storm (3 page)

            A deafening crash came from the direction of the Reliquary, and everything went black.  In the darkness, pinned beneath Raven's heavy, panting body, Moon waited for the sky to fall in.  Everything had ended.  The dark had come.

Moon opened his eyes, fully expecting to find himself in some kind of spirit realm, but was surprised and relieved to find that he was still lying on the ground in the orchard, which was indeed covered in debris as if a terrible storm had hit it.  Raven was nearby, pulling on his clothes.

            “What was that?” Moon asked.

            “I don't know,” Raven said. “Earthquake, maybe.”

            “Did we do that?”

            Raven smiled, something he did so rarely, but which made him look truly beautiful.  “No, we didn't,” he said dryly, but not without humour.  “Don't worry.  It's not bad.”

            “How do you know?”

            Raven tied up his braids again, which had come loose aruna.  “I should check on Snake.”

            It was at this point that Moon realised his whole body was throbbing and aching in a not altogether unpleasant manner.  He didn't want to move and yet he did.  “I'll come with you,” he said and sat up.  The world swayed, and for some moments he had to sit with his head between his knees.

            “You should really stay here,” Raven said.  “You should rest.”

            “I want to see if he's OK.”

            Raven didn't say anything else, but simply headed in the direction of the Reliquary.  Moon quickly pulled on his clothes and scrambled after him.  He didn't feel remotely in control of his limbs, but at least they seemed willing to propel him in the right direction.

            The door to Snake's room was stuck, because something heavy on the other side was wedged against it.  Both Raven and Moon leaned upon it, pushing with all their strength.  Moon nearly passed out with the effort.  By the time they'd managed to force the door open a few inches, his vision was totally occluded by darting spots of light.

            Raven squeezed through the gap and ran into the room.  Moon had to follow more slowly.  He felt utterly nauseous now, not least because hot fluid had fallen out of him in an unexpected gush and had soaked his trousers.  The room was a mess.  An ornamental pillar had fallen, which was what had wedged the door shut.  A lot of the ceiling ornaments had come down and covered the floor and furniture.  Snake was lying face down in the middle of the room, his arms and legs spread out.  He was wearing a long robe, but his feet were bare: the sight of his upturned soles was heartbreaking, because they looked so vulnerable.  One of the feet was twisted and withered, and Moon so rarely saw that.  Snake always kept himself covered.  It brought new tears to Moon's eyes.

            Raven was squatting down beside Snake and now turned over his body.

            Moon stood over them, both hands pressed against his mouth, sure that his father was dead.  But Snake groaned and his eyelids flickered.  Raven stroked dust and flakes of plaster from Snake's face.  “Look at me,” he said.

            Snake drew in a long breath and struggled to sit up, his arms flailing upon the air.  Moon went to assist Raven to lift his father.  “Are you all right, Snake?” Moon asked, at least three times.

            Snake did not seem to be aware that Moon was there.  He got to his feet and shrugged off his helpers.  Slowly, he limped across the room and went to a cupboard where he kept some rough wine they'd bartered for some months before.  This, he swigged from the flagon, then wiped his mouth with the back of his good hand.  He came back to his companions and handed the flagon to Raven, who gave it directly to Moon, saying, “You need this more.”

            Moon took a drink, knowing that both he and Raven were waiting for Snake's pronouncement, because it was clear he had one.  His golden eye glowed with its own light in the gloom of the room, where swirls of dust eddied in a beam of sunshine that came in through a high skylight.  “It is not unconnected,” he said at last.

            Moon and Raven said nothing.

            Snake nodded to himself and limped to his chair, where he sat down heavily.  He looked down at his withered foot, staring at it in surprise and contempt as if he'd never seen it before.  Intuitively, Moon fetched his father's boots and knelt to put them on for him.  He was surprised when Snake reached out and placed a hand on the top of his head.  “How are you, Moon?”

            Moon looked up.  “Fine.”

            “You shouldn't have come here.  You should rest.”  He stroked his son's hair and Moon saw in Snake's eyes an expression he'd never seen before: intimate and caring.  “It shouldn't have been like this,” Snake said.  “You should have had a feast and many friends around you.  Silken should have been here to wind your hair with flowers.”  He glanced briefly at Raven.  “We let you down.  We made no preparations.  We could have done, even just the three of us.  I'm sorry, Moon.”

            “It was fine,” Moon said.  “Really, I liked it.”  He felt like crying again, but this time with happiness.  Perhaps aruna had confounded his senses, and perhaps it had changed everything, as he'd suspected it might.  Snake had never spoken to him like this before.  Raven was a silent presence behind him, but even though Moon couldn't see him, he felt connected to him.  This was some kind of miracle.  “Was there an earthquake?” he asked his father.

