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Authors: Storm Constantine,Paul Cashman

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

The Wraeththu Chronicles (5 page)

BOOK: The Wraeththu Chronicles
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Later, Flick not only brought me coffee, dark as sump oil but with a surprisingly mild flavor, but cigarettes as well. I rarely smoked at home, but this was a luxury not to be foregone. Feeling clean and relaxed I sat on the bed while Flick brushed out my wet and tangled hair. I began to tell him about the cable farm (how fascinating) and afterwards he told me he had come from a city farther north. His family had been quite rich and he had brought a lot of money to Saltrock with him. Seel had put it to good use, he said. (Yes, I thought, looking again around the room.) I wanted to know what had induced Flick to run away from a home that had obviously been so comfortable, to join the Wraeththu and live rough by comparison. His

 

mouth twisted with thought. "It just seemed ... I don't know . . . right. As if I had no choice. I had to do it. Surely you know what I mean." I did. The Wraeththu of Saltrock seemed remarkably adept at procuring luxuries. Flick implied to me that a lot of what they had was stolen, groups of Saltrock inhabitants going out into the world beyond the desert on looting forays, or else commodities were brought into the community by newcomers. I also felt impelled to explain, with much stammering, just what the extent of my relationship with Cal was. Contrary to what I expected, Flick was not at all surprised. "Of course, you are Unhar," was all he said. Some demon made me ask; "Flick. Cal . . . Seel . . . you know . . . Are they . . .?"

 

Flick gave me a guarded look that melted to a smile. "Now why should you want to know that, Pellaz?" I shrugged helplessly, wishing to God that I had not opened my mouth. Flick patted my face. "Classified information at the moment," he said with a grin.

 

Once Flick had gone, and I had settled, almost purring, into the canopied bed, I thought about Cal. I was wracked with guilt. I had not noticed his exhaustion, his torment. Perhaps Seel was soothing him now. I could not bear to think about it. Seel and Cal. But it was not my place to wonder. I was Unhar. I was nothing. I awoke from habit just after dawn. Outside, Saltrock was stirring. I suppose I must have thought, "What am I doing here?" Thoughts like that did cross my mind a lot at that time, but I became adept at ejecting them. Pale, lemon light filtered in through the gauzy curtains. I lay there, revelling in the comfort and warmth. Only when something moved and touched me did I turn over. Cal was asleep beside me, two cats slumbering contentedly on his chest. It made me jump. I am not a heavy sleeper, yet I had not heard him come to bed. He was frowning, arms thrown up over his head. He always slept like that. I could see the long, white scar on his arm. It was the first time I had looked at him for so long. Usually, he caught me doing it and I turned away. I desperately wanted to talk to him and spoke his name. Wrinkling his nose, he only mumbled and twitched. Never had he looked so perfect.

 

"Cal," I said again. He groaned, half-conscious. "I was talking to Flick last night. Listen!" He sighed. "I am."

 

"I've been a brat. I'm sorry. Flick told me what I am: Unhar, uncaste. I've been so selfish... oh hell!" I could not find the words for what I wanted to say. It all sounded so trite.

 

Cal was looking at me now, thoughtfully, "Pellaz, shut up. Come here." I put my head upon his chest and clung to him. The cats half rose, looking at me with disgust. "Look, I don't keep you in the dark about things out of spite. In two days time, you will take the Harhune. Then you will be Har. Then you can begin to learn, but not till then." His arm tightened around me, the muscles trembling.

 

"You're sick," I looked up at him but he would not meet my eyes. "Like hell. I'm tired, that's all. Don't start, Pell, I can't stand it. And lie still, or you'll be out of that window in a moment. Just go back to sleep, OK?"

 

We slept till noon.

 

We breakfasted, or more truthfully, lunched with Seel and Flick in the kitchen. It was a low-ceilinged, dark room dominated by a huge, black cooking-range. We ate fried chicken and salad. I was curious as to how Saltrock obtained vegetables and Seel explained they had one or two acres of irrigated land behind the town where it was possible to grow things. Flick said it was more like a jungle of exotic flowers; they thrived horribly on the mineral cocktail in the soil. It was true that the food did have a faint acrid tang to it. Flick asked me if I would like to ride out along the shores of the soda lake with him and I accepted with enthusiasm. I had decided to goad him for information.

