The Wraeththu Chronicles (87 page)

known.

When we walked into Forever, through the great front doors, Cobweb had been waiting for us, standing on the stairs alone, a slim and tragic figure. His hair had grown; he seemed robed in hair. I had feared the house would look different, but it didn't. Perhaps a little smaller, but then I'd grown so much. Once I'd been a child in this place, in this hallway sat with Leef on the stairs at Festival, put that fateful note about Gahrazel into the messenger's bag, danced in the dust and the sunlight on my way to morning classes with Moswell. It all seemed so inconceivably long ago.

I felt huge and awkward standing there now, all in leather, weapons at my hip, my hair shaved at the sides like Gelaming hair, smoking a black cigarette because I was nervous. Cobweb had looked at me. He recognized me instantly even though I knew I'd changed almost beyond recognition. I saw the muscles along his jaw ripple. Perhaps he saw something of Terzian in me then. But, hiding whatever emotions must have shaken him, he fell into his role of perfect host immediately, prepared to save all the questions until later; this was the role Terzian had given him. I was Terzian's son and because of that, Cobweb would not question my judgment about whom I brought into the house. My father was not with us; Forever was mine now. Cobweb ordered refreshment and ushered us into the drawing room.

I had Seel, Ashmael, Arahal and about five others with me. Everyone else had been taken to Galhea by Ithiel, whom I'd instructed to find accommodation for them in the virtually empty army quarters. Like Cobweb, Ithiel did not question my orders, but his eyes were very cold. He did not approve of accommodating the Gelaming in Varrish barracks. I invited him to join us as soon as possible and he smiled grimly. I suppose it was absurd of me to invite him to the place he had probably been using as home for God knows how long.

Cobweb had embraced me briefly and scanned Seel with a chilling glance. Seel was hanging onto my arm, occasionally resting his head on my shoulder. I could feel him shaking. "I'm going to have to lie down," he said. "Otherwise I might embarrass you and fall down."

Cobweb sniffed and summoned one of the house-hara with a click of his fingers. "We shall find accommodation for your friend," he said. "Is he ill? Would you like me to send for Phlaar?"

"Yes, if you could," I said. "I should have introduced you two before. Cobweb, this is Seel. Get someone to show him to my room."

"Ty sleeps in there now," Cobweb replied coldly. "My father's room then," I said irritably.

Cobweb raised his eyebrows and stared at me stonily. "It isn't aired. No-one's been in there for ages."

"That doesn't matter. Have someone light a fire in there."

"As you wish, Swift." He turned to the house-har. "My son will be staying in Terzian's room. Have it prepared and escort Tiahaar Seel to it." He made it sound as if we wouldn't be staying there long. I hadn't wanted it to be like that, but Cobweb just made it that way. Full of Varrish jealousy; another thing that now felt strange to me. "You've changed," he said, once Seel had left us. "Of course I have!"

"That har is carrying your pearl, isn't he?"

"Yes. Still impossible to hide things from you, isn't it?" I said with a hopeful smile. Cobweb did not return it.

"Where's your father, Swift?"

I looked away. "Not now, Cobweb. Please. Questions later."

He snorted angrily and swept away, grinning ferally at Arahal as he passed him. Arahal sauntered over to me, bemused. "An amazing creature!" he exclaimed. "The stuff of legend!"

"Amazing, yes. Creature, yes," I agreed. "Arahal, you will have to tell him about Terzian. If you won't tell me, then at least tell Cobweb. I'll gel no peace otherwise."

Arahal looked uncomfortable. "All shall be revealed when the time is right," he said edgily.

I went to Seel in my father's room. It smelled a little musty in there, but there was a welcome fire in the grate, which had already taken any chill off the air. The canopied bed looked ancient and uncomfortable; I hoped it wasn't too damp. Phlaar was washing his hands at the sink, behind a screen.

"Seel, are you alright?" I asked. He was lying, half-clothed, on top of the bed. His face and hair looked damp. He smiled weakly. "Apparently, my energy is drained," he said.

