The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure

by Storm Constantine

  ‘I haven’t thanked you properly for what you did,’ she said.

  ‘That’s OK,’ Pellaz said. ‘Everyhar’s been preoccupied with other things. I don’t need thanks. Glad to help.’

  ‘There’s one more thing I want to ask you,’ Lileem said.

  ‘Ask.’

  ‘When we go to Galhea, it’s not Shilalama, is it?’

  ‘Well no, of course not.’

  ‘So you wouldn’t really be breaking any promises to Opalexian if you took your brother there.’

  ‘Lee…’

  ‘No, don’t just refuse. I want to talk to him, Pell. It’s unfinished business. I don’t intend to do anything stupid.’ She didn’t know what she intended. She dared not think.

  Pellaz stared at her, but she could not meet his eyes. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked. ‘You don’t look it.’

  ‘I’m sure. Please ask him.’

  Pellaz rubbed his face. ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. I can’t make a decision now.’

  ‘It’s important to me. Very important.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll think about it. You should know that, despite everything, and the way Terez seemed when he left here, he would like to speak to you too.’

  ‘Has he asked you something similar?’

  Pellaz didn’t reply. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. You’ll have to wait and see.’

  The next morning, Lileem went early to Exalan’s office and requested an audience with Opalexian. The Kamagrian leader consented to this, perhaps imagining Lileem wished to discuss her forthcoming new role. Few hara or parazha could simply walk into Opalexian’s quarters and ask to see her, but the Sarestes were exceptions. Lileem reflected that Opalexian had become a lot more accessible in general since they’d first moved to Shilalama. That could only be a good thing.

  Opalexian received Lileem in her morning room and there Lileem made her request. She asked for the bowl she had brought back with her from the otherworld.

  ‘Why do you want it?’ Opalexian asked.

  ‘Because I’m leaving Shilalama soon, and I want to take it with me,’ Lileem said. ‘I know it’s an important artefact, simply because of where it came from, but I need it to remind me of things, that’s all.’ She risked a smile. ‘If ever I’m tempted to be bad, I can look at that cracked old thing and count my blessings. It has sentimental value.’

  Opalexian regarded her keenly. ‘Are you happy now, Lileem?’

  ‘Yes. I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me. I want to work for Kamagrian to the best of my abilities. I won’t disappoint you.’

  Opalexian continued to stare at Lileem for several long, excruciating moments. Then she went to a cupboard in the room, took a key from the pocket of her robe and unlocked the cupboard door. She took from within it the cracked stone bowl.

  Lileem swallowed with difficulty. The sight of the artefact made her head spin. She could remember everything so well.

  ‘I know you are bright,’ Opalexian said, holding up the bowl before her and turning it in her hands. ‘I wish more parazha were like you, Lileem. Many are troubled and damaged and afraid. You are something else, and I think it’s because the good hara who brought you up gave you such love and care. Many of your sisters do not enjoy such fortune. You are what they all should be, I think.’

  ‘I know I’m lucky,’ Lileem said. She licked her lips. They felt as dry as shed snakeskin.

  Opalexian turned to her and held out the bowl. ‘Take it,’ she said. ‘Tel-an-Kaa speaks well of you too, you know. You could be one of our brightest stars, Lileem. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘I won’t.’ Lileem took the bowl. It was icy cold in her hands and surprisingly heavy.

  Opalexian nodded thoughtfully. ‘Good. Kamagrian need parazha like you.’

  Don’t do this to me, Lileem thought and knew then that even without mind touch, she and the Kamagrian leader were having a secret conversation.

  Opalexian took Lileem’s face in her hands and kissed her brow. ‘Go with my heart,’ she said. ‘Go, my pioneering daughter. Have faith. Be strong. I am often not a good mother, but I know when it is time for chicks to flee to the nest, to follow their own path.’

  Lileem felt tears gather in her eyes. I don’t want to have to do this, she thought, and yet I do. ‘Goodbye,’ she said.

  ‘May the dehara go with you,’ Opalexian said.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Seel realised he was extremely nervous of seeing Flick again. He knew of Flick’s continued antipathy towards him and had been aghast when Pellaz had voiced the request concerning Aleeme’s feybraiha. That was the Tigron’s work, Seel was sure. Pellaz didn’t like loose ends and when he had the opportunity to interfere in a matter and put it right, he generally took it. He was like a more benign version of Thiede.

