The Wraeththu Chronicles (105 page)

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Authors: Storm Constantine,Paul Cashman

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Wraeththu Chronicles
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Astarth raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "He's beautiful. What else can I say? If you look like that, being conceited, arrogant and insulting doesn't really matter, does it!"

 

No pity on Astarth's part, obviously.

 

The Mojags opened the door to us. Two of them were going off duty. "Don't envy you today," said the third. "We've not dared let him loose yet. He's got killing eyes today!"

 

"Oh, come now Outher," Astarth said lightly, "surely you're not afraid of our little pussy cat."

 

"See this?" Outher said to me, displaying a splendid scar on his neck.

 

"It's not fear; it's respect." I smiled politely.

 

"OK, take a break, Outher," Astarth commanded. "Calanthe and I can handle it."

 

There were curtains around the bed, blowing softly in a cold, light breeze. One of the windows was open. The bars beyond it were glistening with ice. I could see my breath. The room was freezing. Astarth pulled the curtains apart. On the bed Panthera lay spreadeagled, tied by ankles andwrists to the bedposts. It was not the most elegant of positions. His skin was dead white.

 

"I thought Jafit said he was going to let Panthera rest for a while," I said.

 

"He has! Panthera has to earn his keep too, you know," Astarth replied, rubbing his hands. "I'll get a fire going. God! It's like hell in here. Shut the window, will you."

 

It was stuck fast with ice. It had been a while since I had used any of my special abilities. I thought "warm" and was just successful enough to shift it. Standing back, wiping my hands, I felt a soft, hesitant mind touch. "You've taken the cold away ..." I looked sharply behind me. Outher had gone out. Astarth was busying himself at the grate. I looked at the bed, straight into the direct gaze of a pair of green eyes. "The others have forgotten how to do this. You're not one of them, are you?" I flicked a quick glance toward Astarth. It was obvious he had sensed nothing of this silent conversation. To me it was like having someone confirm that, yes, I was alive—at least not brain dead. I had thought my ability to communicate in this uniquely harish manner had rotted through disuse, but apparently not. It reinforced my views about the pedestal. Panthera, I could love you.

 

Astarth wandered back to the bed, brushing wood dust off his hands. "OK, big cat. I'm going to untie you now. Just don't try anything stupid." Panthera didn't answer. He was still just staring at me. I went over and untied his wrists. The flesh was like corpse flesh; icy. Half his long fingernails were broken off, raggedly, viciously. Once free, he sat up and rubbed his wrists. I realized he must have been tied up like that all night, yet how detached from it he seemed. As if it was nothing. Astarth handed him a robe which he wrapped around himself. Without a word, he went into the bathroom and, presently, I heard water running. "He'll have a bath now," Astarth said. "Does he ever . . . speak?"

 

"Sometimes. He's so arrogant, so high and mighty. It's not our fault he's here, is it!

 

Some of us tried to help him, you know, make friends at first, but he didn't want to

 

know. He's happy to stay in his tower of ice."

 

"Perhaps he'd be insane if he wasn't." I looked toward the bathroom. "I think I'll try

 

and talk to him."

 

Astarth laughed. "You're wasting your time," he said. "We've got to clean up in here.

 

Don't be long."

 

Panthera lay back in his bath, facing the door. His eyes were closed. "They are not

 

true Wraeththu here," he said at once, again through direct contact to the brain.

 

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "So how do you know I'm so different?" I asked aloud.

 

Panthera opened his eyes. "They do talk a lot you know. I know all about you. You've got them guessing. I know you want to leave here."

 

"Can't you speak aloud?"

 

"It is dangerous. You'll know why when you understand what I have to say. I knew you'd be sent in here eventually. I've been waiting. You shouldn't confide in Lolotea, Calanthe, you really shouldn't."

 

I didn't comment. There was nothing I'd told Lolotea that I didn't want anyone else to know.

 

"Get me out of here, Calanthe ..." A silver arrow of thought.

 

"What? Are you mad?"

 

"Not at all. I've thought about it very carefully. I'm not going to die here. I've tried every other way of escaping. I need help from the outside now."

 

"You can get lost!" I said, standing up. He was mad.

 

"No," he said silently. "I can't. That's why I need help, you fool. You are leaving eventually anyway. You're a Varr, Calanthe. You can get me out." He closed his eyes once more. "Come back. Talk to me."

 

"You've forgotten how to talk, I think."

 

Panthera speaks mostly with his eyes. I knew I'd help him. He knew it too. It was something that had been subliminally decided from the moment I first saw him.

