriously on his cushions, gazing at me through slitted
eyes. I felt as if I was simply a character in one of his plays.
‘Yes, Beth and I conjoined,’ he said, and pointed lazily to the
observatory. ‘Up there, among the stars. We became at one with the
past, and with the future. Now, we are at peace within
ourselves.’

His smug
expression made me angry; enviously angry. He and Beth must have
fondness for each other; therefore their conjunction had involved
more than simple experience. It must have been a journey, a
wondrous adventure, a shared instant of life. Conjunction with
Sammael, for all its wild intensity, had not been like that for me.
I had not become light beneath the stars with a lover. Avirzah’e
had stolen that experience from me, and part of me would grieve its
loss forever. In my ignorance, I had never imagined that anybody
could come between Beth and myself. I had been unprepared for it,
although I knew Avirzah’e would have been quite happy to pair with
me instead of Beth, if I had been the willing party. I had a choice
now. I could view him as an adversary or as a potential partner; it
was entirely my decision. Avirzah’e would accept either role
without overt complaint. But whatever I decided, Beth would still
be his. My pride wanted me to walk out of there and leave them to
it, but my heart spoke otherwise. I knew Avirzah’e wouldn’t make
this easy for me. He was a proud creature himself. Beth was simply
a malleable reed bending between two strong currents; I could
expect no useful support from him. The situation would require some
thought. I remembered my father’s words and vowed to make no rash
decision.

‘The journey
has tired me,’ I said into the silence, and stood up. ‘I need to
return home and refresh myself.’

‘Gimel,’
Avirzah’e said, not moving. ‘Have you learned nothing?’

I stared down at him.
He was utterly relaxed, stroking his throat. His shirt was hanging
open. I could see the mark upon his chest. His fingers strayed to
the wound and scratched its surface. The room filled with the
perfume of his blood, the less definable perfume of his willingness
to submit, and my mouth instinctively filled with fluid. I could
feel the hunger frenzy within me waiting, just waiting, to be
released. My decision. I could still walk out of here.

Avirzah’e
undermined my resolution. ‘If you are hungry,’ he said, ‘let me
nourish you. Feed, Gimel. Finish this education Lord Sammael began
for you. Isn’t it the real reason you came here?’

The room swam
before my eyes, and I had to sit down again quickly. I felt as if I
was about to faint, and my stomach had begun to contract painfully
in time to the rhythm of my heart.

‘Gimel,’ Beth
said and slipped his hands into my own. ‘You are cold.’ We looked
at each other for a few long moments, and I could see he understood
how I felt. If I wanted to leave, he would take me home. There was
no compulsion on his part. I squeezed his hands with numb
flesh.

‘Show me,’ I
said slowly. ‘I have to see it.’

He let go of
my hands. I knew he was not hungry. I knew he had recently supped,
but for my benefit, Beth pulled Avirzah’e’s shirt down past his
shoulders and kissed a small mouthful of ichor from the wound on
his chest. I had expected to feel as if I was witnessing an
obscenity, something unnatural, but the sight of eloim feeding from
eloim seemed bizarrely mundane. It was as if a memory had
resurfaced in my mind; a remembered instinct. Beth wiped his mouth
and looked at me inquiringly. The hunger had quietened within me.
No urgency now, but a gentle need to taste. I kneeled down upon the
floor and allowed Avirzah’e to pull me against his body. I felt
like a human infant being pulled to its mother’s breast; mindlessly
seeking the teat, smelling out the place where the skin was broken.
His arms tightened around me, and I heard him gasp as I began to
suck. The taste was intoxicating, so different from the thick,
sweet fluid of the human body. I had an urge, almost, to suck him
dry. His spine arched at the moment when pleasure became pain. I
was virtually delirious when Beth wound his hand in my hair and
pulled me away. I gasped like a swimmer who has been underwater too
long, whose instinct is to try and breathe fluid. Air tasted raw
and gritty in my throat. I clawed and snarled; a feral thing pulled
away from her prey. My chin, my throat, the front of my gown was
spotted with Avirzah’e’s blood. He lay beneath me, panting, perhaps
dazed. Fiercely, I fought my way out of Beth’s hold, who cried out
when I threw myself on Avirzah’e again. There was no need for him
to worry. It was the mouth I sought. The kiss. The kiss. Avirzah’e
weakly wrapped his arms around me. I wept into his hair.

