The Wraeththu Chronicles (84 page)

His eyes looked kinder than the last time we had spoken. "I can see yo| have prepared yourself," he said. I did not answer. He indicated the cor tents of the silver plate.

"These buds must be eaten at regular intervals during the day, Swift Their taste is not the most pleasant, but we have brought you plenty of water to wash them down." He took one of the dull gray-green pellet between thumb and forefinger. "You may as well take this first one now"

"What will it do?"

"A slightly narcotic effect; a relaxant... it will help you." By his evasive glance, I gathered there was something more, which he would not tell me. I did not care. Obediently, I took the bud in my hand. "Chew it well, Swift."

The taste was bitter and rancid, reminiscent of a hundred foul things. Even severe chewing could not reduce the fibers to anything that was comfortable to swallow. Arahal offered me water. My eyes were running. "Not too bad, was it?" he asked lightly.

I pulled a face of utter disgust. "Delightful," I said.

He smiled. "We shall come for you later. Spend this day in tranquility and purify your thoughts. Calm your body; be still."

It was a long, long time to sundown.

At midday I forced down another of the nauseating putiri buds, eyeing my diminishing water supply with misgiving. I had been instructed not to leave the pavilion and to spend my time in serene meditation. I did, for a while, but then got bored and started to read instead. My stomach screamed for food, but after the second bud, it did not hurt as much. I began to feel light-headed and could not focus on my book any more. I lay down on my bed, staring up at the swaying canopy, and delightful shivers ran across my flesh. I put my hand to my face and could feel the contact of each pore, each atom. I sighed and could see the vision of my own breath. Two hours later, I ate another bud.

In the late afternoon, as I lay in a contented stupor, I became distantly aware that someone was requesting ingress to my pavilion. I could barely summon the energy to form the thoughtforms to let them in. I was wondering if it might be Seel, but I did not recognize the tall har that came in through the curtains. I would certainly have known if I'd met him before because he was like something from a dream or a vision, or, it must be said, a nightmare. In my drugged state, I could hardly see him; he seemed insubstantial, flickering, shining. His head was wreathed in flame and then I realized it was just his hair, bright scarlet and vivid orange. I decided I was hallucinating and just stared, my mouth hanging open.

Then the vision spoke. "Well, aren't you going to welcome me, son of Terzian?" Such a sound can only be described as the voice of the world. The visitor must be real; perhaps another member of the Hegemony.

"Welcome, stranger!" I slurred and tried to raise my hand. The striking figure glided into the room. "I'm afraid I'm unprepared for callers," I continued in an unsteady voice. "I have nothing to offer you . . ."

"A seat will suffice."

"I'm sorry. Please, sit down."

He did so, crossing his legs, steepling his fingers.

"You must forgive me, no-one told me you would be coming, I don't know your name . . ."

The stranger smiled. A predatory, weirdly inviting smile that for a second brought

Cal's face to my mind.

"I think you may have heard of me," he said. "My name is Thiede."

He waited a second or two to let the impact of this revelation sink in. He noted with satisfaction my gaping mouth and startled eyes. It is a reaction that will never cease to give him pleasure.

"I expect you are now wondering why I'm here," he said and it did not sound at all predictable as it had when Caeru had said something similar. "The reason is simple; I wish to talk to you. You don't have to say anything, Swift, for there is nothing you can say that I want to hear. I don't mean to sound harsh by that, but time is precious to me. Do you understand?" I nodded fiercely, aware that my stupor appeared to have fled. "Now then." He settled down and leaned back. "You know that I had you brought to Imbrilim to have you prepared for the role I wish you to take in Megalithica. You are young, Swift, but flexible. I admire your spirit and your good sense. But that is not what I wish to speak about; Ashmael can deal with all that when the time comes. I am concerned with more immediate ventures. This Grissecon you are to undertake is very important and you must give it your best. I realize it might be a waste of breath to say this, but try not to let your emotions take control of you. There are two extremely crucial reasons for the Grissecon. First, the power of the essence. Its strength will be increased by the intensity of your pleasure. Seel will take care of that. It is your task to please him! Think of that; it may sound obvious, but don't be tempted to let Seel take control. Overpower him, Swift, drown him in his own desire, let the spirit come alive..." He grinned at the effect these words were having on me. "No, you don't really need me to say it, do you. You want to give him your best; how well my plan has worked! Now listen. This part you must understand fully. When the time comes for you to plant your seed within him, you must leave this plane, travel to the upper spheres. It should be easy by that time. When you feel the pull, follow it. You and Seel as one individual. Once you have left this place, you may separate. You must seek the fields of lemon grass. On the horizon will be visible the golden pyramids of Shekh. You will know the place by them. Take aruna together in that higher place and call to the spirit of your son. It will hear you. It must be conceived there. Do you understand?"

