The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure (52 page)

‘You expect us to ride these Gelaming monstrosities?’ Tel-an-Kaa enquired icily.

‘Yes,’ Vaysh said. ‘Do not fear. I am quite capable of guiding you all.’

‘Then you will know of our destination, where we are.’

‘We will know of that, in any case.’

Now it was Mima’s turn to push to the front. ‘How much do you know?’ she snapped. ‘Are you aware, for instance, who I am?’

Vaysh fixed her with a stare. ‘No. It is of little consequence to me who any of you are. Please, mount the horses. My time is precious.’

‘But…’ Mima began.

Tel-an-Kaa reached out to touch her shoulder. ‘Hush,’ she said gently. ‘Say no more.’

The Tigron may know many things,
Flick thought,
but he does not know about the Kamagrian. Perhaps he cannot see them as he sees the rest of us. He must be like a ghost, a powerful spirit, but he has limitations. The Pell I knew is dead. I must remember that.

‘Where do you wish to go?’ Vaysh asked Tel-an-Kaa.

‘Roselane in Jaddayoth,’ she replied, with clear reluctance. ‘Do you know of it?’

‘I know little of Jaddayoth. You must send me enough information to find it.’

Flick could tell the Zigane was far from happy about that. Perhaps she feared what Vaysh might pick up if she communicated with him by mind touch, but she had no other choice. They were being given a free ride, and the journey otherwise could take months.

After the reality-splitting experience of otherlane travel, the one thing Flick was sure of was that he wanted to keep his horse. Unlike Seel had in the past, he didn’t find the journey unsettling at all. In the space between the worlds, he felt utterly free, at one with the entity that bore him. Every care of his life fled away from him like a shrieking spirit. He laughed aloud and the sound left his essence in sparkling bubbles, leaving a trail behind him. This, he considered, was pure joy, pure being. It was like going through a spiritual cleanse.

When the horse leapt out into familiar reality once more, Flick was still laughing. His companions’ mounts all slid to a halt, but he kept on riding, galloping ahead. He still felt as if he were flying. He was high above the ground because the horse was so big. They had emerged into the mountainous landscape of Roselane, where spires of stone reared towards a cloudy sky. Eagles soared high above and the land seemed to go on forever, unspoilt and seething with power. Flick heard voices calling him back, but he didn’t care. He could very easily ride off into obscurity now. He had a magical Gelaming horse. He could go anywhere, except that he didn’t know how to pass into the otherlanes. Vaysh had controlled the animals on their journey, perhaps to avoid giving Gelaming power away to lesser hara.

Eventually Flick brought the horse to a stamping halt in a high mountain meadow, a valley between immense cliffs. If this was Roselane, he knew he was going to enjoy staying there for a time. It was like being in the landscape of a visualisation, such as those he’d once visited with Itzama, so much bigger than reality should be. If he went into one of the caves on the rock faces, perhaps he would meet the shaman again.
You see, I have grown. I have learned. I have passed through one of the gates now. I understand. Thank you.

Flick dismounted and led the horse up the valley. It nudged his back with its nose, snorting. Occasionally, it strained away from his grip to graze upon the lush mountain grass, like any normal beast. Although it was huge, and very powerful, it appeared to have a sweet nature. Around them, the trees were bare, and already snow coated the high peaks, but Flick guessed this would be paradise in summer time.

His reverie was cut short by the arrival of Vaysh, who didn’t look angry or impatient. His expression was impassive. He rode alongside Flick for a while and neither of them spoke. Then, Vaysh said, ‘Your friends are upset. You should return to them.’

‘I’m enjoying the solitude,’ Flick said. ‘I haven’t been alone for a long time.’

‘I cannot stay. I must return the
sedim
to Immanion. The creature you rode is not a horse exactly. It is a
sedu
.’

Flick stopped walking and stroked his horse’s neck. ‘
Sedu…
Can’t I keep him?’

Vaysh regarded him thoughtfully. ‘That is impossible.’

‘Pell’s brother stole my horse,’ Flick said. It was a small lie, but perhaps worth it. ‘I think that deserves compensation, and the Tigron can surely afford it.’

‘Pell’s brother…’

‘Yes, the Tigron might be interested to know about him, but then doesn’t he know everything already?’

Vaysh said nothing, but his expression was eloquent.

‘You can tell him Terez is har, as is Dorado, who I have not met. The last time I saw Terez he vowed to find Immanion. Do I take it that quest has not been successful?’

‘It occurred to me that the dark-skinned har in your company was once related to Pellaz,’ said Vaysh.

