The Wraeththu Chronicles (90 page)

Slow, lazy beams the color of spring leaves and dawn skies rotated leisurely in the air above us. Powdery azure smoke fell to the ground. The crystal began to sing. At

first, a careless, humming sound. The beams moved slightly faster, reaching further. We joined in its song and it seemed a thousand thousand voices rose in response. I shielded my eyes; the brightness was so intense.

"Go to the citadel!" Ashmael ordered. The power needed little encouragement now. It was acting independently of him, mindless, but eager to instil its song into any mind it encountered. We were immune. We knew the song already. For a moment, the light bunched and reared into a great, spinning column, black dust rising from the earth, forming streaks within it, and then, with a great, shattering howl, the power surged toward the citadel, rolling like waves, cataracting, bounding, half-seen creatures ridingits crests. There were shapes like vast wings, long, lidless eyes and lithe, clawed fingers within it. A peal like laughter or water.

It hit the black stone with a sound like the earth splitting and a massive crack snaked sedately through the walls. I was expecting foul ichor, black blood, to come pouring out of the breach, but nothing like that happened. As the greeny-blue light of our power crawled over the walls of Fulminir, something rose up beyond it. Something sickly yellow, high into the sky. It leaned toward the light; a column of leprous, evil smoke. When it touched the spirit of the crystal, a terrible sound brought the taste of blood to our mouths.

Ashmael shouted something. His eyes were wild. Everyone was tense, staring upwards, toward Fulminir. Seel was at my side, quite calm. He said, "Ashmael will now panic." I could only stare at him in horror. In the sky above Fulminir, the light, the child of our crystal, and the oily, black smoke demon that was the child of Ponclast's sorcery were entwined in combat. Horrible, deafening scrapings and squealings ripped the air.

"It will beat us," I said. "It will beat us." I felt Seel's hand take my own. "Never. Come with me."

We stood beneath the tripod, looking up. The beam was weakening. We could see that. I was trembling. Seel put his hands on my arms and turned me to face him. His eyes were the eyes of a stranger. His hair was moving, as I had always expected it could, of its own volition.

"That is another of our children," he said, jerking his head upwards. "The child of Grissecon."

I was numb. "Don't say that... it is hurting. Oh, Seel, I can feel it!" I could. It was like being ripped apart. Seel made that happen. He made us be in tune with it. Hysteria raised my voice to a squeal. Seel shook me firmly.

"Shut up! Listen to me. We have the power; only us. Do as I say! Do you hear me?" He looked incredibly fierce; a Seel unknown to me. I nodded. "Then be naked, Swift."

"What?"

"Do it, Swift!" There was no way I could argue with him. He scared me. He was different. This was a Seel who could kill. Ashmael, wide-eyed, stared at us maniacally through the legs of the tripod. "Seel!" he shouted. "Seel! Seel!"

"It's alright." That was all he said, all he had to say. Ashmael dropped his head. My fingers fumbled with fastenings to my clothes. "Help him!" Seel ordered and hands were upon me, ripping, not bothering with fastenings. I had heard of pelki and I thought it must feel something like that. To lose control of your body. To have other people move it for you. I resisted the urge to struggle. Shivering, I was on my knees in the black earth, naked and defenseless, three hundred pairs of eyes upon me and God knows how many more beyond the walls.

Seel dragged me to him and we sat on the ground beside the tripod. His hair was across his face; I did not know him. "Trust me, Swift!" My leg was twisted beneath me. I could not move. Seel straightened it out.

"This is the most vital Grissecon either of us will ever have to perform," he said. "Do as I say. It will not be much. But concentrate!"