  The party from Shilalama arrived mid-morning, and Cobweb was with them. Seel was sitting in a sun-soaked sitting room in Forever, on the edge of his seat, fraught with nerves. When the portal opened and the sedim poured through into the garden from the otherlanes, Seel did not move. He heard Swift’s office door open and close. He heard his chesnari’s footsteps across the great hall of the house and the front doors creak wide. He heard voices. Greetings. Go out there, he told himself. It’ll be more difficult later if you don’t.

  Without further thought, he rose to his feet and left the room. Swift had already conducted their guests into the hall. When Swift saw Seel, he came to his side and put an arm around him. All Seel could see was Flick. Everyhar else was a blur.

  You don’t have to worry, Seel thought, the har standing there, just feet away from you, is somehar completely different to the Flick you knew. He is not the one who wept in a lake of blood in your kitchen. He is not the one whose eyes were always dark and wounded. He is not even the scruffy waif you locked away in a room upstairs. He is himself, not your guilt.

  Seel stepped forward, taking Swift with him. ‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘Welcome to our home.’

  Flick inclined his head a little and introduced his son. Aleeme did not look much like Flick had in his youth, although he had similar dark hair. Second-generation hara were very different to their parents. They were never weighed down with the baggage of past history. They stood taller.

  ‘Azriel is out at the moment,’ Seel said. ‘We thought you should all settle in before you meet him.’

  ‘I’ll show you your rooms,’ Cobweb said. ‘They overlook the lake.’ He began to lead the Sarestes towards the stairs.

  Ulaume paused by Seel before following the others. ‘Thank you for this,’ he said.

  Seel shook one of his hands briefly. ‘We are happy to be involved.’

  And it was over, that first difficult meeting. Swift took Seel back into the sitting room and held him close.

  ‘There should be one other here,’ Swift said softly.

  Seel tightened his arms. ‘I know.’ He could not speak Cal’s name.

  Lileem did not like having to pretend to be female, but Tel-an-Kaa insisted. ‘Why can’t I just be har?’ Lileem complained, indicating with disgust the long gypsy skirts Tel-an-Kaa had dressed her in. Lileem preferred trousers.

  ‘We have our job to do,’ Tel-an-Kaa said. ‘You know why we affect the appearance of being human. Stop being difficult.’

  They were staying in an inn in Galhea and later that day would go to Forever for Aleeme’s feybraiha feast. Lileem had slipped the little otherworld bowl into the pocket of her skirt, and now kept touching it. The future was a boiling mass of uncertainty. Her mind was a blank. She felt driven, but refused to think about it. Far easier to worry about the way she was dressed and the way her loose hair got tangled up in everything. Walk past a door and it caught on the frame. Trees would grab her and priceless ornaments would be swept crashing to the floor. Lileem usually wore her hair in braids, but the Zigane said a loose glossy cloud looked more feminine. When she sat down, she sat on the hair and it hurt. She kept forgetting to brush it to the side. I ha
ve Kakkahaar hair, that’s the trouble, Lileem thought. Too damn long.

  She had trained with the Zigane for some months now and had learned how to pick up traces of lost Kamagrian in the ethers and to put out a call to them, a beacon to draw them to safety. There was some satisfaction in this work, because already she had located two wandering souls, who had been confused and terrified, and who had looked upon her a powerful angel of salvation. Tel-an-Kaa praised her efforts all the time. It sounded contrived to Lileem. She sensed what lay beneath it. The Zigane feared Lileem would one day just slip away. Her fears were justified.

  Perhaps in another attempt to keep Lileem from straying, Tel-an-Kaa had initiated a physical relationship between them, and in those moments of intimacy complied with Lileem’s desire for them both to be like hara, to call each other that. Perhaps she looked upon it as an erotic fantasy Lileem had, but to Lileem it was simply the way she was meant to be. She knew she was testing the Zigane, seeing how far Tel-an-Kaa would go to keep her happy. Aruna with the Zigane was like eating dried prunes after having once feasted on ripe plums. It could never be like it had been with Terez, but so what? When plums were out of season, prunes were better than nothing. This metaphor made Lileem laugh whenever she thought of it, which was sometimes at inappropriate moments. She never told Tel-an-Kaa why she was laughing.