‘An easy mistake to make,’ Flick said. If he was to take advantage of Kamagrian hospitality, he felt obliged to keep their secrets.

‘He seemed to think I should know him.’

‘He is of high rank among his own tribe, that is all. Is the Tigron planning to meet us face to face at any point?’

‘I have no idea,’ Vaysh said. ‘He is very busy.’

‘I heard he has a consort now.’

‘Yes. Caeru is Tigrina.’

‘And what of Cal? I presume you know of him.’

‘That is not my concern.’

‘You are a mine of information, aren’t you?’

‘I cannot discuss with you the matters pressing upon your mind. If you are so curious about them, perhaps you should have let those who pursued you take you to Immanion. Then, you would have had all your questions answered.’ Vaysh’s scorn was withering.

Flick wished the har would just leave. ‘I want to keep the horse,’ he said. ‘I won’t pry into your secrets. I don’t know how to make him fly. I just want him.’

Vaysh sighed through his nose and for some moments stared at the high peaks. Then, he came to a conclusion. ‘Keep him for now, but I might have to return and take him from you. His name is Astral. He looks to you like a horse, but the
sedim
are more than that, as you have discovered. If you attempt otherlane travel with Astral, it will fail. I will instruct him not to allow it.’

‘Do what you like. It seems to me he can be a worldly creature too. That is all I want.’

Vaysh nodded curtly. ‘I will tell Pellaz of your request. I expect he will grant it.’ He turned his mount around and galloped it back down the valley.

For a few minutes, Flick remained where he was, soaking up the raw essence of the landscape, experiencing the pure dazed feeling that gripped his being. It didn’t feel too bad, that was the thing. His heart felt lighter than it had for years.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Shilalama, effectively the capital of Roselane, had existed for centuries before Opalexian found her way to it and made it her headquarters. A long time ago, human ascetics had formed a community there, entranced by the wind-sculpted rock formations that had created a natural city in the high mountains. An air of spirituality and sanctity permeated the very stones of the city, and it was daily cleansed by pure fresh winds. In this place, Opalexian had sought to create her ideal community, as had many harish leaders. Hers differed in that she foresaw humans, hara and parazha living together, their lives devoted to meditation and self-evolution.

Wishing to remain invisible to the harish population in neighbouring territory, she had employed hara to speak on behalf of her people when the leaders of surrounding tribes had suggested a coalition, which had given birth to Jaddayoth, a union of twelve countries. Many of its hara were refugees from Megalithica, escaping Gelaming control. In the days when Flick and Ulaume first went to Roselane, the coalition of tribes was still very new and shaky. Some leaders within it were keen to establish strong links with Immanion, while others, still smarting from Gelaming interference in their affairs in Megalithica, were radically opposed to the idea. Indigenous hara, spawned from an ancient strand of humanity, were often resentful of newcomers, and many union meetings regularly collapsed into battles as competing leaders fought for dominance. Opalexian’s hand, albeit an invisible one, did much to steer these nascent tribes towards some kind of harmony. The main problem was that each tribe developed swiftly very clear and well-defined religious and political beliefs, most of which were incompatible with one another. Ancient customs still prevailed in many areas, because the now ousted human population had adhered to shamanistic roots more than most. Empires had risen and fallen over the centuries, but the spirit of the land was very strong in that place, and had shrugged off human depredation. With the advent of Wraeththu, it had come into its own.

Spring came softly over the mountains, stealing up the slopes where a galaxy of white flower stars appeared overnight. When the sun shone in the afternoon, it conjured drowsy insects from their sleep. The air became dreamy, as the season flowed towards the intoxication of summer.

Flick rode Astral slowly on his patrols, shunning the company of others. He had the life he’d always craved: a normal safe life. After they’d arrived in the city, Tel-an-Kaa had taken them to an unoccupied house and told them it was theirs. It was a two storey dwelling with sprawling low-ceilinged rooms and a good-sized yard at the back, planted with mature trees and plants. The Zigane had found jobs for them and had helped them settle in. Ulaume, being good with his hands, now worked at the Shilalama pottery: their home was full of utensils they’d never need. Even though the Roselane were a peaceful tribe, they were not foolish, and understood the importance of guarding their territory from hostile intruders. Flick was now such a guard. He had the best horse in Shilalama, which could climb with the nimbleness of a mountain goat.

Despite the Zigane’s earlier words to Lileem and Mima about how Opalexian might want to talk to them, no summons came from her palace, Kalalim. The newcomers quickly found out that Opalexian was rarely seen by any of her citizens. She obviously was not intrigued enough about the Tigron to question those who had met him. Or perhaps there was nothing they could tell her that she didn’t already know.