We sat facing each other. He arranged my limbs and pulled me onto his lap. I was not prepared; it hurt horribly. Flashes of red appeared in the light around us. Seel held me against him and I could feel his heart beating and buried my face in his hair so I could not see them watching us. But I could hear the crooning. Seel threw back his head and screamed out in a language unfamiliar to me. It was like gibberish, but I understood the meaning. He called to the crystal, ordered it to feed from us, let our strength combine with its own. Seel's fingers pressed the base of my spine and he moved within me, seeking the special places so that desire flamed inside me; I had no control over it. I was mindless, like the power, just body, just essence. The pain made it like perversion. I was making noises and when I heard them, it was as if they came from somewhere else. I opened my eyes and saw a dozen greenish fingers of light tentatively reaching down toward us from the crystal. Seel bit my ear and I winced. "Concentrate! Power!" he cried. "Power! Power!" I threw back my head, my eyes snapped open again and the radiance burned into me. I howled and felt the core of heat build up within me. I dragged it out of myself. I was rising. I was becoming stronger and stronger. Bigger; rising. We were so tall, we filled the sky. Like Gods, like angels; pure fire, nothing else. The moment came.

Deep within me, the burning serpent bit the star and with a wordless scream, a great tide of energy burst out, like an exploding sun. Around us, the Gelaming fell to the ground, hiding their faces, curled up. I was ignited again (it so rarely happens twice like that), and in a glorious blaze of light, shaped like a towering figure with wings across its face, its feet, its back, so full of light, so ultimately wondrous, the child of our essence reached out one lazy arm and touched the walls of Fulminir. Ponclast's demon seemed piteously small beside it, quivering, shrinking. I was laughing out loud, crazily. Through tears of laughter, I watched as, like powdering rock destroyed by rain, the walls of Fulminir crumbled. Great chunks of stone rolled earthwards, revealing the dank innards of the citadel, spiked towers, curving walkways and squat, blackened buildings. The citadel was wrapped in the blue-green radiance of aruna power. Frothing, fizzing, the child of the crystal jetted up into the air and exploded in a million droplets of sparkling foam, drifting downwards like bubbles, descending like sleep on the streets of Fulminir.

Seel and I shivered together, spent on the ground. The light had left us. The bowl on the tripod was empty. Someone came over and wrapped us in cloaks or blankets; something. Rain began to fall and I looked up into it, blinking.its crests. There were shapes like vast wings, long, lidless eyes and lithe, clawed fingers within it. A peal like laughter or water.

It hit the black stone with a sound like the earth splitting and a massive crack snaked sedately through the walls. I was expecting foul ichor, black blood, to come pouring out of the breach, but nothing like that happened. As the greeny-blue light of our power crawled over the walls of Fulminir, something rose up beyond it. Something sickly yellow, high into the sky. It leaned toward the light; a column of leprous, evil smoke. When it touched the spirit of the crystal, a terrible sound brought the taste of blood to our mouths.

Ashmael shouted something. His eyes were wild. Everyone was tense, staring upwards, toward Fulminir. Seel was at my side, quite calm. He said, "Ashmael will now panic." I could only stare at him in horror. In the sky above Fulminir, the light, the child of our crystal, and the oily, black smoke demon that was the child of Ponclast's sorcery were entwined in combat. Horrible, deafening scrapings and squealings ripped the air.

"It will beat us," I said. "It will beat us."

I felt Seel's hand take my own. "Never. Come with me."

We stood beneath the tripod, looking up. The beam was weakening. We could see that. I was trembling. Seel put his hands on my arms and turned me to face him. His eyes were the eyes of a stranger. His hair was moving, as I had always expected it could, of its own volition.

"That is another of our children," he said, jerking his head upwards. "The child of Grissecon."

I was numb. "Don't say that... it is hurting. Oh, Seel, I can feel it!" I could. It was like being ripped apart. Seel made that happen. He made us be in tune with it. Hysteria raised my voice to a squeal. Seel shook me firmly.

"Shut up! Listen to me. We have the power; only us. Do as I say! Do you hear me?" He looked incredibly fierce; a Seel unknown to me. I nodded. "Then be naked, Swift."

"What?"

"Do it, Swift!" There was no way I could argue with him. He scared me. He was different. This was a Seel who could kill. Ashmael, wide-eyed, stared at us maniacally through the legs of the tripod. "Seel!" he shouted. "Seel! Seel!"

"It's alright." That was all he said, all he had to say. Ashmael dropped his head. My fingers fumbled with fastenings to my clothes. "Help him!" Seel ordered and hands were upon me, ripping, not bothering with fastenings. I had heard of pelki and I thought it must feel something like that. To lose control of your body. To have other people move it for you. I resisted the urge to struggle. Shivering, I was on my knees in the black earth, naked and defenseless, three hundred pairs of eyes upon me and God knows how many more beyond the walls.

