storm (78 page)

            Pellaz was jolted back into the present by the arrival of Tel-an-Kaa at the site. She gave him a smile that was full of kindness and understanding.  Her being was geared towards soume far more than hara like Ashmael and Tharmifex could ever even imagine.  Pellaz was sure she picked up on some of his confusion, and understood only too well its cause.  He wondered how she would feel having to view the intimate procedure of Grissecon.  The Kamagrian were far more private about aruna than Wraeththu were.

            Ten minutes before the opening ceremony was about to begin, Lianvis approached Pellaz and Galdra, carrying two small pottery flasks.  “Pellaz, you look tense,” he said.

            “I'm fine,” Pellaz said, but he could tell from Lianvis' expression that the Kakkahaar could see right through him.

            Lianvis held out the flasks.  “This is a Kakkahaar narcotic,” he said.  “We use it often for Grissecon.  Drink it and I promise you that you'll forget about the rest of us in seconds!”

            Pellaz drank it gratefully, only the desire for oblivion giving him the strength of stomach not to vomit it back up immediately.

            Galdra took his share and grimaced.  “You make this from ground-up corpses, don't you!” he said, handing his flask back to Lianvis.

            “Only human ones,” Lianvis answered, deadpan.

            Pellaz couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Galdra's face.  “He's joking,” Pellaz said.  Then paused.  “You
are
joking, aren't you, Lianvis?”

            The Kakkahaar smiled.  “Relax; let it do its work.”

            After only a few minutes, a tide of tranquil well-being coursed through Pell's mind and body.  He was hardly conscious of anyhar but Galdra and himself.  Lianvis' potion had smothered all the hot, itchy and uncomfortable feelings in Pell's heart.  All he wanted to do now was go back to the new realm he had discovered.  He was no longer remotely self-conscious.

            The Kakkahaar uttered the final invocations to create the ritual space, and Lianvis gestured for Pellaz and Galdra to come forward into the centre of the circle.  Pellaz took off his cloak and handed it to Herien, as did Galdra.  Pellaz could feel how chill the night air was, yet it was not uncomfortable.  His body was hot.  He and Galdra went to the centre and sat cross-legged opposite each other.  They joined hands and concentrated on connecting their natural energy.  The circle of witnesses chanted softly and rhythmically and Pellaz could feel the vibration of it swirling round them, enclosing them in a cone of power.  The witnesses were no longer separate individuals, but simply a shield of protection.

            Through intention alone, Pellaz made himself soume and Galdra made himself ouana.  When they were ready, Pellaz lowered himself into Galdra's lap.  Galdra felt icy inside him, burning with a cold fire.  He opened the soume energy centres one by one: it was almost effortless.  When the sixth opened, Pellaz was filled with the vision of an iris-like door spinning open, and he was sucked right through it.  This time, he made sure to hook his will around Galdra's essence and drag him with him.

           
Stay with me!
he hissed in Galdra's mind. 
Don't wander.

           
It was not a place of darkness.  Pellaz found himself in a temple of radiance.  He realised Galdra was within him.  They were sharing an etheric body.

           
What is this place?
Galdra asked.

           
I don't know.  It's different.  It's supposed to be the cauldron of creation.  Lileem said I should call upon a dehar, and my instinct would be to call for Aruhani or Agave, as Ash suggested.  But this is not a temple to either of them.  It's more like Miyacala's.

            Then change it.

            Or maybe I should call on Miyacala.

           
They were surrounded by impossibly tall columns of a glittering crystalline substance that pulsed with rings of energy.  Ahead, was a vague suggestion of a flight of steps, although it was difficult to perceive things properly.  Pellaz walked towards the steps and it seemed to take an eternity to reach them.  He formed the shape of Miyacala's name in his mind and then the steps zoomed towards him, gathered him up, and he was running up them, into another eternity.

           
You were right,
Galdra said.

            At the top of the steps was a platform, in the centre of which was a tall golden tripod.  Steam or incense curled up from the shallow dish it supported.  The floor appeared to be constructed of opal tiles.  Shuddering drapes framed the platform, hiding whatever lay beyond it from view.

            Pellaz stood before the tripod and raised his arms. 
I call upon the dehar, Miyacala, master of initiation and of the mysteries.  Miyacala, I command you to come to us now!  Bring us the light of your knowledge.  Astale Miyacala!  Extend your hand.  Astale!

           
An intense white flame spurted up from the golden bowl, then subsided.  Once it had died down, Pellaz saw a tall form standing opposite him on the other side of the tripod.  His long platinum hair hung around him like a cloak.  His eyes were white orbs, but a star blazed upon his forehead.  He raised his left hand and a star blazed there also.

           
Greetings, Miyacala.
 Pellaz bowed to the dehar respectfully.

           
Greetings to you, Pellaz har Aralis and to you also, Galdra har Freyhella.  You are welcome in the Nayati of Initiation.  You are expected here.

            Are you akin to the sedim, Miyacala?
 Now, Pellaz and Galdra spoke with one voice.  There was no division between them.

