The Wraeththu Chronicles (11 page)

Saltrock has a sandy central square. It is often used for various meetings or ceremonies, and also for social gatherings. Everyone clustered there that night. I went with Flick. Seel and Cal had been absent from the house for two days to undergo purification. We all sat in a wide circle around a central fire. Orien, as shaman, conducted the preliminaries and we all chanted along with him. He threw grains into the fire and it flared up blue, When Seel and Cal were brought out to us, magnificent and clothed in gossamer, everyone cried out. We were drunk on excitement and pride. Seel's hair had been unbound from its usual rags and ribbons confinement and it seemed to me as if it had a life of its own; all those different colors catching the light of the fire. Cal was simply the primeval embodiment of Wraeththu, his violet eyes shining like midnight from the first days of Eden. By the light of the sapphire flames and the starcrusted, indigo sky above, Cal and Seel sank down together in the dust. They spoke the language of angels and their draperies blew away, into the fire, crackling up into the air like will-o-the-wisps. The throbbing of drums, hand-beaten, rose up behind the crowd; a deep, passionate growling like thunder. We, the gathered, thumped the ground with our fists, our bodies aroused in tune with the workers of magic. When the moment came for the flower to strike, Seel uttered a cry, strange and echoing and I seemed to see it drift from his mouth like an azure smoke, glowing as if a strong light shone through it. Did I see that? I saw Orien hold aloft a glass ball and the blue vapour seemed to coil into it. Cal stood up. In the flickering shadows, Seel still writhed on the sand, half replete, his hair lashing like angry snakes in the dirt. Orien's acolytes rushed forward to milk his essence into a curling glass tube. Cal and Seel mixed. When they held the tube out for us to inspect, 1 could see it glowing gold and red and purple. Then Orien took it away. He would use this elixir to work on the bodies of the sick and send the soul of the sacred seed speeding out on the ether to do battle. Everything has a life-force; even evil sickness conceived beneath the long eye of the microscope. Back in the square, we thought no more about it for a time. Seel had clawed Cal back to his arms and around us everyone fell to the same activity. I looked at Flick, his little anxious face looking up at me. Only a short time ago, I had felt inadequate beside him. I cupped my hand behind his neck and he closed his eyes.

By morning, it was as if the sickness had never been. I had been shown a little of what we were capable of. In a way, it was hard for me to grasp what 1 had witnessed, hard to believe that it was real. Did I possess this power too? Was it waiting within me? The sickness had gone. One death to remind us; that was all.

As I had pointed out before, I had no particular skills to offer the hara of Saltrock, yet I could not expect to live there without making some contribution toward the town. I turned my hand to many things: working in the strange, lush gardens under the black cliffs, where vegetables and [lowering plants grew with grisly splendor and hugeness; assisting in the const ruction of new buildings (gradually the tents and makeshift cabins were disappearing); grasping the rudiments of vehicle technology (we had several ailing cars to work with, but lacked many of the tools needed to make them run, and what fuel we had was precious). Sometimes, I would climb alone to the lip of the glossy, dark cliffs, the staunch wall of Saltrock, and gaze out over the landscape. In the distance, rough abandoned farmland wrinkled the surface of the Earth; a pale road cut through it. Beyond that I would often see lights winking in the haze or vague movements, One day I would pass that way, and when I thought that, a deep and thrilling wave would shiver me.

In the mornings I worked, but most afternoons were set aside for study. Orien's house was made of stone, small inside and dark. He lived alone. It was rumored that when the first Wraeththu had come to the soda lake, this little stone building had already been there. Lost, abandoned; who had lived there? No bones had been found, but several fine cats were existing comfortably in what was left of the sparse furnishings. Orien said it was improbable that they had built the place. When I laughed at this, I had the uncanny suspicion that he had not been making a joke. Orien often came out with outlandish suggestions that I later regretted having been amused at. Anyway, since the beginnings of Saltrock, the cats had mysteriously multiplied in numbers. By mysteriously I mean that it happened too quickly to have been by natural means. They are now the familiar spirits of Saltrock. When other Hara came bringing with them other types of animal, the cats showed no hostility to the invaders of their territory. How they had lived untended in that cruel, barren countryside, with so little to hunt and eat, is an enigma, as is their philosophical tolerance of other animals.