            “Yes, it was that.”  Snake flexed his shoulders.  “Give me the wine, Moon.  I need another drink.”

            Raven brought the flagon over, but let Moon hand it to his father.  Snake took a long drink, his throat working rhythmically as he swallowed.  Then he said, “It is time to talk.”

            Moon and Raven sat at Snake's feet, and even though they weren't touching, Moon felt as though Raven was holding him in his arms.  It must be a dream: they had died in the earthquake after all.  This could only be Paradise.  How strange that he'd not known about this intimacy, had never missed it.

“They will come looking for me,” Snake said.  “It is only a matter of time.”

            “Who?” Moon asked.

            “My family,” Snake replied.  “Your family, Moon.  The end of one story is only the beginning of another.  Years ago, I made a decision and I intended to keep it.  I know now that it is beyond my control.”

            Moon waited, holding his breath.  He hardly dared breathe in case the sound of it took this miracle of communication away.

            “Your hostling,” Snake said, and then for some moments was silent.  “There are some who will tell you he was a vicious killer, Moon.”

            Moon uttered a choked laugh, because he had to make some kind of sound.

            Snake's right hand lashed out and clamped over Moon's mouth.  “We were the same, he and I.  We were together from the beginning.  We were Uigenna.  The memories you have of love and nurture are not false, but they are not the whole picture.  I made a choice to accept the Uigenna way of life, and I never regretted it, even though I knew my brothers had taken different paths.  I am what I am.”

            Moon struggled a little, but his father's hand gripped his jaw firmly.  Moon could barely breathe.

            “I have killed hara,” said Snake, “and I have killed humans, and if things were different I might still be doing that.”  He took his hand away from Moon's mouth and leaned back in his chair.

            Moon was panting.  He felt stunned.

            “Survival of the fittest, the best,” Snake said.  “That was our way, until the Gelaming took away our power.  We are hiding now, beaten and cowering.  This is not life, it is mere existence.  We are not jaguars, we are ghosts.”  He thumped an arm of his chair with his best hand.  “So, he cries out to me in his pain!  So, I can never hide or forget.  This is the way of it.  He will want me for my gold eye.”

            “Who?” Moon managed to ask.

            “The one who was my brother,” said Snake.  “The beloved.  We were kin when I was human.  He is already hunting us, and he is our enemy.”

            Raven made an anguished noise.  “I am at your side,” he said, his voice little more than a growl.  “None shall harm you.”

            Snake didn't take his eyes from Moon.  “When your mind walked the shining path,” he said, “when your body sang the song of the universe, it was heard.  It was inevitable, and was always destined to happen.  A powerful seer has heard it and he smelled your ecstasy.  He recognized the essence within the smell.  I saw this as the ground shook.  Soon, he will tell of what's he's seen, but not yet.  The darkness has come to the city of angels and he who dreamed is awake.  He is more awake than all the powers that seek to contain the truth could ever have imagined, and once he has rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he will begin to think.  And that is even more dangerous.”

            “I don't know of what you speak,” Moon said.

            Snake leaned down and cupped Moon's chin in his good hand, this time with gentleness.  “The moment you came into yourself, so great events took place elsewhere.  You were not a catalyst.  It was preordained.”

            “I will kill him,” Raven said.  “I will kill any of them.”

            Snake glanced up at him and spoke archly.  “Any?”

            “Even
him,
' Raven said.  “He has become one with those who ruined me.”

            “It will not be enough,” Snake said.  “They are too powerful.”

            “What do you speak of?” Moon asked in a shrill, desperate voice.  “Tell me!”

            “The Gelaming,” Snake said.  “Raven speaks of them.  He has his own story, which is only his to tell.  All you need to know is that my brother rules the Gelaming.  He is Pellaz.  You will remember this name.”

Chapter Two

“Is this it?”  Caeru har Aralis, Tigron of Immanion, was taking lunch with his best friend, Velaxis Shiraz.  Velaxis had the beautiful yet watchful face of a spiteful pedigree cat and platinum coloured hair that hung to his waist, currently tightly plaited and bound with black pearls.  Caeru, a slight, willowy creature, had a constantly startled appearance.  His hair was the colour of ripe corn and his skin smelled of summer.  He and Velaxis were Gelaming, from the cream of Wraeththu tribes, and they had recently suffered a cataclysm.

            Now, they sat upon the wide terrace outside Caeru's royal apartments that overlooked the hanging gardens of the palace Phaonica.  The terrace had been repaired, the shattered furniture replaced, but there were still signs of damage in the gardens, despite the fact that landscapers had been hard at work on repairs for weeks.  Caeru's favourite tree had come down: perhaps the thing he resented most of all.  He could no longer look at it while he took his breakfast.

            “What do you mean?” Velaxis asked, in his usual drawl, which held more than a hint of poison.  “Is what
it?
”