I spoke at last. "I don't know ... I will remember the words." "Good. That will be enough." He stood up. "I shall leave you now.There is nothing more to say at present, but I shall look forward to our next meeting. Goodbye, Swift."

Before I had finished my own farewell, the room was empty of his presence. One moment he was there, the next not, in the blink of an eye, so that I doubted whether I had ever really seen him. I could remember every word he had spoken exactly.

I ate another bud, thinking about what the mighty Thiede had said to me. My body was tingling. I felt so powerful, I laughed aloud. Thiede had spoken to me. My purpose, my importance filled the world. Outside, the sun dipped toward a crimson horizon and evening birds called above the canopies of Imbrilim. The air was full of imminence,

tense as pulled threads, pulling me in. My future began here. This was the beginning. This was where it would all start.

Two hara came to bathe me and Arahal was with them, soft-voiced and somber. As they sluiced my skin with salt, scented water, Arahal mumbled incomprehensible prayers above me, scattering dust that looked like ash. I was dried and clothed in white linen, my hair pinned up in a loose coil, my hands rubbed with oil. Arahal said, "Take the lock of hair," pointing at the plate where only two putiri buds remained. I took it. "That is Seel's hair," he told me. "Absorb its vitality, tune in to his vibrations."

"Does he have some of mine?"

"Naturally."

"But how?"

"It was taken some days ago, when my attendant came to dress your hair."

"I did not notice."

"No." I closed my fingers around that small part of Seel and the smell of him seemed all about me like a tantalizing ghost. A smell of spice and clean skin.

"Will we be alone?" I asked.

"Most of the time. Of course, the essences must be collected immediately, but your privacy will be respected. The first time you must not go too far, for the presence of yaloe in the essence may destroy its effectiveness. You will be tempted to break through the seal, but you mustn't. That comes later and is not Grissecon. I hope you understand."

"Yes, Thiede told me," I said. Arahal did not comment. He did not intend to be impressed by that.

"Come," he said. "We must leave now. The moon has risen."

Outside, but for the light of the spectral moon, Imbrilim was in darkness. All the lights were doused, and everywhere was shrouded in eerie silence. "They pray for you," Arahal said. In the center of the camp, in a place that was normally an open space of grass, a pavilion of dove gray had been erected. Multiple folds moved listlessly in the slight breeze. "This is the place," Arahal said. "May the spirit of the Aghama be with you." He placed two fingers on my forehead. "Let this body be strength. Let this spirit be dominion."

I watched as he and his attendants began to retreat, not walking, but imply receding, shrinking in size. For a moment I was afraid, suddenly sober and shivering in the cool air. It seemed I had stepped from the world of reality into one completely unknown to me, somehow threatening. Within the pavilion a siren was waiting for me and I was unarmed, save for The weapons the Aghama had bequeathed me that were supposed to subdue the monster that was the wondrous Seel's desire. My body was all I had and that seemed too frail, too unpredictable to trust. I stared at the place where I must enter, at that place where the gossamer folds writhed and curled. Imbrilim held its breath, waiting. I walked forward.

