The Wraeththu Chronicles (57 page)

"What, us two sitting here?"

Leef did not smile. "Everything," he replied. He looked at my hands resting selfconsciously on my knees for several minutes before he dared to take one of them in his own. "Pampered hands," he said. "Aren't you afraid that Thiede will come and make you work for a living?"

"No," I answered. "Does everyone think like you?"

Leef shook his head. "I don't know. I shouldn't be talking to you like this."

"Because of my father, I suppose! Do you really think I ever talk to him properly?"

"Don't you?"

"No, not about real things. We may discuss the condition of the meat at table, or the weather, or horses, but not much else. I think I am just a possession to him; like this house, like my hostling. Can houses or whores have opinions?"

"Swift!" Leef exclaimed, hurriedly scanning the hall to see if anyone had heard me.

"Can you deny that it is true?" I asked.

"Stop this conversation, stop it!" he said in a low but vehement voice. "We must be happy!"

"Alright," I agreed. It must be Cal infecting me, I thought. Perhaps I was becoming more like him, talking as he did. Was it me that had started this conversation? "I want to find out what my father thinks of you," I said and Leef looked at the floor and smiled. He knew what I meant by that.

Someone called my name and then Gahrazel was breathless on the stairs beside me. "Swift!" he said excitedly. "Come back into the drawing room. Now!"

"Why?"

"I think it will happen tonight," he answered mysteriously.

This was a kind of code between us. Ever since Cal's memory had been restored to him, both Gahrazel and I had been anticipating the day when Cal would give himself a shake and lower the defenses he had constructed against my father. It had always seemed inevitable. We could tell that Cal was naturally a sensual creature, and, although I thought that he had grand, if futile, designs on Cobweb, Cal would one day respond to my father's advances. I could not understand what was holding him back now. Terzian had never given up, and sometimes, his subtle, essentially Terzian method of wooing became rather too blatant; through sheer desperation, I think. Everyone knew, yet my father had not become angry. Another puzzle. Being made to look foolish was not a state that Terzian normally accepted gladly.

Leef followed me reluctantly back into the drawing room, with Gahrazel lending the way. I was suddenly angry at Gahrazel's eager curiosity, that all this was so entertaining to him. What was happening was a stately dance that had fallen into disorganization; it was not a joke.

My father was standing by the fire, leaning on the mantelpiece, caressing an empty glass, talking to the Kakkahaar. Cal was listening to Swithe on the other side of the room. Disappointed, I turned to Gahrazel. "I thought you said that—"

"Hush," Gahrazel interrupted, smiling, both hands on my arm. "Just watch them; absorb the atmosphere. You'll see." Still laughing, he sauntered away, no doubt to find a good viewpoint in the room.

"What are you up to?" Leef asked, once more nervously scanning faces.

"Oh, the Big Thing is about to happen," I explained. Leef shook his head.

"Is it? Will it hurt?"

"Who knows!"

I looked at my father. He is lithe, I thought, and tonight he looks so young. His heavy, golden hair was falling into his eyes. He raised his hand to push it back and glanced quickly across the room. I felt that look pass straight through my body like an arrow. I did not have to turn my eyes to Cal. I felt it. My father was like a stranger, no longer familiar to me. My head began to swim and I realized I'd knocked back two glasses of sheh without noticing. Is this what it's like? I wondered. This power, this hidden fire? Is it waiting for me some day? I looked slyly at Leef. Will it really be you . . . ?

"I've drunk too much," I said and Leef glanced at me sharply. He was so uncomfortable; I felt sorry for him.

"Swift . . ." he said and I could not see all of his face, only his mouth talking or his gray eyes, but not together.

"What?"

"I want to . . ." He put his fingers lightly on my mouth and shook his head. "Terzian's son!" he said and smiled.

Now it was me that felt uncomfortable. "I want to watch my father," I said. Leef followed me over to the sofa and we sat on the floor.

"Do you often watch your father?" he asked, wondering what kind of joke I was playing on him.

"Never!" I replied. "Leef, have you ever wanted Cobweb?"

"Stop it!" Leef hissed in a low voice.

"Another thing that is Terzian's. . . . He is smoke and ivy."

"And you are three-quarters sheh at the moment!"

"This is how we live; we are all quite mad. Don't be annoyed with me."

Leef shook his head and drew his mouth into a thin line.

I could see Cobweb talking to Ithiel, and his face was white and wild, his hair unbound, which always signified that he wanted to feel his own power around him. Ithiel looked as if he knew that he might have physically to restrain Cobweb before too long. Has anyone else noticed? I wondered. Desire in the air, so strong, it smelled like burning. I could feel it in my lungs, my head, behind my eyes. How can they stand it? I thought. Their need for each other is another being in the room, almost visible.

Eventually Terzian could stand it no longer. I saw him put the empty glass down slowly on the mantelpiece, rub his face, glance once more at Cal. He excused himself politely to the Kakkahaar, and began to make his way across the room, stopping to exchange brief conversation with other hara, smiling, gracious, signalling the staff to bring more drinks. As he passed me, he looked down and grinned and I grinned back; but we were strangers. I had no part in this event.

Cal was standing quite near to where Leef and I were sitting. I heard my father say to him, without deferment, "I have been waiting for you," and Cal's reply, "Yes, I know."

There was a pause, then Terzian said, "I know what happened while I was away."

"Of course you do, Terzian. You know everything," Cal replied, rather coldly. "What surprises me is that you haven't mentioned it before."

"Hmm."

They were so awkward with each other I began to think Gahrazel had been wrong. Leef said, "What's the matter?" but I waved him to silence. My father said, "You're still afraid, aren't you?" 1 could imagine Cal shrugging but I dared not look around. "Afraid? Not exactly. Alarmed, perhaps. I expect your terms haven't changed."