"Will he be alright?" I asked Phlaar, who was watching us carefully, drying his hands.

"The journey here has taken too much out of him," Phlaar answered. "The pearl drains his energy enough as it is. It was foolish of you to travel this far in this condition!" Seel turned his head away from Phlaar's reproach. "You need utter rest and quiet," Phlaar continued.

"Like hell!" Seel snapped. "I need an infusion of strength, that's all. Tell Ashmael, Swift; he can do it."

Phlaar cleared his throat. "Well, as you don't appear to be needing my services any longer ..." He moved toward the door. I thanked him and he smiled thinly. Later, he would tell his friends about Gelaming conceit.

Seel made a derisive sound. "Varrs!" he said. "They know nothing!"

"And you, being Gelaming, know everything of course!" I could never be angry with him. He held out his hand and I took it in my own.

"I'm sorry, Swift. I don't seem to have any control over my mouth nowadays."

I sat on the bed and took him in my arms. "It doesn't matter." Seel laughed against my chest. My hands couldn't keep from straying over his skin; he was so touchable. "Did that monster downstairs really host you?" he asked.

Living among the Gelaming, I hadn't really noticed myself changing that much, but now I was home, every mirror seemed to scream my difference at me, and every eye I'd known had become a mirror. I don't think Tyson recognized me at all. The last time I had seen him he had been such a baby; now he was a willowy harling with Cal's haunted, bony face and a glistening mop of fair hair. I could see a hint of Terzian in his eyes for they could turn very hard on you, but his spirit seemed wholly Cal's, unearthly and wild. He greeted me with reservation; we did not embrace. All he said was, You've been gone so long." Two springs had passed in Galhea since I had last been there.

Alter my walk in the garden with Cobweb that first evening, I went to my father's study. It looked uncomfortably tidy; Ithiel had been using it. On the desk I discovered balance sheets for crops and supplies, with heavy pencil marks scored across them in places. I sat down in my father's chair and leaned back, gazing out of

the window. It felt as if I had never left Forever. It felt as if Cal was in the house and we were still waiting for news of my father. Perhaps tomorrow the Zigane would come . . . Cobweb had asked me about Terzian many times that day.

I found myself wondering how much my hostling actually knew about Terzian. I didn't think he was aware of exactly what had happened to Gahrazel, nor how close Terzian's relationship with Ponclast now seemed to be. How could I answer his questions without telling him what I knew? How could I stand there and say, 'That har you loved, would give your life for, is a monster'? And yet, surely Cobweb would have known those things. Didn't he know everything about those he loved? Weren't all our minds open books to him that he could learn from whenever he cared to look? I did not want to talk about Terzian because it caused me pain. It was something I wanted to forget. He would hate me if he knew, he would call me a traitor. Could he then stand by and countenance what happened to Gahrazel happening to me? I shuddered.

Outside, the evening was fading into a red and purple sky, bare trees stark against the color. Inside, warmth crept through the long corridors from well-tended fires, there was a sound of footsteps, the smell of cooking. I love this place. I was glad my father had gone from it.

I had learned from Cobweb that the Zigane had stayed in Galhea only until the autumn of that year. It was clear that Tel-an-Kaa had been a great comfort to Cobweb when Cal, Leef and I had first left Forever. Her optimism for my future, indeed for all our futures, had never been shaken. When Cobweb feared for my life, she would calmly argue against his fears. I knew that he was sorry when she left. She had given no reason for going. Perhaps her master summoned her, another errand waiting, another message to deliver.

"I think there must be a lot of female in me," Cobweb said to me, seriously. "For I could understand that woman. When she left, I was not surprised."

"There is a lot of female in you, Cobweb," I agreed, hiding my smile.

He shrugged. "My fault, I suppose; laziness. Are women indolent, do you think?"

"No. I think it is more lazy to be predominantly male, but that is only my opinion, of course."

