storm (79 page)

            “We brought them through with us,” Galdra said softly.

            “Who need mysterious allies from another realm?” Pellaz said.  “Galdra, we can make our own.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Kyrotates came to Ponclast in his broken tower and said, “Tiahaar, a large force approaches us.”

            It was mid-afternoon and mellow sunlight gilded all the strangely beautiful ruins of Fulminir.  On such a day could any har ride to war?

            “Many tribes ride behind the Tigron's banner,” Kyrotates said.

            Ponclast was in two minds: part of him scorned the Tigron's hubris for thinking he could simply march over to Fulminir and take it, while another feared that Pellaz har Aralis did this because he was confident he was about to enjoy a history-making victory.  Pellaz no doubt knew about the shadow assassins, the attack on Galhea, and perhaps even Abrimel by now.  Yet still he came, out in the open.  In his place, Ponclast would have used
sedim
for a more clandestine approach.  Should he send out his assassins now, even before Pellaz reached the fortress?  Was that the reaction the Tigron was attempting to provoke?  Did he have his own allies?  Ponclast was troubled.  He wished the Hashmallim were with him.  Abraxis had talked of the
teraphim
dealing with the
sedim,
but so far there was only one
teraph
in Fulminir: Golab.

            Ponclast summoned Diablo, who now spent most of his time amusing Geburael.  The harling was growing swiftly into a strong-minded, demanding individual.

            “I want you to observe the Tigron's forces,” Ponclast said.  “Do it discretely and do not put yourself in any danger.  Report back to me shortly.”

            He said to Kyrotates, “Bring Calanthe har Aralis to me.”

            Kyrotates bowed his head, but not before Ponclast noticed a furtive expression cross the har's face.

            “I hope he paid well for whatever you have given him,” Ponclast said tartly.

            Kyrotates looked him in the eye.  “Tiahaar...”

            “Get out!  Bring him here.”

            Cal came very swiftly, as usual the epitome of reserve and tranquillity.

            “Your chesnari rides toward us,” Ponclast said.  “Your thoughts?”

            “Be prepared, tiahaar.  That is my advice.”

            “Your thoughts, Cal.  Do you intend to fight at Kyrotates' side?”

            “My fighting days are over.”

            Ponclast exhaled through his nose impatiently.  “Speak plainly.  If you don't, I will be forced to take extreme action.  I would imagine that, despite your companion Moon Jaguar's Uigenna heritage, Pellaz still regards him as kin.  I can think of several ways in which that glad fact might serve me.”

            Cal appeared to ignore this threat.  “You cannot mistrust me completely, because here I am, alone in your presence.  You must be aware that if I were representing the Gelaming, now might be a good time to assassinate you.”

            “You think you could?”  Ponclast laughed coldly.  “You delude yourself.”

            “Not any more,” Cal said.  “You might be able to use Moon in some way to unsettle Pellaz, but then I wonder whether Pellaz, as he is now, could be affected by such a ploy.  I wouldn't count on it.”

            Ponclast felt he was very near to losing his temper.  “I don't want to hear any more of your slippery words, Cal.  You are either with us, or you're not.  I have just lit a fire beneath that fence you're sitting on.  Jump off it before the flames consume you.  You must convince me you have something to give and start giving it.”

            Cal shrugged.  “All I can give you is the simple truth: this matter will be settled between you and Pellaz.”

            “I know that.  Give me the advantage.  Give me information.  You know him more intimately than anyhar.  Prove to me he no longer has your loyalty.”

            “I cannot help either of you with information.”

            “That is not good enough.”

            “There's nothing I can do about that.  Perhaps Abrimel might be able to offer you more.  Why don't you ask him?”

            Ponclast was silent for a moment.  When this was all over, Kyrotates was in for a nasty shock.  “Abrimel will take his hostling's place, on the Tigrina's throne in Immanion,” Ponclast said.  “I wonder where you will be at that time.”

            Cal did not respond to that.  “Prepare yourself, tiahaar.  I told you what I could, and you chose not to heed it.  There's nothing else I can do.”

            “I will take you with me to Immanion,” Ponclast said softly.  “Let us see how your hara welcome you home.  You will be my gift to them.”

When the news came about the Gelaming advance, Moon and Tyson were sitting on a rooftop replacing tiles.  Naturally, once the information circulated, everyhar around them downed tools and sought out their superiors.  Moon noticed groups of hara glancing up at him and Tyson and knew they were being discussed.  He was consumed by a raw burst of anger.  They were in danger and Cal had put them there.  It was likely the Teraghasts would now turn on them, and at the very least incarcerate them.