"Terms?" Terzian's voice was raised, then he remembered he was in a room full of people, some of whom had turned their heads. "I am not so callous," he said quietly.

"You are! You know you are."

"You know how much I wanted you before. It wasn't just to sire harlings with you, perfect though they'd be . . ."

"But it's part of it, Terzian. Why can't you admit that?"

"Admit it?" My father's voice was almost sad. "You're a fine one to talk about admissions. Maybe you should admit to yourself that you're made to host sons, to sire them. You are Wraeththu. Admit that, Cal!"

Can no-one hear them? I wondered. Leef was staring at the carpet while my blood was in flames. Cobweb was a thin ghost, distant and in chains. My father said, "I would never hurt you, Cal."

"I know that."

"It's in your blood; you need me. It's been too long."

"I know that.... There is one thing you must do." I heard the steel come into his voice, but I knew, if I looked, his face would be innocent. Sensing triumph, my father said, "Yes, anything, anything." There was a brief silence and I knew that Cal was looking around the room, making sure the right people were watching.

"If you want me, you must prove it. Nothing sordid. I think I deserve the status and demand recognition of my position."

"Cal, what are you talking about?"

"Don't laugh, Terzian. I know what your people think. Cobweb is like your queen. He's respected. I don't want anything less."

Perhaps it was only me that knew Cal cared nothing about things like that. This was just another move in the game and, of course, Terzian would fall for it, because it was the language he understood. Cal said, "Terzian, I want you to take me in your arms."

"Here?"

"Now! Share breath with me, here. Let them all see. I must be equal to Cobweb, nothing less."

"Is that all?"

All! I thought. Their embrace will take the form of a blade, more than one; ten. Who will lie face down on the bloody soil, pierced by swords, now? Terzian's consort, to be shamed before the elite of Galhea, that's who.

I sensed the silence fall around me and realized I had closed my eyes. I heard Leef mutter, "Good God, look at that!" His surprise was tempered by amusement.

The first thing I saw was Ithiel, trying to hold a feral Cobweb in his arms. Cobweb, with eyes like black saucers full of obsidian fire. He made no sound, struggling silently. I could not turn to look. I stood up, Leef tried to pull me back, he made some palliative sound, but I did not listen. I went straight to the door, across the carpet, past the faces who did not see me, a hundred miles away.

In my room, alone, sitting in darkness, I licked tears from my face, listening to the noises downstairs. There was still laughter, the buzz of voices, perhaps more so than before. The tension had disappeared. I voided my mind, letting it become a great and silent blackness, and into that emptiness I formed my hostling's name. Before too long, I heard the door open behind me and light from the corridor shone into the room. "I had to walk past your father's door," Cobweb said.

"Already?" I asked and my hostling nodded silently. I must have been sitting alone for longer than I thought.

"You did this!" I pointed out cruelly.

Cobweb shut the door. He leaned upon the door and slid down it. I wanted to go to him, but I had no energy. I couldn't tell how I felt about anything any more. Cobweb was crouched against the wall, his hair touching the floor, beaten in so many ways.

"What is happening?" I asked the room.

"If it should happen tonight, then we shall feel it. We shall feel the soul when it comes . . ." Cobweb's voice was a whisper in my head.

I uncurled my feet from under me, touched the window with one hand. It was cold, much colder than the room.

Cobweb didn't resist when I went to help him up. He felt light, as if all his substance had drained away. I could smell moss in his hair. I led him over to my bed and he lay down on it. Standing there, I looked at the spidery, dark locks creeping over my pillows, his face that is a wood-creature's face, and I thought, So many times Terzian has stood as I am standing now and seen that lying there. Then I thought, My father is so greedy! and then, No, he is just very fortunate!

"Has the spring come already, Swift?" Cobweb asked. "Is it all over?"

"Not for you," I answered.

Cobweb laughed, an ugly, bitter sound. "It is the real magic that comes from within," he said. "We are all under its spell. It destroys us, yet we need it. ... We should have destroyed it first. We are all tangled up, here in Galhea. We're not reaching out."

I understood some of what he was trying to say.

"It is said we are getting caught in the same traps that men once set for themselves," I said, and Cobweb sighed.

"We are all spiders; without the webs we cannot feed."

"You tried to kill him, didn't you?"

Cobweb turned his head slowly on the pillow, dark and lovely as a velvet poisonous flower. "I think my child attempts excuses for what has happened. Cal does not want Terzian. He seeks only to attack me. I need your support, Swift. Where is it?"

1 fell to my knees beside the bed and took his long, cool hands in my own. "Cobweb, it is not a question of support! You tried to kill him! You're intelligent enough to realize that this is only the most predictable of reactions. You caused it yourself. You should have let well alone."

Cobweb threw his arms over his eyes. "I hate him! He makes me let darkness into my soul! I want him dead!" He sat up, wild-eyed, reaching with clawed hands for my shoulders. "Can't you see what he does to me? Worse than leaving me lonely, he extinguishes the light in me. It is a battle that sometimes I am too tired to fight and I let it come, and I let it take me over and then I hate him and wish him dead and find my hands around the things that could make him dead. He damns me!"

"No, it is you!" I cried. "You damn yourself! It is in your head!"

Cobweb pushed me away as if I repulsed him. "I'm going to Swithe," he said.

"No!" I would not let him stand. "Stay with me!"

"Why? Why should I? When I look at you, I see your father in your eyes; the same madness. You're as obsessed with that dark beast as your father is!"

1 could say nothing. Immediately, "he is right" formed in my head. I lowered my eyes and a pane of ice was between us.

"I knew it!" Cobweb growled, very quietly.

And then emotion was bursting up, like a spire of blood, through my heart. I threw myself against him, curling my arms around him, very tight.