Bryony was the only person in the house not too wary of me to come and throw her arms about me. "Welcome, Swift, welcome back," she said.I had gone to the kitchens as soon as I was able, again trepidly and a little nervous of what I would find. It twisted my heart with nostalgia to see the place. The worn table, the shining expanse of sink, the archaic stove covered in huge cauldrons of bubbling, aromatic Yarrow creations. He was still the same, strings of hair everywhere. We all drank a bottle of sheh together and I talked, with drunken enthusiasm, about my adventures. Strangely, it no longer seemed real. I found I was reluctant to speak about Seel, but Bryony had already heard about him and was armed with questions. Rather than answer them, I promised to take her to meet him in the morning. Bryony, no longer a girl, but now a strong, lean woman. Out of all the people I had known before, she had changed the most. She was human, she was older.

I slept with Seel in my father's bed; the room was free of ghosts. Lying in the dark, I searched the ceiling, trying to locate that spot where someone crouching in the room above could see in. I suppressed a shiver, thinking of Gahrazel. Was he still up there? Seel stirred in his sleep. I wanted to talk to him. I put my mouth against his hair. He twitched his face and mumbled some nonsense. I stared into the shadows, listening for smothered breathing, anything. All I could hear was Seel. I did not wake him.

Apart from the natural destruction of the summerhouse, it seemed time had not touched Forever. Perhaps it was the name that protected it: We dwell in Forever; dissolution could not mark it. My father's presence, even my own, had not been missed by the house. Only when within its walls did hara exist for it. Outside was death; I had grown up with this notion. I was anxious to establish some kind of rapport with Tyson,

but he appeared to have little interest in me. As a child, I too had been content to experience only my own little world and had resented anyone trying to enter it with me. My brother resembled me in many ways and he clearly looked upon Cobweb as his hostling. He never asked any questions about Cal. That was how we differed; I had always been full of questions. Seel remarked on the fact that Tyson reminded him of Cal. One day, my little brother would learn how to touch souls and break hearts. Already his eyes hinted at the knowledge of it.

The Varrs warily accepted the presence of Gelaming within their town. Over the months, they had isolated themselves from their brothers in the north, being concerned only with their own survival, bread upon their tables, and disregarding the concept of the War. Most of the soldiers had gone south with Terzian anyway. Now Ithiel found his time filled with the problems of administration, delivering justice upon petty squabbles and organizing the way our land was utilized. Strangers in our fields now meant extra mouths to feed that were not welcome, no longer a threat in quite the same way that they had been before. I was surprised that after the Zigane had left Galhea, other bands of humans had passed through. Some of them, bearing provisions, hardware or skills that were useful to the Varrs had been persuaded to remain in the town and had taken over empty houses in the southern quarter. The army had once lived there and it was now three-quarters empty. Human children and harlings played together in the gaunt buildings, where once a throng of polished horses had stamped restlessly, awaiting their masters' hands, awaiting a journey south. None of them had yet returned. It was accepted among the hara that they never might.

One afternoon, after we had been in Galhea for just over a week, I took Seel on a tour of the gardens. Life was stirring. Overnight, bare trees had become garlanded with a green mist of young leaves. I took him to the lake and he made me tell him again the story of Cal, Cobweb and the summer-house. While I spoke, the summerhouse seemed to watch me mournfully from across the lake, perhaps remembering too.

Seel stared at the water thoughtfully. "Did that really happen here?" he said aloud.

I looked around me. "It is the setting, certainly . . . but it does feel different."

We went to investigate the fallen stones where I had found Cal. They were now nearly hidden beneath a growth of ivy (how relevant). I could remember the smells and the sounds and the feel of Cal's arm around me; that first magic taste of another har's breath. I looked at Seel putting his hand against the stone, touching the moss and the leaves, and I felt as if I'd somehow missed half my life, as if that day of the storm and Cobweb's rage had only been a short time ago, and suddenly I was here again, full-grown, with a har who was remarkable in every way and had never known me untouched and shivering. What had happened to me? I felt disorientated, removed from reality. I sat down. Seel came to my side, smiling, pushing back that wondrous hair.

"Ah, time," he said, sighing. "When tomorrow comes, it often feels like there's never been a yesterday."