 

Saltrock, by day, was revealed to be a lot shabbier than I had first imagined. However, everyone I saw seemed to be engaged in some kind of purposeful activity; there were few loiterers. Flick took me on a tour of the town, before we headed out along the shores of the lake. There were no proper shops to be seen, but some of the wooden and corrugated iron dwellings had items for sale spread out beside their doors; mainly mismatched clothing, rather tired-looking canned food with faded labels or crude utensils for the home. I was curious about what was used as currency and Flick explained that nearly all trade was conducted on a barter system, for the simple reason that the majority of Saltrock's inhabitants rarely ventured out into the world to places where money was still used. I realized, with a pang, how isolated my family had been (and still was, no doubt), living obliviously at the edge of the desert, happily unaware of the huge changes stirring across the face of the world. Sefton Richards, of course, must have felt it; locked away in his great, white house; he must have had accurate news of what was going on. Eventually, the crops we'd grown must become unsaleable. What would happen then? I thought briefly, painfully, of Mima and the others and pushed it out of my mind. I was now in Saltrock, a different reality, my life had changed or begun to; the past was gone forever. Flick called out to people that he knew who would raise their heads from whatever work they were engrossed in and wave. Very few of the buildings were anywhere near as grand as Seel's residence, most being sprawling, single-storied and obviously occupied by large groups of Wraeththu. We passed one large, church-like construction in the middle of the town, but Flick seemed reluctant to discuss its function. It was surprising how many people appeared to be hurrying around, laden with building materials or driving animals here and there. What drew them to this place? I wasn't yet sure whether I liked Saltrock or not.

 

It was very hot outside and the fumes stung my eyes. Red made anguished noises through his nose. How exhilarating, though, to gallop through the brittle sands. Strange, lumbering lizards heaved themselves from our path and honking flocks of wading birds lifted from the surface of the lake in alarm. Everything sparkled and crystals of salt formed in ray hair. Flick told me I had better make the most of it.

 

"Of what?" I enquired, shaking the salty locks off my shoulders, making the air glitter.

 

"Your hair, you peacock! You won't have all that for much longer!"

 

I yanked Red to a reluctant halt, fighting with his head. "What?1' My hand fluttered up automatically to touch it, my crowning glory. "Why not?"

 

Flick looked furious with himself. "Oh, don't worry, I spoke out of turn." I must have looked demented; I dreaded being disfigured in even the slightest way. "Oh well, I don't suppose it will do any harm; what I meant was, they'll cut your hair. It's part of the ritual, the Harhune. Like mine, not all of it."

 

"Why?" I squeaked, aghast.

 

"As I said, it's just part of the ritual, that's all. You can grow it back afterwards."

 

"Oh. I see." My hair ... I could remember in the evening, back home, my sister Mima brushing it out for me. "A hundred strokes to make it shine," she had said. Once she had caught me looking in her mirror, admiring and swishing the tumbling blackness, and I can still recall her laughter. "God, you should have been born a girl, Pell." There was a bleak echo to those words now.

 

I pressed Red with my heels. He put his ears back as he skipped sideways into a trot. There was a strained air around us now. I was so prickly, and unconsciously, so vain.

 

Finally, I relented and spoke. "How long have you been . . . har, Flick?" My voice sounded imperious and prim even to me

 

Flick suppressed a mocking smile. "About a year, I think. I progressed from Ara to Neoma pretty quickly. I had a good teacher." I did not ask him who that was as I was obviously supposed to.

 

"What is Harhune?" I said instead, to be awkward. I guessed he was forbidden to answer.

 

He pulled a face. "Pellaz, I wish you wouldn't ask me things. It's so horrible when I can't tell you. Seel would have my skin if I did."

 

Rage ignited in my throat. "Oh, for God's sake!" I cried. "Why is everything so damn secret. Don't tell Pell this, don't tell him that! He mustn't know anything. It's pathetic!" I was sick of the constant air of mystery; I thought it such a pose.

 

"Look," Flick strained to be patient, "tomorrow you will begin Forale. It's a day of fasting before the Harhune. Seel or someone will instruct you then."

 

"Why didn't anyone tell me?!" I raged. "If you hadn't, would I have woken up tomorrow and stuffed myself rigid before anyone mentioned I was supposed to be fasting? Hell, hell, bloody hell!!"

