storm (27 page)

            “We don't know who our allies are, do we?” Pellaz said bitterly.

            “Not really,” Cobweb agreed.

            In the afternoon, as low sunlight spread across the gardens of Kalalim, Pellaz walked across the sloping lawns with  Opalexian.  He had sent Cobweb back to the Sarestes house, because he needed to talk to the Kamagrian alone.

            “Please tell me,” he said, “about Cal.”

            “I've already told you everything, you know that.  I did what I could with him.”

            “I don't mean then.  I mean now.”

            “I can't tell you everything, Pell.”   Opalexian sat down on a lichened stone seat that looked as if it had grown out of the earth.  Below her, lakes dreamed, in glassy-eyed stillness.  There was a chill to the air, though the sunlight was mellow.

            Pellaz sat beside her.  “Where is he?  I've tortured myself wondering.  I've always believed we were meant to be together, that our union was somehow sacred, different...”  He sighed.  “Everyhar in love thinks that, perhaps every parage too.”

             Opalexian laid a hand over Pell's own, which were clasped in his lap.  “Never give up hope,” she said.  “Your belief will be challenged, Pell.  I can almost smell it, like I can smell the pears in my orchard down there.”  She nodded in the direction of the ancient trees that stood to the right of the lake.

            “I can smell them too,” Pell said.  He absorbed the comfort that flowed from the Kamagrian's fingers, found himself thinking of Thiede, then of his own long dead mother, and an overwhelming desire to be held close.  “I won't give up.”

             Opalexian closed her eyes, drew in her breath through her nose.  “The flavour of the season is that of denial,” she said.  “Of love and desire frustrated.  I can feel it.  This energy will fan the flames to temper Wraeththu's strongest weapons.”  She opened her eyes, looked at him.  “Including your own."

Chapter Thirteen

Cal knew he was being watched: he always knew.  Thiede observed him continually.  In this strange realm, Cal rarely saw the har – or creature beyond har – who taught and guided him.  His lessons came in dreams, and in bolts of inspiration.  Now, in a room of polished obsidian, in its centre, he sat cross-legged on the floor.  The chamber was spherical, its floor a transparent platform of black glass.  Cal could not see below the glass, because he had not elected to illuminate his working space.  He was working on an idea that had recently come to him.  Before him, at eye level, he had constructed from pure intention an eye into the realm of earth.  It was like an egg of indigo stars.

            Then a voice came from above him.
            “Do not look too deep, Cal.”

            He glanced up and saw that, in the darkness, a gallery had become visible, some twenty feet above his head.  Thiede stood there, clad in close-fitting dark clothes, which was unusual, because on the few occasions Cal had seen him, he generally wore flowing robes.  Perhaps he had been travelling.  A flight of stairs appeared and Thiede descended them.

            “You have learned well,” he said, “but do not be tempted.”

            Cal did not close down the Eye.  “I think I should know what is happening.  You won't tell me.”

            Thiede put his hand above the Eye, then closed his fingers over it, drew his hand into a fist.  When he opened it again, a drift of sparkling motes fell to the glass floor and lay there winking, before going out, one by one.  “It is not your concern.  You are here to train, to learn, but not of that.”

            Cal rested his elbows on his knees, put his chin between his hands.  “I'm going out of my mind here.  I feel I've learned enough.”

            “Restless,” Thiede said.  “Yes, I know.”

            “Give me back the ability to travel the otherlanes.  I can't stay here any longer.”

            Thiede folded his arms.  “I have removed it from you for precisely this reason.  You must stay away from Immanion, Cal.  It will do no good, you returning there, for if you do, certain events will not take place that are essential.”

            “Are you capable of doing anything but using hara?” Cal asked.  He got to his feet.  “I've had enough.  I wander around in this dream of yours, and nothing's real.  I don't know what's become of my son since I brought the pearl to you.  I don't know what's happened to Pell or Rue.  I can't live like this.”

            Thiede drew in a long breath through his nose.  “It won't be for much longer.  Learn to be patient, as patient as a lioness stalking her prey.  Haste and impulse only waste good energy.  We have all the time we need here.”

            Cal made an angry gesture with both arms.  “You've kept me in stasis, like you did with Pell.  For all I know a hundred years have passed.  Sometimes, I wonder whether this is yet another tower you've confined me in.  Another sentence for what I did to Orien.”  Cal knew he was speaking in haste and impulse, and that it was most likely unwise.  He had never spoken Orien's name to Thiede before, nor alluded to his murder.  He realised he was trying to provoke a response, to anger Thiede enough to change things.

            Thiede regarded him expressionlessly.  “Do you think I'm still angry about that?  Strange.  Surely now, you must know that the experience of earthly incarnation is limited.  Orien isn't dead.  It's impossible to destroy the essence of a har.  It is possible only to destroy vehicles of flesh.”

            “Have you brought him back, like Pell?”