Flick and his friends were absorbed into Roselane society, seamlessly and without effort. They were not regarded as more special than any other inhabitants, and this suited them completely. In Shilalama, Flick was just another har, and was expected to work for the community. He could enjoy simple pleasures and did not have to hide behind a disguise of dirt and rough clothes. There was nohar in Shilalama who would try to control or own him.

In this land, he could walk once more the path to the dehara’s altars. He had made peace with Aruhani. The Roselane were very interested in all he had to say about the gods. During the first winter Flick and the others spent in Roselane, a rather gaunt har named Exalan had come several nights a week to their home and wrote down every story that Flick could think of, Lileem adding her own details as they talked. The Roselane were keen to keep a record of every tribe’s belief system, and Exalan worked for Opalexian, and therefore the high temple of the city. Ulaume had to tell Exalan all about Hubisag, but Flick knew there were a lot of less savoury details left out of the account.

One night, lying in Flick’s arms, Ulaume said, ‘Isn’t it strange, how far we’ve come.’ And he meant in all senses.

‘Do you ever think of Lianvis?’ Flick asked.

‘Not for a long time. Do you ever think of Seel?’

‘Hardly,’ Flick replied. ‘It all seems so remote now.’

There was a silence, then Ulaume said, ‘What about Pell?’

‘I like to think he respects our decision. He’s left us alone.’

‘I didn’t make a decision,’ Ulaume said and there was bitterness in his voice. ‘I wonder whether Cobweb has told him about me.’

Flick didn’t want to talk about such things. The moment Astral had jumped out of non-reality into Roselane was the moment when Flick’s life had changed for the better. The otherlanes had purified him. He did not want to shut out the past entirely, but neither did he want to dwell upon it. Lying there, he realised he felt so much more serene and complete than Ulaume did. It made him feel sad and protective.

‘Are we chesnari, Flick?’ Ulaume asked, a wistful voice in the darkness. ‘Is that what we are now?’ There was a kind of finality to the question.

‘You are my life partner, and I can’t imagine life without you, so if that’s chesnari, then yes. I suppose so.’

‘Good,’ Ulaume said. ‘At least that means I did
something
right.’

‘Lor, you did many things right. Don’t be sad. There won’t be many hara on this planet who didn’t do things in the early days they’d rather they hadn’t.’

‘I don’t regret any of what I did,’ Ulaume said. ‘I haven’t become a pious Roselane ascetic, Flick. I wouldn’t be who I am without my history.’

That made Flick think of Cal, a thought he attempted to banish at once.

‘No doubt it’s the same for him,’ Ulaume said, and Flick realised his thought, though swiftly quashed, must have been very loud indeed. After some moments, Ulaume said, ‘I just wish I hadn’t been so stupid with Pell. I really do. Now, he’ll never know who I’m capable of being.’

That sounded like regret to Flick.

Sometimes, Flick wondered whether Astral missed the otherlanes and creatures of his own kind. He knew now that Astral was not a horse, but something that looked like a horse. He told everyone else that Vaysh had taken out of the beast all the things that made him different, but that wasn’t true. Vaysh had indeed limited the extent of communication Flick could have with the creature, but Flick was still sure that when he thought in pictures, Astral understood some of what he was saying.

One morning, they went for a bareback gallop in one of the high meadows. Flick let Astral have his head, and he was clearly in the mood for spring, because he kicked up his heels a few times and nearly bucked off his rider. ‘Hey,’ Flick said, jerking the reins to remind Astral he had a rider. ‘Don’t be mean.’

Astral skidded to a halt and then turned his head to regard Flick with a dark intelligent eye, a lock of his pure white mane hanging over it. If anything, he was the harish equivalent of horse, because surely no normal animal could affect such a seductive expression. Flick sighed and jumped to the ground. He unbuckled Astral’s bridle and smacked him on the rump. ‘Go run, then. Have fun. Find yourself a mare.’

Astral walked around in a circle for a while, sniffing the ground, then with head and tail high, charged off up the valley. Flick knew he’d return in a few hours.

Lileem had packed Flick a generous lunch, a task she had begun to undertake on a daily basis for the whole household recently, as she had become experimental with sandwiches. Now, Flick carried his satchel up the side of the valley, to a rocky platform. Here, he would lie down and stare at the sky for a while. When he was hungry, he would eat. Could life get any better?

Flick stretched out his body on the warm rock, his face wreathed in a contented smile. He listened to the breeze that blew over the higher crags, to the cry of birds. There was nothing else to hear. He was asleep when the shadow fell over him.