           
No, the dehara are of Wraeththu.  We are yours and you are ours, yet there is no ownership.  We are not of the powers beyond.  We are your ultimate potential, for you created us.

            We have need of your brethren, Aruhani and Agave.

            They are aware of this need.  They await your word, once you pass beyond this threshold.  You need all of us.  We are all soume, we are all ouana.  We are warriors and mystics.  We are seers and kings.  We are healers and assassins.  Lunil of the blue fire wields the power of the lunar sphere of every realm.  Aruhani is the destroyer and the creator.  Agave is the flame of many suns.  I am the light of knowledge, the truth of all matters, before which hara of unlighted minds would lose their sanity.

            Will you grant us initiation, Miyacala?

            That is my function in this instance. 
The dehar reached into one of his sleeves and drew forth a crystal blade that danced with sparks of light. 
Come to me.  A new inception.

           
Miyacala extended his left arm, pulling back the sleeve of his robe, and cut himself with the blade.  Pellaz approached the dehar, who was several feet taller than he was.  A milky, glowing substance dripped from the wound in Miyacala's arm.  To Pellaz, it appeared much like the combined essence of two hara after aruna.  He held out his arm.  Miyacala took it and drew the blade down the inner forearm.  Its touch was incredibly cold, as Galdra's ouana-lim had felt earlier, but it did not hurt.  Shockingly red blood sprang from the cut, and splashed down upon the opaline floor.  Miyacala took Pell's arm and pressed the wounds together.  Pellaz could feel the glacier burn of the dehar's essence pouring into him.  He could feel it transforming him.

            Then he was rushing through a vortex, bodiless, no more than a ball of energy.  Impossible scenes flashed past: cyclopean cities of obsidian stone, impenetrable abysses, endless oceans of liquid metal.  Pellaz wanted to cry out in stark terror but had no voice.  He knew these sights.  He had seen them before, at the time when his first physical body had died and his soul had been sucked through the ethers at Thiede's command.

           
Don't be afraid.

           
Galdra's presence.

           
I am dead.

            We are not.  Ride it, Pellaz.  Make it yours.  Follow me.

            I will.

           
Galdra looked deep into the magical myths of his hara and plucked from them an image he liked.  Now, they were a winged being, soaring between immense cliffs.  Their wings beat monstrously, slowly, with great power.  Pellaz had never felt such a sense of freedom and strength.  They had no arms, only batlike wings, but long legs they held out behind them, which terminated in birdlike claws rather than feet.  They had a tail, like a lion's.  They flew towards a golden light, which as they drew nearer, illuminated a landscape of marvellous beauty.  In some ways it was stark, just barren black rocks and cliffs, but the pure buttery radiance transformed it.  There was a huge stepped pyramid ahead of them and they alighted on the platform at its summit.

            In the centre of the platform was a square opening in the floor, where steps could be seen leading downward.  Pellaz and Galdra began to descend them.  The walls on either side of them were veined with searing gouts of dark red light.  The air was warm and smelled of cloves and frankincense.  They had entered the temple of Aruhani.

            The dehar awaited them in a garden at the bottom of the steps.  Impossibly, it was open to the air, even though it was in the centre of the pyramid.  Pellaz had never beheld, even in his wildest visualizations, so strange a garden.  The plants were of the darkest hues: indigo, black and crimson.  Fleshy flowers, the size of cartwheels, exuded a perfume of jasmine and rot.  Thorned vines snaked across the black earth beneath their feet, writhing like serpents.

            Aruhani sat cross-legged upon an alter of jet.  He was of normal harish size: a beautiful creature with black skin, whose only garment was his abundant braided hair that covered him like a shawl.  The soles of his feet were dyed red with ochre.  He did not speak, but held Pellaz with a smoking gaze.  Pellaz was silenced in the dehar's presence.  His power was primal, far more unnerving than Miyacala's.  Where Miyacala was thought and knowledge, Aruhani was pure feeling and instinct.  He was the harish equivalent of the darkest of the mother goddesses of ancient human cultures.  As Pellaz watched, Aruhani uncrossed his legs.  Multicoloured vapour steamed out of his soume-lam.  In this way, he gave birth to his brothers, Lunil and Agave, who took on solid form and stood beside the alter, the dehara of blue and red fire.

           
We are with you...

           
Pellaz had no time to commune properly with these incredible beings, for the scene exploded before his eyes, shards of colour flying past and through him.  In moments, he was back in the real world, shaking against Galdra's chest, sweat pouring off him, his head aching like a cauldron of destruction never mind creation.

            Lianvis came forward with Herien, both carrying cloaks, which they draped around the bodies of Pellaz and Galdra.  Pellaz lifted his head to thank them, but the words were silenced in his throat.

            Beyond the circle of hara, Pellaz saw immense shadowy forms.  Fifteen feet high, their arms crossed over their breasts, but carrying weapons of war: dehara.  More than four, a myriad.  Galdra saw them too, Pellaz could tell.  The witnesses stood with closed eyes, perhaps still lost in the last wisps of visualization, perhaps as a mark of respect for those who had conducted the Grissecon.  It seemed they did not perceive the incredible throng around them.