Qualia

by Marie Browne

  I stared past Carly’s head and frowned as a dark cloud began to form behind Andromalius. It billowed and flowed, reaching upward and outward, darkening and thickening with each second that passed. Struggling to turn my head, I moved my gaze to the angel Belial had named as Lerajie. The same cloud was forming behind him and all of the others – none of them had noticed their own problems as they were too busy watching the other council members.

  Slowly the edges of each cloud became defined and recognisable. Five huge dragon-shaped clouds of smoke slowly became the stinking, rotting corpses of dragons, then moved on to become living, vibrant and terrifying creatures. Each animal had a ten-metre wingspan and dead, mother-of-pearl eyes. I watched as the council members finally realised what was standing behind them, then screamed and tried to run. I wanted to laugh but I just didn’t have the energy to feel any emotion at all. I felt as if I could see it all happening to someone else and I knew I should be terrified but I just couldn’t be bothered.

  The dragons screamed into the bowl, their open mouths showing glistening teeth and long whip-like tongues that were suddenly obscured by fire. A thundering, screaming inferno swept across the bowl. I stared, incurious, as it howled toward me. The rolling orange and black wave engulfed the floor of the bowl forcing itself into the minute cracks, ripping them open and giving the fire a million paths through which to burn. All three angels brought their wings to bear, creating a shield which diverted the fire away from our group. Smoking and coughing, the angels reassumed their positions. I stared down at my feet. Below my boots the fire raged, flickering within the crystal, rolling like blood within the veins and arteries of the bowl. Dimly I heard Lucifer’s voice.

  ‘Now!’ he screamed. The word echoed above the howls of the burning council as they twisted and turned, each trying to escape the fate Lucifer had created for them. That single word echoed round and round the bowl. Louder than the wind, the chanting, the roar of our own twisting creation and the thunder of fire that single word was so intense I imagined it would have been heard across Hell – and perhaps many worlds beyond it.

  All three angels leapt for the sky. High above our heads they joined and, catching the pink cascade of energy they’d created, stolen and forged, they blocked its upward path and forced it back toward us. With their wings forming a net they plunged to the ground. Faster and faster they fell, pushing the pink wave before them. The energy moved like water back toward the crystal, the angels guiding it, containing it. With a last push they crushed it into the bowl, forcing it deep into the crystal with the sound of a thousand broken vases. I watched as the pink energy merged with the fire already contained within the crystal heart, ripping it into wheels of red, orange and pink. Satisfied with their dive, the angels waited until the last possible second before altering course. Wings outstretched to their fullest, they soared across the floor of the bowl. Galgaliel, heading straight toward Una, veered to avoid her and caught a wing tip on the ground. He tumbled, a catherine wheel of bronze, cream and exploding feathers to land, broken and twisted on the smoking floor of the bowl.

  Parity struggled to turn toward him, obviously intending to go to his aid. However, before she could take a step, the floor began to shake. Gentle tremors began to ripple beneath us. These increased until it became impossible to stand and, still holding hands, we huddled together in a heap.

  The explosion, when it came, was almost silent. It certainly silenced everything around us – or maybe I’d just gone completely deaf … I wasn’t absolutely sure.

  The bowl bulged in several places then heaved upwards vomiting light, fire and crystal shards in a shockwave that wiped out everything in its path. Cracks and fissures split and exploded; some created deep crevices and some created peaks which snapped and splintered, sending razor-sharp slivers high into the air. These were picked up by the still howling wind and sent slicing across the bowl. I watched, dumb with terror, as the glittering wave of natural weapons swept, spinning and twisting, toward us. Belial and Lucifer pushed us flat and, spreading their wings above us all, created a shelter beneath which we huddled. I firmly squashed the temptation to pray; I doubted it would do any of us any good.

  Shards of crystal spun crazily around us until, finally, the whole thing reached critical mass and blasted outward with the roar of a thousand horns, the thunder of runaway animals and deadly soft horror of an avalanche. Then, for a brief moment, there was silence which was shattered by the sharp, single sound of a well-cracked whip. At the sudden sound Carly gasped and screamed as the earth tore itself apart to reveal its very core.

