storm (43 page)

            For some moments, he could see nothing but an immense ball of radiance before him, and then something stepped forth from it.

            Pellaz dropped to his knees, hid his face.  He began, uncontrollably, to weep, because he had never beheld anything so magnificent or so frightening.  He wanted to run, but he could not move.

            “Now you see,” Peridot said to him.  “Now you see.”

            “You are an angel,” Pellaz said, his eyes still shut tight.

            “Some have called us that.  Gaze upon me, Tigron of Immanion.  You called to me, now have the strength to face what you invoked.”

            Pellaz raised his head.  His eyes were streaming and not just from emotion.  The image before him was blurry: a radiant figure ten feet tall.  “I can't look upon you,” he said, turning his head away.  “You know that.”

            “If any can, it is you,” Peridot said.  “But you have seen enough.  Turn your head from me and speak your heart.  In this form, I can speak to you in return.  Is that not what you want?”

            It took strength for Pellaz to speak, but perhaps there was not much time to ask all the questions that ranted inside him.  “Yes.  Tell me now.  What threatens us?”

            “An old bitter enemy,” Peridot replied.  “He aims to take what is yours, but he is twisted and guided by greater forces.”

            “Who?”

            “He who was hidden in the forest.  Lord of Varrs.”

            “Ponclast?” Pellaz exclaimed.  For a moment he glanced at Peridot again, and then regretted it.  His head spun and he turned away once more.  “How is that possible?”

            “Some secrets are not yours to own, in this life.  I cannot give you all the knowledge you seek.”

            “Can you help us?”

            “My brethren scream in torment.  I cannot go to them.  The ways are closed by those greater than I.  The
sedim
will help you, child.  You did not have to ask.  We are already helping you, though we tremble in fear.  We are lowly creatures among our kind, though to you we are as gods.”

            “How did Thiede find you?”

            “We found him, the most beautiful of the children of Hermaphroditus.  Our kings sent us to be with you, to guide you along the ways.  We are here in the nursery of Wraeththu to watch over those who grow.”

            “Did we do wrong in visiting another realm, Peridot?  Should we have left Lileem and Terez to their fate?  Was that the cause of what is happening now?”

            “No.  The one you call Astral and I did wrong in taking you there, but we were lucky and were undetected.  We broke the laws of our kind carrying you to another realm, for the time is not yet right for Wraeththu to be given such knowledge.  We did it for love of you.”

            “Can the ways be opened again?”

            “Yes.  No force is mighty enough to disrupt them for long, although in earthly time it might seem so.”

            Pellaz was silent for a moment, then voiced the most prickly question that beat upon his mind.  “Where is Cal?”

            Peridot answered without hesitation.  “With Perdu,” he said.

            “Who is that?”

            “You cannot ask me that.”

            “Was he abducted?  Did he run away?  What happened to him?  Peridot, if you know, you must tell me.  You know you must.”

            “He is safe,” Peridot replied.  “He lives.  That is all I can say.  His part is yet to come.  Do not ask me of this matter, which is so close to your heart.  Ask me what is vital.  I must revert very soon to my earthly form.”

            “What must be done now?”

            “Defeat Ponclast,” Peridot said, “though that task is not yours alone.  Galhea will fall, as the phoenix falls.  From the ashes will come that which shall bring victory.  I will carry the son of your brother to the great continent once the ways are open to me.”

            “Moon?”

            “Yes.  Have him be ready.”

            “Why?  What is his part?”

            “He is your avatar and you will need him.  I can say no more on that.  You should know that the
sedim
are sure your enemies will not move upon Immanion until the last of Parasiel is dust.  You have time, though you are disabled.  Summon a meeting of tribes.  The
sedim
will work diligently to open a channel of communication to those on this continent, as far afield as is possible for us at this time.  These troubles will bring all Wraeththu closer together.  Look for the one from the north, he who is brother to the wolf and the hare, for he has much to teach you.  Now, you must ask me no more.  I have said far more than I should.  It is not our way to interfere in the affairs of hara, as it was not our way to interfere in the affairs of humans.”

            “Perhaps you should have done,” Pellaz said softly.

            “Our interference would have had grave consequences,” Peridot said.  “You do not realise how much.  Know only this: in revealing myself to you in this way, we shall henceforth be closer in mind.  For now, you must say nothing to another living har of our conversation.  I trust you to remain silent.”

            “Silent?  Then how will I explain to the Hegemony about Ponclast?  If I reveal this information without giving the source, it will look suspicious, and the Tigrina already believes I have adversaries in the Hegalion.”

            “At the strike of three after the noon bell, a message from your brother will come to you.  Be ready for it.  That is the information you need.  I must take on the flesh of the beast again now.  The air here stings me.”

            “Thank you, Peridot,” Pellaz said.  “You have given me far more than I dared hope for.”