  At mid-day, they hired a carriage to take them to Forever. The event would begin with lunch in the gardens, next to the lake. Cobweb had invited everyhar who was anyhar in Galhea, because he thought Flick and Ulaume should meet them. The gardens were heaving with guests, who were all desperate to get a glimpse of, if not a few words with, the Tigron of Immanion. The Sarestes were treated like celebrities because they were friends of Pellaz. Lileem spotted Flick, surrounded by a group of hara, and grinned. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. Poor Flick. He must be hating this. Ulaume was nearby, regaling a troupe of admirers with some anecdote or another. He appeared to be in his element. And there was Aleeme, all grown up and beautiful, casting shy glances at the handsome young har who would later teach him the amazing skills of Wraeththu’s most delicious pastime. Lileem sighed. She should have had a proper feybraiha too. At least she’d had Mima, who was perhaps one of the closest parazha to har. Lileem wished other Kamagrian could be more like her.

  Lileem wandered around the garden, unable to shed Tel-an-Kaa, who stuck to her side like glue. She was looking for Terez, but it appeared that Pellaz hadn’t brought him after all. If that was the case, Lileem wanted to leave. She couldn’t join in with the party spirit, because the event only reminded her of everything she could never have. It would be rude to leave, though. She was here for Aleeme and must remember that, even if Aleeme was too busy to speak to her.

  Mid-afternoon, Pellaz himself conducted a ritual in the grounds of the house to initiate Aleeme into the first level of the Wraeththu caste system, Ara. Not that Ulaume and Flick ever thought about such things. It was probably meaningless, really. How many hara concentrated on learning the magical path, in order to achieve higher levels? Not a lot, in Lileem’s opinion. It was just a pretty ceremony, a preamble to the arunic feast that awaited Aleeme later on. Foreplay.

  Lileem drank apple wine and amused herself by being short with Tel-an-Kaa. The Zigane appeared to appreciate Lileem was troubled, and didn’t take offence, which was hardly the reaction that Lileem had been hoping for. A good row might make her feel better.

  More food and drink was brought out. Lileem stood by the tables and consumed vast amounts of wine. Tel-an-Kaa conversed with hara nearby, but kept casting covert glances back at Lileem as if to make sure she was still there. I’m not going anywhere, Lileem thought.

  That evening, there would be a party with music and dancing. Beforehand, Aleeme went into the house to change his clothes and no doubt receive final instructions from his parents concerning the activities of the later part of the evening, when he would have to return to his bedroom and wait alone for Azriel to come to him. Lileem realised she was so consumed with envy about this that she was literally seeing red. Everything had a ruddy tinge to it, which was not just an effect of the splendid sunset.

  Lanterns were lit in the trees and the great window doors to Forever’s function room were thrown wide to the night. Inside, the house was lit by candles and boughs of evergreen had been fixed to the walls. Displays of white flowers and dark green leaves covered every surface that wasn’t covered in food and drink. The Parsics had spared no expense for their guests. This would be an occasion to remember.

  Lileem stood against a wall, still drinking wine. At last she’d managed to freeze the Zigane off. Tel-an-Kaa had given up with her, and Lileem didn’t blame her. Hara had begun to dance to the reel of pipes and drums. Flick must have been drinking too, because he was smiling now.

  Again I am ghost at the threshold, Lileem thought. I am standing at the edge of the light, looking in.

  She saw Swift bow to Ulaume and lead him onto the dance floor. She saw Aleeme so radiant he looked like a star. Every happy face was like a grinning demon to her. She needed to get away. Empty glass too. Better refill it. She was just about to move away, when her skin prickled unaccountably. She glanced quickly at the doors to the terrace. A tall dark har stood there, gazing round himself. Lileem nearly vomited with shock. It was Terez. He had arrived late. Perhaps Pellaz had instructed him to. He was dressed in Gelaming attire, his black hair shining over his shoulders and breast. To somehar half blind, it would be obvious he was closely related to the Tigron. Pellaz walked across the room to his brother and took him by the arm. He led him back to the high table, where the families of Aleeme and Azriel were sitting. Most of them, anyway. As if this thought was an invocation, Lileem felt a presence sidle up beside her and jumped a little. She turned and saw a fair-haired, bony-faced young har had come to stand next to her.