  Crystal shards beneath our feet began to vibrate then flow like dry sand into the fracture. A dull red glow suffused the flowing dust, becoming more intense as everything around us was pulled toward the widening crevasse.

  ‘Shit.’ Belial flung his wings out and none too gently pushed us away from the sucking chasm.

  Lucifer added his wings to the barrier and, between them, they covered us again as we watched every single dull shattered shard, dirt, dust and the blackened corpses of the council members disappear into the ground. Galgaliel, still unconscious, also began to move. Dragged across the stone by the screaming maelstrom he did nothing to save himself. As he slid past, I heard Lucifer swear, then with a lunge he grabbed the healer’s ankle and held on tight. With eyes shut and other hand linked with Belial’s he held fast until, with another grinding crack, the chasm closed leaving only silence, sparse clean rock and a ringing in all our ears that felt as though it would last for ever.

  The two conscious angels furled their wings shut to sit on the ground, both breathing hard. Lucifer was covered in tiny cuts which bled profusely; his eyes were very white in the mask of blood. He sighed, coughed and then fell over to lie on his back. ‘That was actually rather fun.’ He chuckled occasionally when he could muster the breath to indulge.

  ‘Fun!’ Belial rolled over to lean on one elbow. ‘Once again you failed to tell me what you were going to do. We’re lucky to be alive, you inconsiderate, meddling, overzealous, stupid son of a …’

  But it was too late. Lucifer had gone and Graham, staring at his own bloodied hands, ducked as Belial screamed at him. ‘What did I miss this time?’ he wailed. ‘What happened? Why am I covered in blood? What did I do?’

  Carly began to giggle.

  Parity groaned and, staggering to her feet, headed over to Galgaliel. She turned him over, obviously fearing the worst. He, like the other angels, was a mass of bloody cuts and bruises. He groaned and must have said something very unangelic under his breath as Parity looked at first shocked then howled with laughter. Helping him to sit up she gently started to pull crystal splinters from his flesh. He swore at every tug.

  Eventually we all managed to get to our feet and turned to face the silent crowd that had gathered at the edge of the devastation.

  ‘What do we do?’ Graham asked. ‘They don’t look friendly.’

  Belial stared at him. ‘Have you seen yourself?’ he asked. ‘Take a good look at me, and tell me which of us looks more terrifying: us or them.’

  Graham nodded and then, squaring his shoulders, turned to face the sea of shocked faces. We all walked slowly toward the crowd which, in silence, parted like the Red Sea.

  Back at the Fat Maggot we each fell into a bed. It didn’t matter whose was whose, just as long as we all ended up horizontal.

  Keril was waiting for us. He alternated between being horrified at our appearance and irritated that nobody wanted to talk. Still having problems with his leg, he limped over and handed me a package. I stared down at the badly wrapped object in my hands. It was heavy.

  I opened it gingerly to find my knife. ‘Thanks.’ I groaned as I tried to lift my arms high enough to slot it back into its holster. ‘I’d have thought you’d be the one person that would be happy to see this weapon lost for ever.’

  Keril shrugged. ‘It’s not the knife’s fault you’re a complete twat.’ He laughed at my hurt expression and clapped me on the
shoulder, wincing as I howled at the pain. ‘Don’t worry, you seem to be getting over it.’ He limped across the room to sit down. ‘So, come on, you have to tell me what happened.’

  ‘I feel like I’ve been beaten with a stick.’ Parity summed up everybody’s feelings. ‘Let us sleep, we’ll tell you tomorrow.’

  Keril pouted.

  Parity laughed then leant over to gingerly hug him. ‘I’m so glad you’re OK,’ she said and then turned to her brother with a frown. ‘And you.’

  Farr laughed. ‘I take it I’m still in your bad books then?’ He grinned.

  Parity yawned. ‘I’m too tired to hit you right now,’ she said. ‘Remind me I owe you a punch in the morning.’

  One by one everyone fell asleep. Despite being bone tired, something was nagging at me and my eyes kept opening. I sat up and looked around the room. Lit only by a couple of candles all I could see was covered lumps. One, however, was shaking. Listening hard I could just make out sobbing. I got up.