 

"No, no, tonight—they'll tell you tonight!" Flick was unsure of how to handle me, my tempers could be very colorful. I was pleased inside though. The end of my frustrating, innocent unHarness was in sight. I had an idea what the Harhune actually was and I told Flick about it. He denied it vehemently.

 

"Oh, come on," I goaded mercilessly, "it's sex, isn't it. That's what it is."

 

"God, Pell, what cloud are you on?! Sex is important, yes, but it certainly isn't the be-all and end-all of our existence and it definitely isn't what the Harhune is all about. Stop provoking me; I'm not going to tell you."

 

He kicked his pony into a scrabbling canter and darted away from me. Red bucked as I made him catch up. Flick's pony was no match for him. Ahead of us the black cliffs reared to the sky and water thundered down their glistening flanks. Steam roiled about us like smoke.

 

"Flick! I want to ask you another question!" I shouted.

 

Flick screwed up his face again. "Oh no!"

 

"It's not a forbidden one." I sidled Red up against Flick's pony so I Would not have to scream at him. "Did you ever meet Zack?"

 

Flick gave me another of his strange, guarded looks. "Yes. Why?"

 

"I'm just curious, that's all. What was he like?" I tried to keep an insouciant note in my voice.

 

" What was he like? Wild ... wild and reckless. Witty, courageous, fierce, gorgeous ... do you want me to go on?"

 

"Yes. What did he look like?" My heart was thudding; I felt breathless. Flick had warmed to the subject.

 

"He looked like . . . like, I don't know. He was a bit like Cal, only as dark as Cal is fair. High cheekbones, sulky eyes. In a way you remind me Of him; the same temperament I think. That's probably why Cal is kelos Over you. He and Zack were chesna."

 

"Flick," I said, shaking my head at him. "What the hell are you talking about. You must know I don't understand half of it."

 

He grinned. "Yes, I know. Kelos is crazy, chesna is ... well, more than friends." A fatuous smile spread across my face. I could not get rid of it.

 

"Cal is not . . . not kelos, crazy about me, Flick. Surely I'd know if he was."

 

"Sure. Like you know everything else about Wraeththu."

 

I could say nothing more. With an ear-splitting screech, 1 panicked Red into a mad gallop; the stinging, flying air lathering my exhilaration. Tomorrow, tomorrow it would begin. My un-harness would soon be nothing but a frustrating memory. The consequences? Oh, I banished them, what I knew, banished them from my mind. It was too much of an exquisite torment to think of them.

 

Supper was a subdued affair. I avoided looking at Cal, and Flick avidly watched what I was doing. Seel smoked cigarette after cigarette, I had never met such an addict, and Cal looked so glum he did not even notice I was avoiding him. Not exactly a party atmosphere. Surely, we should have been celebrating my approaching Harhune. When we had finished eating, Cal and Flick discreetly left the room. We were in Seel's exotic little salon.

 

"Pellaz, we have to talk," he said gravely.

 

I was feeling edgy and hysterical and wished he would smile. I half knew what he wanted to say, but I still felt stricken, petrified inside. He took my hand. His was cool, long-fingered and dry; mine was shaky and sweaty. He turned it over and half-heartedly examined the palm as he spoke.

 

"You want to be Wraeththu, don't you?" It was not a question and I said nothing, but swallowed noisily. "Tomorrow you can begin your initiation into our way of life. I have to warn you, it will not be easy, and for that reason, you must be absolutely sure you want to go through with it." His dark eyes seemed enormous; I was hypnotized. They stared right into me, peeling away the constructions of ego. I nodded.

 

"I'm sure. I've come this far . . ."

 

"That was nothing!" Seel snorted and let go of my hand, which hit the table like a dead fish. He leaned back into the cushions. I felt foolish. It was all so unreal I longed to laugh whilst still stretched transparent by nerves. "You know very little and, frankly, that is the best way to be. I expect you find it very irritating."

 

"Yes. A bit," I confessed in a quiet voice.

 

"Hmmm. Well, at midnight, tonight, I will take you to the Forale-house. The Forale is what we call the day before Harhune. You will be cleansed and given instructions. You must eat nothing. Do you understand?"

BOOK: The Wraeththu Chronicles
10.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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