In Galhea, there was much argument over who should go to Imbrilim.  While Cobweb and Snake concentrated on gathering information from the ethers, Swift met with Seel and his right-hand har, Ithiel, in his office.  Swift wanted Ithiel to remain at home, as he was the most trusted of Swift's hara, and had once been a general of Terzian's armies.  Swift thought it made sense for Ithiel to protect Galhea while he himself rode to Imbrilim, because he wanted to talk face to face with the Gelaming.  Ithiel, predictably, disagreed, saying that if there were indeed enemies about, the leader of Parasiel riding in only a small party was an obvious target for attack, and because nohar knew how they'd managed to infiltrate Cobweb and Snake's barrier of protection and break unheard into
Forever,
it was likely the could attack without warning.

            “We must send a high-ranking har,” Swift said.  “I can't trust any but your or I to negotiate with them.  They can be slippery fish, as we know.  If there is trouble, I wonder how much aid they'll be willing to lend any but their own tribe.”

            “You cannot trust me?” Seel asked.  “Remember I am Gelaming before I am Parsic.”

            “I didn't mean you,” Swift said.

            “Then I will go.  I know the ways of Gelaming intimately.  Also, I think you underestimate how much they value the House of Parasiel.  They will give us aid, should it be needed.”

            “Seel, it could be dangerous.  I don't want to risk your safety.”

            Seel laughed.  “I have lived a dangerous life, Swift, long before I met you.  I'm probably the best equipped for this task, other than Ithiel.  Also, I want you to make sure every effort is made to find our son.  I want to do this myself, and I know that the Imbrilim commander, Arahal, will not refuse me whatever I ask for.”

            Swift sighed deeply.  “I'm not happy about this, but your words make sense.  Go at once, Seel.  Take a dozen armed hara with you.  Take the best of our horses.  Ride fast.”

In an upstairs room that Cobweb liked to use for meditations, as if overlooked the wildest part of the garden, he and Snake sat opposite each other on the floor, their minds fighting with what felt like wet silk mesh that tried to obstruct their investigations at every turn.  Cobweb drew strength from Snake.  Every time his will faltered, he concentrated upon a point of light that was the essence of Snake's being.  It drew him back to the path, which was so difficult and vague.  Sometimes, Cobweb heard terrible screams, which he knew emanated from the otherlanes.  Cobweb lacked the ability to travel the otherlanes in astral form.  He could only wander the ethers, which are comprised of layers of thought of every living being, past and present.  If the otherlanes are like roads upon a world, then the ethers are the memories of those roads.  They cannot be travelled to reach a destination, merely used to view countless potential destinations, to give glimpses of what might be found there.

            Cobweb saw many perplexing images before his mind’s eye.  Some were so alien he could not identify their components, but then, in a flash, he saw an image of Terzian.  It was enough to make him jump partially out of his trance.  The dreams he'd had the previous night still haunted him.

            “They have got out,” Terzian said, and vanished.

            His voice had been so clear it was as if he were standing at Cobweb's shoulder in reality.  Cobweb gasped and opened his eyes.  It felt as if his body had forgotten how to breathe: he had to make a conscious effort to do it.

            Opposite him, Snake opened his eyes.  He looked dazed.  “What is it?” he asked.  “What did you see?”           

            “Terzian,” Cobweb answered.  “He spoke to me.”

            “Did he speak of the black fortress?”

            “No...”  Cobweb rubbed his face.  “He said, 'They have got out'.  Black fortress...” Cobweb shook his head.  “No, that cannot be possible.  What did you see?”

            “I saw a memory: Seel and Swift before a great citadel.  Many hara.  Engines of war.  I saw the radiance of magic, of Grissecon.  Energy.  I smelled blood.”

            “Fulminir,” Cobweb said.  “Can it be that?”

            “The Varr stronghold?” Snake said.  “I have heard of it.”

            “Who hasn’t of our generation?” Cobweb said dryly.  Her pursed his lips.  “There is an interpretation of what we've both seen, but I don't like it.”

            “Which is?”

            “Ponclast's forces, or what was left of them, were contained in an area south of here, sealed off by an energetic barrier.  Thiede assured us it could never be breached, that Ponclast's hara would live there forever until they died.  They had everything they needed to survive.  It was not as brutal as it sounds.”

            “Any form of cage is brutal to the one trapped within,” Snake said.  “Do you think this was what Terzian referred to?”

            “It seems too much of a coincidence, you seeing Fulminir.  Terzian and Ponclast were very close.”  Cobweb paused.  “Do you know, I've not thought of those hara since the day Thiede told me what he'd done with them.  I don't think anyhar has.  They are the forgotten tribe, the embarrassment we'd rather forget.  They were the scapegoats, who carried all Varrish sins into the Forest of Gebaddon for eternity.  There were countless other Varrs, who no doubt now hold high positions and great wealth, and who were probably no better than them.  The hara of Fulminir took the brunt of Gelaming wrath.  In retrospect, I can see this was not entirely just.  They should have stood trial, like many others did.  Not all of them could have been evil.  They just followed orders, as everyhar did, like Ithiel, who is now one of the most respected hara in Megalithica.  At one time, he was on the Gelaming's most wanted list.”