            Thiede smiled.  “No.  It does not work quite that way.  Orien lives again, but he does not remember his previous life.  Why should I be so cruel as to remind him?”

            Cal ran his fingers through his hair.  “How did you do it, Thiede?  I've never asked you.  How did you bring Pell back?  How did you know he was different?  The har he is now is not the one I knew before, and yet he is.”

            Thiede held out a hand.  “Walk with me, Cal.  Walk outside.”

            Cal had never ventured beyond the warren of strange buildings that comprised Thiede's haven.  Parts of it were extremely alien to behold, while others were very similar to structures in Immanion.  But as to what lay beyond it, Cal had not yet discovered.  He had supposed it was a lightless void and that the haven existed only in Thiede's mind, manifested as a dream.  Perhaps there was nothing beyond it.

            Now the glass floor began to descend, shrinking as it did so, until they stood at the base of the sphere.  A light appeared in the wall, which expanded, until it looked like a ring of flame, spreading outwards.  It left a hole, through which Cal could see the world outside.

            “Come,” Thiede said.  The hole was now big enough for them to step through.

            It looked like an ancient world, very similar to the one that Pellaz had described, where he'd found Lileem and Terez.  The light was dim and a red sun hung in the sky, bloated and surrounded by a nimbus of purple flame.  But, unlike in the realm of the Black Library, the landscape here was flat, an endless vista of shining lakes, surrounded by drooping trees that were not willows, but like them.

            Cal glanced behind him, saw an impossible structure rearing up, and had to look away, for it made no sense and taxed his mind.

            “You are right, I have partially created this realm,” Thiede said.  “It is my playground and my retreat.  I imagined it into being.”

            “Did you create Immanion this way?”

            “Partly.  I had help.”

            “From who or what?”

            “I will tell you all you need to know before you return home.  You asked about Pellaz, and it is of him I will speak now.”  Thiede began to walk toward the nearest lake and Cal followed him.  The air was neither cool nor warm.  There was no breeze.

            “Orien was the first incepted Wraeththu,” Thiede said.  “It was he who saw our potential before I did.  It was he who dreamed of tribes and progress.  We lost control of things very quickly.  We underestimated how quickly Wraeththu would grow.  We did not foresee the collapse of human civilization.  We thought we'd have more time to realise our dreams.”

            “Who made
you,
Thiede?”

            Thiede stopped walking and raised a hand.  “Let me speak.  Events occurred that enabled me to begin building Immanion.  Orien helped me stock it with first-class hara.”

            Cal made a noise of disgust and Thiede reached out briefly to touch his lips.

            “Be silent.  I know how much that idea offends you, and always has.  I do not need to hear your complaints about it now.  Just listen.”  He lowered his hand and began to walk forward again.  “Eventually, I came to know that a Tigron should be made, and I learned how.  Many hara believe it was a petty conceit of mine, that Pellaz was my creature, my cat's paw, but this is not the case.  I learned that, one day, the Tigron would have a great purpose.  He is not a figurehead, but a faculty of Wraeththu, like an eye or an ear.”

            “And now there are two of us,” Cal said.  “Has that ruined your plan?”

            “There is only one Tigron,” Thiede said.  “You and Rue are his limbs, perhaps, but Pellaz is the brain.  He has yet to realise his full potential.  Even I did not realise how great that could be.  I have many abilities that most hara do not possess.  But I also have my limitations.”  Thiede sat down beside the water and motioned for Cal to join him.  “I can remember the very moment when I realised Pellaz was the one.  I had received a message from Orien. 'Come quickly,' he said to me.  I could not wait: I had to look at once upon this boy Orien had found for me.  So, I constructed a device very similar to the Eye you just created back there.  I saw Pellaz fighting with Seel and Orien in the Forale House at Saltrock.  I saw his strength of will and the flame inside him that was contained, held back.  He was magnificent, like an unbroken colt, but I had no desire to break his spirit, to tame him.  Hara always misjudged me about that.  He needed discipline, for a long time, but only in order to learn self-discipline.  The har he now is the result of that training.  The pain he felt over you was equally important.”

            Cal nodded.  “I understand that now.  What I went through, at the time it was pure hell, but if I hadn't experienced it at all, I wouldn't be who am I now.  And I quite like the har I am.”

            Thiede laughed.  “I'm pleased to hear it.”  He took one of Cal's hands in his own.  “You might not be the Tigron Pellaz is, but you are just as vital to Wraeththukind. I believe that you and Pellaz share a soul.  Nohar, or any being of any realm, can sever that link.  And that is partly why you will protect him.  If he dies on earth, part of you will die with him.”

            “What must I do?”

            “I don't know that.  You will have to find out, follow your instincts, but I do know there will come a time when he needs you in order to survive.  A conflict is coming.”

            “What are we fighting, Thiede?”

            “Beings you cannot kill.  But you won't have to kill them.  You are not an assassin.  Your job is to learn how to displace entities, to flick them from their place in space and time.”