  ‘You’re having fun, aren’t you,’ he said in a cold sarcastic tone. He was skinny, but somehow good enough to eat.

  ‘Go away,’ Lileem said. ‘Do it now, because this is a party and I mustn’t be impolite. If you stay, I shall be forced to swear at you.’

  ‘It’s a shit party,’ said the har. ‘A shit party for sheep.’

  Lileem examined him for a moment. She was jolted by a sense of recognition for a har she had never met. ‘You must be Cal’s son,’ she said. ‘Tyson. I’ve heard about you.’

  The har gave her a mordant glance. ‘You’re a friend of that Flick’s aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tyson grimaced. ‘And he’s a big friend of Pellaz-tiahaar-wonderful. There are insanity warrants as well as death warrants, you know. One time, Aralis signed one for my hostling. Signed it in blood.’

  Lileem made a vague sound. This was not what she wanted. ‘Oh well, as we all know, first generation are all neurotic. Just thank everything that’s sacred you don’t have to be like them. Look, is there something more interesting we can do? I’m really bored and really drunk. I don’t mean anything roony by that, by the way, in case you were wondering.’

  Tyson sniggered. ‘You’re weird. That’s why I came over. I can spot weird hara really easily, only you’re not har. I asked Kaa about you. She said you’re human. You don’t seem like it. You do seem pissed off, however.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ Lileem said. ‘What do you do for fun?’

  ‘I’ve got some sheh, and some smoking weed. We could go outside and seek oblivion beneath the stars.’

  ‘Better than this oblivion,’ Lileem said. ‘Lead on.’

  She followed Tyson to the garden, stealing a glance at the high table as she did so. Terez was paying close attention to Pellaz, rather in the manner of a devoted hound sitting at the feet of its master, tail thumping against the floor. He must have felt Lileem’s attention upon him, however, because for a moment, he turned his head to stare right at her. Lileem’s body went hot, then cold. She held his dark gaze with her own for a moment, but then Terez’s eyes appeared to become unfocused. He looked right through h
er, and turned back to his brother with a smile. There hadn’t even been a ghost of the past in his eyes, and Lileem was sure he’d recognised her. She felt as if a giant fist had come hurtling across the room and had smacked her in the eyes. She was virtually seeing stars.

  ‘You coming?’ Tyson asked impatiently.

  They went outside.

  Tyson took her to a secluded spot near the ornamental lake. Few hara were outside as most of the guests were dancing in the house. Lileem sat down on the damp grass. She felt surprisingly numb. She didn’t want to weep at all. Tyson sat beside her and began to pack a pipe with smoking mix. As he worked, Lileem admired his slim wrists and dextrous fingers. His pale hair fell heavily over his eyes, and he looked exactly how she’d imagined Cal would look. Her head was spinning a little. It would be a mistake to smoke anything. She’d had enough intoxicants already.

  ‘Is there fresh water anywhere around here?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Tyson said. ‘There’s a stream in the trees over there. Are you OK?’

  ‘Need a drink,’ Lileem said. She scrambled to her feet, ripping her skirt as she did so and then stumbled off in the direction Tyson had indicated. She could hear the sound of running water.

  Her skirt ripped even more as she fought through brambles to get to the water. She was half tempted to take it off completely. When she reached the stream, she collapsed onto its bank, and for some moments had to sit completely still so that her head would stop spinning. Her stomach roiled and then she was being sick into the tall grass. She heaved until she thought her stomach would bleed. Stupid to have drunk so much, really stupid.

  Wiping her mouth, she took out the bowl from the pocket of her skirt. She realised she could see her surroundings quite well, because beams of strong moonlight shone down upon her. When she looked up, she could see an immense full moon through the branches of the trees. ‘Hi, Lunil,’ she said and blew a kiss towards the sky.

  She leaned towards the stream and scooped up some of its bright glittering water with the bowl. The moonlight and the water made the symbols on the bowl’s inner sides appear darker and more distinct. The language of gods, impenetrable and mysterious. Lileem threw back her head and drank. Water ran down her chin, onto her clothes. It ran over her fingers. And as she drank, she felt every symbol, every mark, flow into her. She drank of the gods, imbibed their being. When the bowl was drained, she looked into it. There were no marks on its sides. She uttered a long, ululating howl, like a wolf. Suddenly, life seemed fine again.