 

"One more thing," he said. "It will interest you to know; my family will pay highly for my safe return to them." He smiled. "Until we meet again, Calanthe." He slid under the water, all his hair floating around him like weed, his eyes open, staring up through the water.

 

I went through the door. "Goddam!" I said. "Goddam!"

 

"I didn't hear him answering you," Astarth said smugly.

 

"Oh, he whispered!"

 

Astarth laughed. "Oh dear! Got to you has it? We've all been through it, Calanthe. We've all wanted him. He has that power."

 

"And where are your powers Astarth?" I asked.

 

There was a silence. Astarth uncovered the tray of food. "There is a price to pay for everything," he said.

CHAPTER
 
FIVE

 

The Beginning of Plans

 

"Tell me:

Which is the way I take; Out of what door do I go,

Where and to whom?"

 
—Theodore Roethke, The Flight

 

 

1 could have told Jafit, of course. I could have gone straight to his office and said, "Guess what, Panthera has asked me to help him escape!" and, no doubt, we'd have both laughed about it. There were two reasons why I didn't do that. The first was that I hated what I was having to do to earn money, and Panthera had mentioned a substantial reward. The second was that I thought it would help me considerably to be in the company of a native Jaddayothite when I first went there. The fact that Panthera was irresistably lovely had nothing at all to do with it. It would not be an easy thing to accomplish though. Panthera was guarded night and day. We'd need horses, money. . . . Someone outside Piristil. Now then, who did I know who was also a native of Jaddayoth, who had horses and money and who was planning to return home soon? Kruin. I'd have to start working on him, and fast.

 

That afternoon, I went into Fallsend with Lolotea and Flounah. My mind was buzzing with plans. Lolotea said I was preoccupied. "What's the matter?" he asked.

 

"I know," Founah said darkly. I looked at him quickly. He smiled. "It's Panthera, isn't it? It bothered me too at first. At least I live this life by choice!"

 

I smiled carefully. Flounah nodded to himself. He understood quite a lot. We took wine together in a small inn near the market. Lolotea went off to buy himself some Gimrah cheese. Flounah glared at the passersby through the window, taking small, bird-like sips of his wine.

 

"So, tell me," I said, "what's it like in Maudrah at this time of year?"

 

Flounah grimaced. "Cold. The weather is the one thing that Ariaric has no control over."

 

"Ah yes," I said casually, "Ariaric. He sounds a fascinating character. What is it they call him? The Lion ... or something?"

 

"The Lion of Oomadrah, yes. He is thought of as a god . . . lucky for him . . ."

 

Suddenly, I didn't want to hear any more. It was too much of a coincidence, that was all. How many self-styled leaders of Wraeththu tribes might identify themselves with the king of the beasts? Many. I broke quickly into Flounah's conversation, not wanting to hear anything that might confirm or deny my suspicions. "Why can't you go back there?" This was, of course, breaking the Piristil tradition, but Flounah didn't appear to object.

 

"What makes you think I want to?" he said.

 

"Well, working in Piristil is hardly a worthy way to spend your life."

 

"No, of course it isn't! Let's just say I'm licking my wounds here. Maudrah is not for me. I wanted to get away more than had to. In the summer I intend to head west, maybe southwest to Almagabra. I need money." I could sympathize with that. "Hara like Lolotea and the others, they will be here forever," Flounah continued, without malice. "They lack spirit. You, on the other hand, would be wise to wait until the spring before you leave here."

 

"You think I'm planning on leaving then?"

 

He gave me a stripping glance. "Oh yes, I think you are. Don't be hasty." I wondered how much he knew, or had guessed. Perhaps not all of the kanene were as helpless as I'd thought.

 

I nearly said, "OK, but I haven't got that long," but managed to check myself in time. For all I knew, Flounah might have been instructed by Jafit to question me. "I'm not planning on going anywhere yet," I said. "I want to save at least fifty spinners. That's at least seven weeks, if I don't spend a single fillaret. You think I'd head off into the great unknown with no money and winter coming on? You think I'm that crazy?" I shook my head, smiling. "No, I'm not leaving." Flounah raised his brows, sipped thoughtfully.

 

Thankfully, Lolotea chose that moment to return. He offered us some of his cheese. It was really quite exquisite.

 

"I want to buy some," I said.

 

"I thought you were saving every fillaret of your money," Flounah mentioned accusingly.

 

"Oh, buy some!" Lolotea said cheerfully. "Don't be such a misery, Flounah!"