That was the first thing that Orien and I talked about.

He would give me books to read and then ask me later for my opinions of them. Often I had had difficulty with the language; some of the books were so old. He studied me very carefully as I talked, watching my face more intently than listening to my voice, I thought. Something puzzled him and he told me about it.

"I get a feeling about you, Pell. What is it? What's so different about you? I've instructed dozens of newly-incepted hara, but you. . . . Your beauty is uncanny. It's more inside you than on the surface."

I still could not accept such talk without embarrassment. "No, no, not more than many others," I pointed out quickly. "There is nothing different about me. I was born a peasant . . ."

"You do not talk like a peasant," Orien suggested, awaiting my response.

Something made me say, "It is Thiede," and Orien raised an immaculate eyebrow.

"Perhaps?"

"What is he?" I asked, somehow frightened, like looking into a huge space, dark and cold; somehow sure Orien would know the answer.

"No-one knows for sure," he said, guardedly. "Thiede is certainly different to any other Nahir-Nuri I've met. Sometimes he seems barely even Wraeththu. But then, we are a new race. Those of Nahir-Nuri caste are relatively few at present. One day I shall understand perhaps. However, Thiede has only been here twice before and then never as Hienama."

I was shocked. "You mean I am the first. . . ?" (A memory: Seel surprised. "Him?!")

"Yes," Orien confirmed. "He has never performed a Harhune here before. Yet here he was, as if by magic, when you were ready for yours. Pell, I feel I should warn you, but I don't know what against."

As if by common consent, Orien and I never mentioned Thiede again to each other. By now, I realized it was important to progress, for my own protection perhaps. Aspects of my training would often leave me unnerved, like waking from a bad dream. The first time, for example, that my own unsuspecting mind made contact with another's, filled me with disquieting anxiety. Orien spoke to me without words. He touched my brow lightly and I heard him say, "Rise, Pell, rise . . ." His lips never moved. I tried to communicate back and he laughed and stepped away, telling me that my thoughts were as confusing as a whirlwind. It took time for me to relax enough to touch his mind with calm and confidence. I learned also how to manipulate matter to my will, the concentration for which is exhausting. Many times, I was at the point of giving up, only Orien's soothing encouragement keeping me going. The first time I managed to shift a small cup along a tabletop by sheer willpower alone, I nearly wept with relief. I was learning to flex my muscles, the muscles of my own power. Lack of confidence was the worst handicap, and the first that Orien was anxious to help me overcome. To his credit, through patience and understanding, he succeeded. I studied hard and within six months passed to Neoma. Then Orien told me that I would have to continue my studies elsewhere to ascend to Brynie. Saltrock did not have enough hara of third-level Ulani to conduct the ceremony. I did not want to leave. My life at Saltrock had been nothing other than blissful. I had learned many things and made many friends. When we worked together, I revelled in the shared sense of achievement. I did not want to lose that. Yet I also knew that I must go on. Neoma was

it enough. It was obvious to myself and to everybody, that I had great reserves of ability. I had no intention of letting it atrophy from disuse before I even discovered it fully.

Cal was still obsessed with finding Immanion. Often, when we lay in the afterglow of aruna, curled around each other like sleepy snakes, he would relate at great length all he believed Immanion to be. A place of great beauty, calm and symmetry; certainly a place where Wraeththu had disassociated themselves from the violence and chaos of the world and had built up a superior society, tranquil and affluent. It would be a place of soaring crystal towers, glistening in the brilliance of perpetual sunlight. Cal thought it was somewhere all hara should naturally head for. I was shrewd enough to realize that the Gelaming hid its location because they preferred to seek out themselves the people they wanted within its walls; nobody would ever find it by chance. However, I humored him. It would have been presumptuous of me to contradict him. He would say, "Don't get uppity, Pell, you've seen nothing yet. Saltrock's a haven," if ever I did pass an opinion he considered was founded on imagination. I knew I had acquired knowledge

Cal could never learn, and I also knew where it sprang from. Something made me hide it; respect for Cal was not the least of the reasons.