  ‘Carly?’ I sat on her bed and reached out for the covers. ‘What’s the matter?’

  A muffled voice came from under the blankets. ‘Nothing,’ she said.

  ‘Right.’ I tried to pull the covers away from her face but failed when she kept a tight grip on them. ‘Come on, Carly.’ I leant over and spoke into a little gap I’d managed to make. ‘Please.’

  She sat up so suddenly I almost jumped off the bed. ‘After everything that’s happened, it’s pathetic, selfish and really stupid.’ She glared at me, defying me to agree with her. ‘But I’m mourning my hair, OK?’

  ‘What?’ I searched desperately for something useful to say. ‘Come on, it’ll grow back and besides I think it looks really sweet.’

  She rubbed the back of her hand over swollen eyes then back again as she wiped her nose. ‘It’s not sweet. I look like bloody Orphan Annie. Have you any idea how long I’ve been growing this?’

  I shook my head. I honestly had no idea how to be sympathetic about hair.

  ‘Twenty years.’ She sniffed defiantly, trying to keep her voice down. She ticked off points on her fingers. ‘I know it will grow; I know that in the grand scheme of things it’s not important, but I’m tired, I’ve been frightened and I think I just want to have a good cry.’ She stared at me, her big green eyes watery and bloodshot. ‘So just push off and let me get on with it. I really don’t need sympathy or a pep talk.’ She lay back down with a thump and pulled the covers over her head again.

  ‘Carly,’ I hissed. ‘Carly?’

  ‘Oh for the love of …’ Lucifer threw his covers off and stood up. He was wearing nothing but a pair of grey boxers and a long black T-shirt that had ”Come to the dark side … we have cake” emblazoned across the front in bright yellow letters.

  He stamped across the room. ‘You do realise that we’re trying to get to sleep? That even I need sleep, especially after today?’

  He ripped the blanket off Carly. Before she could move he plucked two or three hairs from her head.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelped and sat up. ‘Get off me!’ She stared up at Lucifer and, for a moment, her conviction wavered. Obviously deciding she couldn’t care less who he was, she sneered and lay back down again, pulling the covers over her head once more.

  Squatting back on his heels Lucifer delicately held one short bright red hair pinched between the thumb and forefinger on each hand. Concentrating, he breathed onto the hair pulling his hands steadily apart as he blew. The hair stretched like elastic.

  ‘Arrgh!’ Carly shot out from under the covers once more, her hands clamped to the top of her head. She began to scratch violently. ‘Ow, stop! It’s like ants – stop it!’ She screamed.

  Lucifer ignored both her and the mumbled requests to keep the noise down from the other beds. He continued to blow and stretch the hair.

  Every hair on Carly’s head matched the one in Lucifer’s grip inch for inch. It reminded me of those nature films of flowers opening. For a moment bright orange hair stood out like a giant afro before the weight became too much and it settled, flowing over her shoulders and through her grasping, scratching fingers to pool on the bed, then in her lap and then down onto the floor.

  Lucifer grinned and then, with a last breath, blew the six-foot hair he now held at full stretch away across the room. ‘You look very much like Cousin It.’ He patted her on the head and smiled serenely. ‘You can thank me later.’ Standing up he stamped back across the room and got back into bed. ‘Now for pity’s sake, be bloody quiet.’ Punching his pillow a couple of times he slumped back into his bed with a sigh.

  Carly’s voice sounded a little odd under the pounds of hair she was now using as a tent. ‘That creature has a small tendency to go too far.’

  Reaching forward I grasped a double handful of strangely warm red hair and, with only a little difficulty, flipped it up and over toward her back. Her small face stared wryly out at me, framed by what could only be described as a full hairy duvet. ‘Hello in there.’ I peered into the orange-tinted darkness.

  Trying to sit up she winced. ‘This is really heavy.’ She reached forward and put her arms around my neck then leant forward to kiss me – all sign of tears gone. Pulling away from the kiss she laughed up at me as she tried to unwind unruly hair from around her fingers and wrists. ‘Would you do me a huge favour?’ she asked.

  I nodded.

  ‘Please go and find me some scissors, or a knife or even some garden shears.’ We both began to giggle, quieting only when a pillow hit me on the back of the head.

