The Wraeththu Chronicles (95 page)
Read The Wraeththu Chronicles Online
Authors: Storm Constantine,Paul Cashman
Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction
"Anyway, you talk as if I had a choice of living or dying. How can I? This is Thiede's doing. He took me apart, he sapped my will to live. Blame him! Your friend Thiede! Or doesn't that suit you?"
It was pointless arguing with him. Neither of us could reach the other over this. We had no common ground. Perhaps he thought that his death would be the final insult for our allying with the Gelaming. That was the truth of it. He was blaming us, me especially, for his death. If he forgave me, he lost his reason for dying.
"I can't let you do this," I said."What makes you think either of us has any control over it?" he responded.
"You, father, you make me think it!" I shouted. I walked out, slammed the door, and leaned upon it on the outside, shivering.
NINE
Elysian Song
The pillar was risen to infinity,
The pyre has cast his throne,
The gates of Heaven have sounded the bell. . .
Calling me back home.
Days passed. Sunlight on the fields, life stirring. People from afar. Nomad tribes were made welcome for the first time upon Galhea's lands. We sought to annihilate the memory of the Varrs and our tribe was given a new name; Parasiel. It is the name of an angel and he is the lord and master of treasures. We have found treasure within ourselves and this name seemed truly apt.
My father hung onto life, though daily he seemed to fade. I visited him every evening but it was hard to talk. Perhaps everything that could be said between us had already been said. It was as if he wanted to linger in this world for as long as possible, in a distressing state, in order to inflict as much pain as he could upon my hostling and myself. Day by day, he released a little more of his life force into infinity. Mengk was with him constantly; another devotee made to suffer. Cobweb behaved like a kind of tortured saint, full of self-recrimination, solicitous to Mengk, calm and understanding with Terzian, unshakable.
Thiede left Galhea to return to Immanion, promising me a summons to Phaonica in the near future as official representative of Parasiel for the forthcoming talks concerning Megalithica's future. Ashmael had returned with Thiede, and Arahal had gone east to take charge of the Gelaming personnel in that area. At the moment, only a handful of Gelaming remained in Galhea. Later, this would change, as their architects and builders and technicians came to get to work on the town, but for a while our lives were our own.
It was not spoken of, but it was clear that we in the house were all just waiting for Terzian to die. Perhaps it sounds harsh to say that, but for myself, I was mainly concerned for Tyson and Azriel, who could not but
be affected by the heaviness in the atmosphere. All conversations seemed to be conducted in whispers; the harlings could not run or shout as harlings should. Outside Forever, my people seemed content to forget that they had ever been Varrs. Ithiel took his orders from me. I was Master of Galhea and Terzian still lived.
One night, a strong wind came up from the south, bringing heavy clouds with it that shook all the trees in the garden, and a faint, acrid smell of burning. Bryony ran around the house closing all the windows, for we expected rain. I had already organized a refurbishment of the upper stories of Forever, for I envisaged a day that the house would be used to its full capacity and too long had those haunted rooms stood untended. Bryony came to us in the sitting room, her face pale. "I don't like the third floor," she said, rubbing her arms. "Something seems to watch you there!" We laughed at her fears.
In the night, with wind lashing at the walls, speaking in a fierce, incomprehensible howl, I was woken up by a sound. A sound within the house, whose echoes had vanished by the time I was awake. Seel groaned when I shook him.
"What was that?" I whispered hoarsely.
"Nothing," he answered, and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his ears.
Nothing. For a while I lay awake in the dark with my arms behind my head, listening. Nothing. Perhaps I had been mistaken. Perhaps a dream ... I began to drift back to sleep, but just as I was slipping under, it came again. Low, booming. I was not mistaken. I was fully awake this time. Not bothering to tell Seel, I scrabbled from the bed, pulling on a robe, and crept to the door.
Outside, the corridor was in darkness. I could hear the wind all around me. Feeling my way to the stairs, I reached to turn on the light. The sound came again; deafening. A great, hollow thundering. The door. Someone demands entrance. Who. . . ? Someone. Three times. I had heard it three times.
Flooded with light, the hall beneath me looked tense and stark, the great front doors dark and solid before me. Why had no-one else woken up? I hesitated only a moment. My hands were upon the doors, pulling them open. Wind rushed into the house like an angry spirit, bringing a train of whirling leaves. My hair was blown up behind me, my robe flapped with life. Breathless, I cautiously narrowed my eyes at the garden beyond. Nothing. There was no-one there. Only the wind howling.
With effort, I pushed the doors closed again and turned the great key in the lock. It should always be locked, I thought. Then the back of my neck began to prickle. My hair began to rise. The hall was too quiet. For a moment, I did not turn round. My heart slowed down to a comfortable pace, I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Swift." A single word. A single sound. A hundred memories flooding in; the past around me. I turned round. He was carrying a canvas bag which he dropped to the floor. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was longer than I remembered, and windswept. He looked very tired.
I said, "Cal," and found my back pressed against the door. There was no way out for me through them, though. "How. . . ? How did you get here?"
"You're afraid!"
"No." I made myself step toward him. He stepped back. "How did you get in here?" I repeated. "How. . . ?"
"No!" He would not let me continue. "I'm here. That's all. That's all you need to know. I've been given time. Not much, but enough for what I have to do." He looked stern, but he couldn't keep it up. His face softened. "Oh, Swift, how I've missed you all."
I found myself smiling. How could I help it? "You're not a ghost? You're sure you're not a ghost?"