Lifting aside the drapes, I passed through a narrow corridor of hanging cloth until another door curtain blocked my way. I had to force my hand to move them. My palms were damp, my heart beating painfully fast. The room beyond was filled with the soft yellow-green radiance of two lamps, standing on the floor which was strewn with white fur rugs. In the center of the room was a bed made of plump cushions, blanketed with furs. I walked straight toward it and looked down. He did not look at me; his eyes were closed, his hair spread out like floating seaweed all around him. He was covered by the blankets from the waist down, but by gazing at his chest, his shoulders and his

arms, I could see he was as slim as I'd imagined him to be. Not skinny, but svelte with muscle while still softly curved, the hint of femininity. I thought, Oh God, I can't touch him; I can't! and then he opened his eyes and slowly turned his head toward me and I literally dropped to my knees beside him.

"So, we meet again, Swift the Varr," he said softly and I could see his eyes were partly glazed from the effect of putiri buds. Some of his hair had stuck to his mouth and I reached to pull it away. My fingers touched his lips and I felt a shudder shoot right up my arm. He caught my fingers in his own and kissed them. I spoke his name.

"You are full of mystery," he said.

"Mystery, is that it? I thought it was blight."

He frowned. "Don't say that. Not here. Not now."

I felt as if I had never spoken to him before, yet at the same time felt that I knew him intimately. It was so easy to reach out and stroke his face. He rubbed against me like an animal. I put my hands in his hair as I had longed to do so many times. (Is this real? Is it?) "I have never seen anything like you," I said.

"Then see it all," he answered and opened up the covering of furs as if it was his own skin. I stared, entranced. He seemed to glow. (I must be dreaming. I must be!)

"Do you hate me, Seel?"

"Do you have to ask that?"

"Yes."

He shook his head and his eyes were shining like distant stars. "No, I don't hate you." He reached for me, his face like the face of a person who has seen the lights of home shining out to him through a storm. "Have you waited a long time for this?" he asked.

"Yes, a long time."

"You have searched?"

"I didn't know I was searching."

He smiled. "You were, though, you were. And now you have found." He put his hand upon my face and brought my lips to his own. What I experienced within his breath is beyond words. It left me gasping, as if I'd been drowned, yet I wanted more. I wanted him so much, it was like pain. He laughed and sat up, pushing his hair over his shoulders, easing my arms from my robe.

"We are perfect, we are beautiful," he said and bent to touch my throat with his mouth. His hair fell into my face and I breathed deeply of its fragrance. The touch of his hands upon my shoulders was like being burned; it was hot and it crackled with sparks. Seel, splendor incarnate, covering my body with kisses, dragging his wondrous hair across my chest, my stomach, my loins. His tongue, like a sinuous, questing reptile, exploring every pore of my flesh. As I lay there, shuddering, he raised his head. "It must be the best," he said. I opened my eyes. He looked so serious, his hands behind his head, staring down at me.

"It will be," I answered. "How could it be otherwise? You are the best in the world for me."

I pulled him to me and pressed him back into the cushions. His face was all covered with hair and I tried to push it away. "Open your eyes, Seel. I want to see them."

"Why? Now?"

"This moment!"

I paused then, almost afraid of what I must do, still half convinced I was dreaming. Where would I wake up? Only slight pressure made him swallow me up; color burst all around me. In his eyes, the pupils widened, but his face was so still. Then he said, "God!" and laughed.

"Hush!" I told him. "This is momentous." And it was. It was comfortable, something simple, like slipping into a favorite chair and curling up there. We were perfectly matched, as Thiede had known we were, anticipating each other's thoughts and desires. Usually, during aruna, reality takes flight and it is all a world of dreams, but that time, I was wholly conscious the whole time of where I was, and the sensations were wholly physical. We never stopped looking at each other. I had never looked into another har's eyes at the moment of orgasm before; never. How I made him wait for that, using what Caeru had taught me. When the climax came, I saw colors pulsing inside his eyes, pulsing to the beat of his heart, and there were fires burning deep within. He whispered my name and we were quite still, in our heads, while all that wild sensation flooded our bodies.