‘Flick…’

He awoke at once. Mima had come to him. Something was wrong. He jumped up and turned quickly, facing a figure that was limned against the sun. Not Mima.

‘Terez…?’ He couldn’t have found them there, surely?

‘No, Flick… it’s me.’

Clouds were moving to conceal the sun. The weather could change so quickly. ‘
Pellaz
?’

‘Yes.’

Flick walked warily around the ledge until the sun was behind him. Perhaps he was still asleep and a stray dream from the past had come to haunt him. But maybe Pellaz really was there, a radiant creature beyond all imagining, a divine version of his former self. His skin was golden brown, his hair a glossy black mane to his waist. His face and body were so perfect, Flick thought, they could have been grown in a vat. Perhaps good living could do that to a har. Flick found himself laughing: the idea was too ridiculous. ‘It can’t be you,’ he said.

‘Why not? Because I haven’t come to you before?’

‘I didn’t expect you to. Our lives diverged dramatically. You didn’t have to come.’ He hesitated. ‘
Why
have you?’

Pellaz folded his arms. ‘I remember you so well, that innocent little thing at Saltrock. Not that I wasn’t an innocent little thing either. If either of us had known…’ He shook his head. ‘Somehow, I thought you’d be the same, which is stupid, considering how much I’ve changed.’

‘Time doesn’t stand still,’ Flick said. He felt light-headed. This conversation was unreal. ‘The Gelaming have made a magnificent har of you, Pell. But then, that is what the rumours have told us.’

Pellaz grimaced, as if made uncomfortable by the compliment, although Flick suspected he was merely being modest. ‘I’ve thought about finding you for a long time, Flick. But in some ways, it didn’t seem right. All that I had, and was, had gone. I realised you might not want to be found. Seel told me you left Saltrock, after…’

‘Don’t,’ Flick said. Should he talk to the Tigron like that? It seemed the world was breaking apart like smoke before a rank wind.

‘I know,’ Pellaz said. ‘I’m not here to rake over old coals. I’m here because…’ He sighed. ‘I’m not a very good liar, even now.’

‘I heard you’d become quite good at it.’

Pellaz shrugged. ‘Occasionally.’ He pulled a comical face. ‘Don’t look at me that way. I’m still me inside, despite everything. Remember the good times, Flick. Those were fine days.’

Flick sat down with his back against the cliff. His legs felt unsteady. ‘I have fond memories too. If we have to dwell on anything, let’s concentrate on them. Are you here incognito, having escaped your viziers and generals for a while?’

Pellaz sat down beside him. ‘Something like that.’

‘What’s it like being Tigron?’ He clasped his hands around his knees and hoped Pell didn’t notice how much he was shaking.

‘Hectic most of the time. It’s like a dream.’

‘Were you really dead?’

‘Apparently. I can’t remember. I just woke up one day and my whole life had changed.’

‘I spoke to you in a dream once. You said you wouldn’t remember it.’

Pellaz laughed.

‘How did he do it?’ Flick asked. ‘Everyhar says Thiede brought you back from the dead. We heard your head was blown off. Your body was burned. That was just a story, right? What really happened?’

Pellaz regarded him carefully. ‘I’m not sure. I
was
dead for a time, only it’s hard to believe. I can’t remember it. Thiede is very powerful. He called me back and created a body for me.’

‘Nohar can do that.’

Pellaz shrugged. ‘Well, here I am, so I guess they can.’

Flick reached for his satchel. He felt so disorientated; he needed something earthy and real to steady himself. ‘Are you hungry? I have lunch.’

‘Good.’

Flick began to unwrap Lileem’s package. ‘How did you get here? I mean, where’s your
sedu
?’

‘I let him go to find Astral. That was how we found you, by the way. Peridot homed in on Astral. There were good friends. Now, he has no friends but you.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Flick said. ‘I wanted to keep him. Did Vaysh tell you your brother Terez stole my other horse?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you met Terez yet?’

Pellaz appeared distinctly uncomfortable now. ‘No. Thiede thinks it would be awkward. Terez does not fit into the picture very well. You know what it’s like, Flick. We have to cast off our human lives. Terez is part of that, and much as I’m curious to see what kind of har he is, we’ve heard bad reports. That’s sad.’

‘You wanted me to find your family,’ Flick said. ‘I did. I upheld my promise.’

‘I realise that,’ Pell said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you to do so, but I was young, newly incepted, and the past wasn’t that far away then. I appreciate your loyalty though.’