  A cold, quiet voice came from the darkness. ‘Shut up or I will kill you both right now.’

  We shut up.

  The next morning I was woken by uproarious laughing from the bathroom. Carly and Parity emerged, both grinning. ‘So what do you think?’ Parity smiled and twirled to show off her new look. ‘As Carly had managed to get her do sorted I asked Galgaliel to fix mine.’

  The tall angel edged out of the bathroom, looking more than a little rueful.

  Carly’s hair had been trimmed and tidied, washed and primped. Now only down to her elbows she looked like her old self and was obviously pleased with the result.

  Parity, on the other hand, had gone entirely in another direction. Keeping the chopped, waif look she had bleached the whole lot white then had taken the longest messy clumps and dyed the very tips a bright blue. On one side of her head she had shaved it all down to a white fuzz. The whole thing was finished off with a bright blue silk scarf. With her big boots, ripped tights and tiny skirt, she looked as though she’d fallen straight out of some lost gothic rock band.

  The effect on poor Graham was instantaneous and extreme: he reddened, then paled. Gulping rapidly, he couldn’t seem to keep upright and sank down onto the bed, his eyes fixed on the punky, laughing seer.

  Una laughed and ran over to pat Parity’s hair. ‘Pretty!’ she announced, holding out her arms to be picked up.

  ‘Who did yours?’ Parity smiled at the little girl whose blonde curls once more bounced from her shoulders.

  Una giggled and struggled to be put down. ‘Hungry,’ she said.

  Carly shrugged at Parity’s perplexed look. ‘Must have been Lucifer.’ She looked over at Graham who, sitting there with his mouth open, seemed to have lost the ability to blink. ‘I don’t think we can ask him at the moment though, can we.’

  Parity seemed pleased by the effect she was having and sashayed across the room to sit next to her brother who was shaking his head with a look of disapproval. ‘At least when you were dead I could have a small say in what you looked like,’ he muttered.

  Parity stared at him. ‘Things change.’ She laughed. ‘Oh, and by the way …’ She leant over to kiss him on the forehead. ‘Nice dragons.’

  Blushing bright red and stammering horribly, Farr was saved by the arrival of breakfast.

  Later, as we were discussing our next move. Mama Gert tapped gently then stuck her head around the door.

  ‘There’s some people to see you.’ Sh
e kept her eyes on the floor and spoke in a respectful tone.

  Carly smiled at her. ‘Hi, Mama Gert.’ She trotted over to talk to the older woman. ‘I just wanted to say that breakfast was lovely.’ She studied the flustered matron.

  Mama Gert raised her eyes and looked slightly hopeful. ‘You’re going to be the new council then?’ She smiled but again it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Are you going to carry on with the apprenticeships?’

  Carly patted her on the arm. ‘We think it’s better if the children are educated here, don’t you?’

  The relief that flowed from the innkeeper was an almost living thing. ‘My grandson would have been old enough next year,’ she began to gabble. ‘And I was so worried. His mam didn’t want him to go. He was going to come and work here, but that wasn’t allowed so he’d have had to go.’ She smiled hopefully up at Carly. ‘If they don’t have to do apprenticeships no more, can all the kiddies come back then?’

  Carly swallowed and glanced at her father who gave a minute shake of his head. ‘I honestly don’t know yet.’ She gave the woman a comforting hug. ‘Everything’s a little up in the air at the moment.’

  Mama Gert nodded. ‘Well, like I said there’s folk waiting to see you downstairs. I’ll make tea.’ With that she turned and trotted out the door. ‘That can be one of his jobs.’

  We heard her talking to herself, making plans for her grandson as she clomped heavily down the wooden stairs.

  ‘He can make and carry the tea – it’s not doing my back any good, so he can do it …’ Her voice faded away.

  Parity wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and turned to her brother. ‘They’re dead, aren’t they?’

  Farr nodded then closed his eyes, already knowing what the next question was going to be. ‘I can’t bring them back, Parry,’ he said, gently taking his sister’s hand. ‘Their bodies aren’t even here any more, and even if they were I could only animate them. You lived like that – would you wish it on a child? Never growing up, not really feeling anything, just a pretty golem?’