One day Seel had to go to another town for supplies. It was decided Cal and I would go with him. The time had come for us to go on. We would not return to Saltrock with Seel. On the last night, we had a farewell party in the square. I was nearly heartbroken. It was possible we would never see OUT friends again; anything could happen Outside. Everyone was there. Mur and Garis, lean, gothic and sharp as needles to the end. Mur shared breath with me and I could taste ice and metal. Flick, I could only hug to me, genuinely sorry to leave him. His was a taste of welcoming fire in a cosy room and soft animal fur. He was a true friend, and
 
when
 
the
 
time
 
came,
 
I
 
turned
 
the
 
world
 
upsidedown
 
to
 
find
 
him
 
again.

The fire had sunk low and nearly everyone had drifted back to their homes when Orien bid me farewell. He gave me a talisman, which I still have, of a sacred eye.

"Be strong, Pell," he said, and I could feel tears behind my eyes. It was difficult to speak.

"Only you know . . ." My voice quavered; I could not help it. Orien nodded, firelight shining through his hair, his face in darkness.

"Be wise as well," he said. "The time will come ..." I threw myself against him, my chest tight with grief. "I know, I know!"

Orien knew more of my fate than he cared to tell me, but he could not see all of it. Somewhere, out there, my future hovered like a poison insect. Orien let me weep out my fear.

"After this time, Pell, never show your tears. Never! You are a child no longer."

It was advice I took to heart. In the cold light of pre-dawn, I saddled up Red outside Seel's house. All the windows were dark with farewell, as if we had already gone. Cal had used a little of our money to buy another horse off Seel, bigger and showier than Red, but not as hardy and, surprisingly, not as fast. Seel had been going to use a pickup truck for the journey, but because we were going as well, and on horseback, he settled for a covered cart drawn by two heavy horses. Because it was a slower and more vulnerable method of transport, he took three armed hara with him as protection. All our good-byes had been concluded the night before, and no-one came out to see us off. When I had come to Saltrock my clothes had been barely more than rags covering the gangling awkwardness of youth. Now, when I caught a glimpse of myself in Seel's windows, I realized I had changed beyond all recognition. Gone was the tatty-haired, grubby child with the luminous eyes, bony knees and bony shoulders. I was a year and a half older and a year and a half taller. My hair was still cropped close at the sides of my head, but long down my back and combed high over the crown and wisping into my eyes. Clad in leather and black linen, silver hoops hung through my hair, three in each ear. I spared a thought for Mima and the rest of my family. Would they have recognized me? No. For the essence of the Pellaz they had nurtured had gone. All I retained of my former self was the memory of it.

I had had to leave most of the belongings I had collected behind. Cal refused to waste money on a pack horse. Also, it would have slowed us down. I had not got much, but I was sad to leave it at Saltrock and reluctantly gave it all to Flick. We set off at a brisk trot, down to the farthest shore of the lake where a guarded pass led to the outside world. The rising sun gilded the sulphurous surfaces of the lake; drowsy birds

clustered on crystal spars, gaunt, black shadows. Behind us, a dog barked to greet the morning. I did not look back; never again did I look back.

Greenling was not strictly a Wraeththu town. Men existed in surly, wary alliance with hara. We arrived there, mid-afternoon, three days after leaving Saltrock. The land around it was dry, with desert encroaching from the south, but grudgingly fertile and the Wraeththu folk much more urbane. Two women were walking down the road toward us and one of them recognized Seel. She waved and ran over to us. Seel, being the charmer that he is, has an easy, friendly manner with humankind. The woman jumped up on the cart beside him. I realized with some amazement, even disgust, that they were flirting with each other. The men of Greenling, whether by accident or by commonsense, were clever in their acceptance of Wraeththu. Although their kind were dwindling, they would carry on unmolested and in peace until the end. Needless to say, this was not a common circumstance. In other areas humankind would not give up the idea that they were meant to rule the world. In those places, men and hara fought each other like dogs for territory, for commodities, for fuel. Not many places had the calm air of Greenling, where the two races existed alongside each other, somewhat reluctantly sharing resources.