            “What should we do?” Moon said.  “Where is Cal?  Ty, I'm not happy about any of this.”

            “Let's just go and ask what to do,” Tyson said.  “Be co-operative, remember?”

            Moon grimaced.  “I wonder if that will be any good to us now.”

            They descended the ladder against the building.  Moon followed Tyson to their supervisor, who was surrounded by a group of workers, all talking at once.  Tyson adopted his most respectful tone and asked the supervisor what he and Moon should do.

            The Teraghast stared at them coldly.  “You will be escorted to your quarters,” he said.  “If the time for conflict has come, pray that it will be of short duration.  I doubt any of us will have time to concern ourselves with bringing you supplies for a while.”

Back in their quarters, Moon and Tyson sat out in the courtyard, straining to hear anything they could beyond the wall.  There were sounds of great activity, but it was difficult to discern any useful details.  Ever since Cal had told them about Aleeme, Moon had been filled with a heavy sense of dread.  He couldn't bear to think of his friend suffering alone somewhere within the fortress.  Perhaps Aleeme was already dead.

            Moon had been too frightened to take aruna with Tyson again, and he sensed Ty felt the same, because it hadn't been mentioned.  They slept in each other's arms and were in every other way intimate, but actual aruna was beyond them.  Ever since they had been together, Moon had felt strange inside.  He was not in pain, nor felt damaged exactly, but it was as if a window onto infinity had opened within him.  It was a hollow feeling that made him feel unsafe and disconnected from the world.  Now, as the day lengthened into evening, Moon leaned against Tyson's chest, trying to find comfort in the contact, and not being too successful.  Dusk was coming, soft as a veil over the landscape.  What could they do?  The idea of rescuing the Parasilians seemed ridiculous now.  They would be lucky to escape with their own lives.  He closed his eyes and thought about how wonderful it would be to descend into a comfortable darkness and then wake up and find it was all over, just a terrible dream.  Then, in the blackness of his mind's eye, he saw a point of light, and a familiar presence brushed up against his consciousness, like the tail of a cat.

            Moon drew in his breath sharply.

            Tyson murmured, “What is it?”

            Moon pulled away from Tyson and sat up.  “I think...” he said.  “Ty, I'm going to try and contact Pellaz.”

            Tyson frowned.  “Is that wise?  What if Ponclast senses it?”

            “I don't care.  What else can we do?  I thought I felt Pell, just then, a feathery touch.  He is near us now.”

            “But he doesn't know we're here... does he?”

            “I don't know.  Help me to amplify a call.”

            Tyson twisted his mouth to the side.  “I don't think you should.  It's too dangerous, and anyway, Pellaz will be totally occupied with other things.  I doubt he'll hear you.”

            “
Please,
Ty!”

            “All right.  If you insist, but I don't like it.”

            They sat opposite each other and joined hands.  Moon felt a steady pulse of strength pass from Tyson's fingers to his own.  He projected a message with all his will: 
Pellaz, hear me!

           
For some moments, there was nothing, but then came a blast of communication that nearly knocked Moon to the floor.

           
You are in Fulminir?

            Moon felt Tyson's hands grip his own more tightly.  He had heard the message also.

           
Yes.

            Why?  Were you taken?

            We came to help the Parasilians.  We are virtually prisoners.
  A pause. 
We came with Cal.

           
Moon wasn't sure whether he should have relayed that last piece of information.  For some time, there was only silence, and it seemed to Moon as if a desolate wind coursed through his head.  Then came another blast of thought.

           
We are connected for a reason.  It makes no sense, yet it does.  You are partly in a world I have only recently discovered.  Are you taking aruna with somehar?

            No.  But I did.  Something happened.

            Show me!
Pellaz commanded. 
I can sense it.  Show me quickly.  It's important.

            Moon tried to project a linear narrative of his experience with Tyson, although it was difficult.  He felt slightly embarrassed about having to give Pellaz such private information.  Once he had shown all he could remember, there were again some moments of silence.  Then Pellaz roared in his head once more. 
You must go back there.  Now.  Is that possible?  I can meet you there.  Guide you.  Don't be afraid.

            I don't understand...  Meet me where?

            In the cauldron of creation.  In yours.