Gimel

‘…
that I who erst
contended with gods… am now constrained into a beast…’

Paradise Lost,
Book IX

Sammael was sitting in
my salon when I returned home. He had taken a pile of my books from
the shelf and was looking through them. I was not happy to find him
there, feeling distinctly shaken and dishevelled after my visit to
the Tartaruchi stronghold. I had not conjoined with Beth or
Avirzah’e, but the supping had become mutual and had culminated in
a rather abandoned session of fleshly pleasures. I was astounded at
myself, and needed time to reflect.

Sammael smiled
sweetly when he saw me and made no remark on my appearance. ‘Gimel,
I have come here for privacy,’ he said. ‘I hope you don’t
mind.’

‘Not at all,’
I replied. ‘Treat my home as if it were your own.’ Tamaris had
followed me into the room to fuss about me and I sent her off to
prepare my bath. I sank wearily onto one of the couches, short of
breath.

‘I will have
to prepare myself,’ Sammael said.

‘For what?’ I
scratched at my head; my scalp felt gritty.

‘Gimel, I am
going to remember my true form. Whatever has come from Elenoen will
undoubtedly to be attracted to me if I resume a more spiritual
contour. It is the only way.’ He paused. ‘Have you a place where I
will not be disturbed for a few days? It might take some time for
me to accomplish the transformation. I have been in this body for
so long.’

‘Of course,’ I
said. ‘There is a room I use for projection, at the top of the
house. It should be ideal for your purposes.’ In the wake of recent
events, I found it hard to concentrate on the grave difficulties
facing our race. The taste of, and my need for, Avirzah’e’s blood
was more real to me. All I wanted to do was relax into my bath and
relive everything I had experienced in the Tartaruchi stronghold.
Sammael looked vaguely irritated, sensing he did not have my
attention. I was being very selfish. Sammael was not as confident
as he sounded. He needed to talk to me. ‘Are you strong enough?’ I
asked him. ‘Remember you haven’t been out of your tower for very
long, and the journey to the Strangeling was exhausting. Perhaps
you should wait.’

He shook his
head. ‘Impossible. Now I know that Elenoen has intruded upon this
world, I shall have to deal with it immediately. Anything could
have been sent through. Anything.’

‘You are
hoping it is Mikha’il, aren’t you,’ I said gently.

Sammael smiled
at me with chagrin. ‘You are perceptive.’

I leaned back
against the couch and closed my eyes. ‘No, not that. I understand
your feelings.’

‘My hope goes
beyond mere personal feelings,’ Sammael said. With my eyes closed,
no longer distracted by his physical appearance, I sensed that, if
he spoke the truth, his hope did not extend
very far
beyond
personal feeling. Why should he feel ashamed of that? If his
relationship with Mikha’il had been anything like what I had
experienced that afternoon, I understood completely why it was so
important to him.

‘You are
hoping to win him over?’ I asked. ‘Surely, for that reason, he
would not be sent here.’ I opened my eyes and sat up straight.

Sammael was
not looking at me. ‘It isn’t easy for eloim from the old world to
manifest here,’ he said. ‘It takes time. I am different from all
other eloim on Earth, as you will have noticed. I do not suffer
from the effects of time, as the ancients do. Manifestation in this
world was also far easier for me than for those that followed me.
Mikha’il has the same advantage. We are brothers, remember? I know
he will be contaminated by propaganda about me. He does not share
my independent spirit, but there is still a chance I can open his
eyes.’

‘And if you
do, what then?’ I asked. ‘What is going to happen to us afterwards?
Even if you can remove the threat from Elenoen, we still have other
problems to deal with - the rightful occupants of this world, for
example.’

He looked at
me steadily. ‘I don’t know what will happen afterwards. It’s
impossible to predict at this point... Have you decided what you’re
going to do about the soulscaper?’

A timely
change of subject. I nodded. ‘Yes. Avirzah’e Tartaruchi will deal
with the problem. You don’t have to worry.’