Seel dragged me to him and we sat on the ground beside the tripod. His hair was across his face; I did not know him. "Trust me, Swift!" My leg was twisted beneath me. I could not move. Seel straightened it out.

"This is the most vital Grissecon either of us will ever have to perform," he said. "Do as I say. It will not be much. But concentrate!"

We sat facing each other. He arranged my limbs and pulled me onto his lap. I was not prepared; it hurt horribly. Flashes of red appeared in the light around us. Seel held me against him and I could feel his heart beating and buried my face in his hair so I could not see them watching us. But I could hear the crooning. Seel threw back his head and screamed out in a language unfamiliar to me. It was like gibberish, but I understood the meaning. He called to the crystal, ordered it to feed from us, let our strength combine with its own. Seel's fingers pressed the base of my spine and he moved within me, seeking the special places so that desire flamed inside me; I had no control over it. I was mindless, like the power, just body, just essence. The pain made it like perversion. I was making noises and when I heard them, it was as if they came from somewhere else. I opened my eyes and saw a dozen greenish fingers of light tentatively reaching down toward us from the crystal. Seel bit my ear and I winced.

"Concentrate! Power!" he cried. "Power! Power!"

I threw back my head, my eyes snapped open again and the radiance burned into me. I howled and felt the core of heat build up within me. I dragged it out of myself. I was rising. I was becoming stronger and stronger. Bigger; rising. We were so tall, we filled the sky. Like Gods, like angels; pure fire, nothing else. The moment came.

Deep within me, the burning serpent bit the star and with a wordless scream, a great tide of energy burst out, like an exploding sun. Around us, the Gelaming fell to the ground, hiding their faces, curled up. I was ignited again (it so rarely happens twice like that), and in a glorious blaze of light, shaped like a towering figure with wings across its face, its feet, its back, so full of light, so ultimately wondrous, the child of our essence reached out one lazy arm and touched the walls of Fulminir. Ponclast's demon seemed piteously small beside it, quivering, shrinking. I was laughing out loud, crazily. Through tears of laughter, I watched as, like powdering rock destroyed by rain, the walls of Fulminir crumbled. Great chunks of stone rolled earthwards, revealing the dank innards of the citadel, spiked towers, curving walkways and squat, blackened buildings. The citadel was wrapped in the blue-green radiance of aruna power. Frothing, fizzing, the child of the crystal jetted up into the air and exploded in a million droplets of sparkling foam, drifting downwards like bubbles, descending like sleep on the streets of Fulminir.

Seel and I shivered together, spent on the ground. The light had left us. The bowl on the tripod was empty. Someone came over and wrapped us in cloaks or blankets; something. Rain began to fall and I looked up into it, blinking.

High above, through the blinding sheets of water, a crack had appeared in the cloud. Beyond it, the sky was blue.

I turn the pages of a storybook. It is old, its pages thumbed by many human children. I come to the part where the prince comes through a barrier of thorns and finds a sleeping palace. The thorns are everywhere. Perhaps it was difficult for him to see the people. They would have been dusty, almost insubstantial, frozen forever at that moment when the spell was cast. Birds hanging in the air; impossible. A bee poised motionless at the brink of a flower and all the bodies. . . . Are their faces alarmed? Are they looking skywards, feeling the awful power descending, one last moment of dread before their minds are numbed? The book does not tell about that.

In the story, a princess sleeps in the highest tower and only the kiss of the prince will awaken her. In this palace, the one before me, the one that I brought back the memory of a childhood tale, the only possible princess, the king's only child, is long dead. Not a spindle-prick, not death through innocence, but a father's hand holding out the fatal cup.

There is a tower in Fulminir. It is tall and it is perpetually dark. No princess ever slept there, I'm sure, but I ordered it to be forever sealed and I had them plant briars at its foot, so that one day thorns and flowers will cover its walls. It is a tomb without a body. It is for Gahrazel and to show him that I did not forget.