 

Flounah will watch me now. I'm certain of it. He doesn't know me. None of them know me. Once, long ago, I'd learned how to escape. That time, I'd left a lover behind me to die. I still haven't paid that debt. Maybe now is the time. I raised my glass and stared Flounah in the eye.

 

"To my cheese," I said.

 

Kruin came to me again two nights later. I'd been waiting for him, panicking, thinking, "Oh God, I upset him. He'll never come back again!" But he did. He came in through the door and said.

 

"I've been thinking of you, Calanthe. I was hard on you last time. I'm sorry. Here." He gave me a necklace of polished stones.

 

"Don't be silly," I said, putting it around my neck. "Thank you, Kruin. I like it. You look nice today too."

 

"Oh, come on!" Kruin sat down on my bed and kicked off his boots. "This town is a hole. Neither of us should be here." "No," I agreed. "Wine?"

 

"Mmmm." He looked thoughtful. "I enjoy being with you, you know. Don't think that I don't."

 

"I'm glad. Get your money's worth, Kruin. It's always better if you enjoy it."

 

"I don't know how you do it; you're always so cheerful." "Of course. I'm here to please. Drink up!"

 

I really worked hard for my money that night. Every possible permutation of pleasure, however small, I lavished on Kruin with convincing sincerity.

 

"Stay with me tonight," I said.

 

"I can't. It's not allowed."

 

"They won't know. We'll be quiet. Stay. Please." It didn't take long to persuade him, but then, it was cold outside and a long way back to the inn where he was staying. We lay together, on my new rug by the fire. I smoothed his animal skin, murmuring endearments. He lapped it up. "Be ouana for me," I said, "I want to know you that way."

 

"It's not what I come here for," he answered, but I knew he was pleased. I sneaked him out in the early morning through the kitchens. We had hardly slept. Because I had the following evening free, I asked him to meet me in Fallsend. He hesitated and took my hand. "Where is this leading, Calanthe?" he asked, not totally stupid.

 

"I like you, Kruin."

 

"It's not just that, is it."

 

"Will you meet me?"

 

He rubbed his eyes with one hand, sighed. "Alright, but you must tell me what you're up to. I wasn't born blind, Calanthe." I kissed him. "Trust me," I said.

 

He shook his head, smiling. "I hope I don't regret this," he said, and trudged away, pulling his collar higher up his neck against the cold air.

 

I learn from him constantly. His goodness rubs off on me like an ointment, into my skin. The blackness just sinks in deeper. Pell has Thiede 's blood in his veins now. Thiede the mysterious; too powerful, too cunning. What interest does he have in Pell? I shouldn 't have let it happen, but Seel thought I was being too paranoid. "Pell will be incepted by Thiede, "he said to me and then couldn't understand my fears. "Won't this be an honor?" "No, a travesty!" a voice screams inside me, but only inside. Now my Pellaz is Wraeththu, but he is Thiede too and I am afraid for him. He possesses a taint of ancient wisdom, a taint of feyness. In the moonlight he appears transparent, touched by death. I am mirrored in his eyes; pure and clean. Oh Pell, we must be together always. Without you, I might go back. No, no, not that, not the darkness, the time of blood. And now I mount the stairs in Seel's house, dressed in white. Dusk is past us; now is the night. I have bathed in milk and perfumed oil. I have been blessed, kissed with sacramental balm upon lips and breast and phallus. My part of the inception is nigh. Pellaz is waiting for me. I have sat for an hour with Seel on the window-sill at the back of the house. The air was warm there. Seel smoked a cigarette, which was torture for me because I could not. Until this is over no stimulant, of any kind, must pass my lips. Seel and I were once chesna; perhaps we were remembering those times, although we did not speak our thoughts aloud. But memory certainly prompted the remark, "He seems so small, Cal, so fragile. Be careful not to hurt him. This is not the City. " I did not answer him. Seel is wrong. I am incapable of hurting Pellaz. Not in that way. Now the bare wood of the stairs is creaking beneath my feet and I enter his room, and shut the world away from us. In our universe Pellaz is a radiant star, luminous skin, lambent eyes, power that leaks from his pores. I have been yearning to touch him for so long, now the moment must be savored, prolonged before I do. His body surrenders for the first time, and I watch him discover the delights of his new being. He forgets he was once human, forgets he was once male. We take aruna and we are invading each other, cautiously and reverently. This is not the city. Zack is dead. My flesh twinges at the memory of the savage bite. I hear laughter, but it is far away. Now I will weep inside because of the simple, giving pleasure we enjoy. There is nothing beyond Saltrock. This is sanctuary. It is not safe to leave. I vow to keep us there.

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