He shook his head. "Oh no, no, I'm not. They'll never kill me, Swift. You know that. Now, will you take me to Terzian?"
"Can't we talk first? It's been so long. I want to know what happened to you."
"I'm sorry ..." He shook his head again.
There was so much I wanted to say. I could only stare at him speechless.
"Please, Swift. Now." He lifted his bag.
I led the way upstairs. "Do you get a feeling, walking up here? Does it make you remember?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said quietly.
Two steps from the top, I turned on him. "Oh, Cal, is it bad? Are you alright? Where did they take you? Did they hurt you? Are you safe?"
He almost fell backwards in surprise at my outburst. "Don't ask me questions, Swift, please. I cannot answer them."
"Then let me touch you."
"Alright. For a moment." He held out his arms and I stood on the step above him so that our height was level. He felt cold, but it was only the chill of being out in the wind. His violet gaze was steady. "Take this back to your lover," he said. "My taste." We shared breath, but I could taste only blackness, like a veil. He would show me nothing. "There's not much time," he said.
At the doorway to my father's room, he touched my face and said, "Don't come in with me, Swift."
"There's so much I want to say. Will we see you again?"
He smiled that lazy smile. "Oh, can I come back here? Will I be made welcome in Seel's house?"
I lowered my eyes. I had forgotten that.
Cal laughed softly. "Oh, Swift, don't be ashamed. You are happy and I'm happy for you. Your life will be perfect. You have everything."
"You must come back," I said. "What is done is done, but you are still part of us. Your son is here. For him, you must come back."
"If I can, maybe. Personally, I think Tyson would be better off not knowing about me."
I shook my head. "Never."
"I'll always think of you, Swift, you and your mad hostling. The changeling. I've thought of you all a lot recently."
"Where have you been?"
"Places, that's all. This sounds dramatic, but I'm being followed. A har on a black horse. How symbolic! My trials are not yet over, I'm afraid. There are still ghosts snapping at my heels. They battle for my soul, you know. Succoring Terzian on his deathbed is a karmic point to me, I think." He laughed again, his face lighting up as it always did. A summer smile.
"No-one will ever have your soul," I said. "Cal, about Pellaz. He is alive, you know."
There was a moment's silence. His face shivered briefly. "Yes," he said, "I know, Swift." He pulled a forlorn face and shrugged. He would say no more. "I'll have to say goodbye now, Swift."
"I can't just let you go like this. Stay a while, it can't hurt, there's so much—"
"No! You have to let me go. It's out of our hands. Goodbye."
He opened the door, walked inside, into the darkness, closed it. I stood there for a moment or two, wondering. All was silence. Outside, the wind had dropped.
In the morning, I learned that my father was dead. The house was full of peace. When I looked at the body, I could see tranquility in that lifeless face. A faint smile. My father's spirit was free now. He had another chance.
I took Cobweb and Seel to the long gallery and told them about a dream I'd had the night before about Cal coming back to Forever. I half suspected that Cobweb was responsible, for he was a master of visualization, but his surprise was genuine enough.
"A dream, Swift?" he said.
"It may have been," I answered.
We left it at that. Cobweb covered all the mirrors in the house and had someone stop the clocks. He was serene. We burned Terzian's body on a great pyre in the fields beyond Galhea and the ashes were scattered to the four winds. With their scattering, we all knew that the last of the Varrs had perished. The name was only a dark memory.
Most days, I like to walk in the garden. I can think there. In the evening, the summerhouse calls me and I go to it, although it is barely recognizable now. Ivy has covered it and the lily bowl is choked forever. It is there that I can talk to you best, Cal. For sometimes, I am sure that you are near. It is where I can tell you to come back to us, that hate is banished for good from our home and even you could not bring it back in.
In the autumn, Seel and I are going back to Immanion, but it won't be for long. We shall be coming back for Festival and Ashmael will be with us. Seel says it is because Cobweb has bewitched him and I'm sure you can understand that! It will be a good Festival, Cal. We will remember, but not with sadness. I want you to know that whatever evil you think is inside you (and I do know that you think that), it is only part of the essential harmony of the world; the world needs you. Without pain, there cannot be pleasure, without darkness, light cannot thrive. We need contrast, and the lone wolves who stalk the earth, like yourself, they bring perspective and objectivity into our lives. We need you, Cal, all of us. Angel or devil, you hold the balance. You begin the tales, we end them. It is time that you began your own. Every day, I look at Tyson and see your eyes. One day, he will ask me about you, for you are in his heart. The hostling who did not care. That is something you must attend to, for your son is innocent and your trials are not his.
I often wonder if you and Pell are together again, if you have met, even. Would that be the prize or the punishment? Perhaps, when I go to Imman-ion, I shall find out. When I get back.... Remember, Cal, Cobweb and the harlings will be almost alone in Forever while Seel and I are away. That is the time. I am counting on it. We shall come back through the snow and the yellow lights of Forever will be shining out to greet us. The doors will be flung wide open and the house inside will be alive with celebration. We shall walk into the hall and I shall see you there. I think you'll smile in that lopsided way you have and stand before me and say, "You see, I couldn't keep away. I've come home."
It isn't long, Cal. Listen to me. The bewitchments of love and hate are perhaps the strongest magics in the world. Magic called you to us in the beginning, I am sure of it. I called your name in a dream. Now I'm calling you again. Listen in the shadows; I'm whistling in the dark.
