‘Concentrate,’ Geburael murmured, ‘on a point in the air between us, before our faces. Into this point, we must direct our will, our purpose, our desire. It will become a spark of light.’
It was almost as if Loki could see this light with his physical eyes. It was a bright tiny star, revolving, emitting blades of intense radiance that sliced right into him.
Geburael slipped into mind touch. Show us, Ninzini. Show us the way to the place below.
For a few moments more, all Loki could hear was their combined breathing, but then, distantly, a tone. He wasn’t sure if it was in his head or in reality.
Loki… Geburael’s voice was a whisper in his mind. We must make the tone. Aloud. Make it low in the throat, not the mouth. Do you understand what I mean by that?
Yes… Resonate.
That’s it.
The sound in Loki’s head was so distant, he could barely make it out, and the moment his voice sounded aloud in the room, the tone disappeared completely. His voice combined with Geburael’s, who appeared able to continue sounding the tone without stopping to draw breath. But then Loki found he was able to do that too. He could breathe deeply and evenly, and the tone did not falter. It seemed to operate independently of his body. The sound was beautiful; a song. But even though they seemed to continue making it for many minutes, there was no discernible change around them and no new information bloomed in Loki’s mind.
Then Geburael told him: Stop. Open your eyes.
Loki did so. Geburael was smiling at him. He pressed Loki’s fingers with his own. ‘Look up,’ he said softly.
Instead of the ceiling about seven feet overhead, Loki saw a yawning shaft that disappeared into infinity. The steps that should have led up to the next level ended abruptly at the place where the ceiling should have been. Behind Geburael was a dark doorway.
Loki’s mouth went dry instantly and a strange shiver of heat, followed by an intense shiver of cold, passed through his flesh. ‘The floor has sunk,’ he said, stating the obvious.
Geburael laughed. ‘It would seem so. I didn’t feel a thing, did you?’
Loki shook his head. ‘Nothing. We should have had some sense of descent, surely?’
Geburael got to his feet and gestured towards the doorway. ‘Well, we’re here, let’s explore.’
Loki swallowed with difficulty. The doorway seemed sentient somehow, as if entities clustered in the thick shadows beyond it, watching and listening intently. Enough light to see by was coming from somewhere, but where? There was no obvious source; the light just was. He knew they had to cross that dark threshold. It was why they were there.
The chamber they left behind appeared to be in the center of a circular building, since the passageway outside was curved to left and right. There were no windows and the light was a strange dark azure, which emanated from what looked like small blue crystals set into the walls. The walls were very smooth, made of a curious soapy-looking bluish stone, slightly veined like marble or – as Loki thought – the wonderful creamy blue cheese that the Freyhellans were so fond of. When he touched the walls they were warm, like a living creature is warm.
After only a short walk, Loki and Geburael came to a series of doorways, leading outwards. They chose one at random. There was another short passageway, of maybe twenty yards or so, that led into a chamber so immense that Loki at once felt dizzy. There was hardly anything within this room, if so vast a structure could be so termed. It was domed and softly lit by the same azure radiance as in the corridors. It had the ambience of a Nayati, Loki thought, serene and full of the potential of gods. In the center of the chamber, quite some distance away, was a dark cube, which looked as if it was made of stone. Loki had the strong impression that once a Thanad had sat upon that strange throne, and through it had communed with Ninzini.
Geburael whispered, ‘This place, it looks sort of organic, but then not – too plain.’ Plain was not a word entirely appropriate to the circumstances.
‘Were the Thanadrim giants, do you suppose?’ Loki said, a light-hearted question he hoped would establish some kind of normality, but which in essence was genuine.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Geburael replied, ‘but the Hashmallim are, aren’t they? I presume the Thanadrim were similar. If what the Thanax told you was true, then presumably the Thanadrim’s structures would have to be large-scale, since they were supposed to regulate the entire farming of realms.’ He paused and briefly touched Loki’s shoulder. ‘Well, now we’re here… do we move on?’
Loki realised his heart was beating as fast as if he’d been running, and had been that way since he’d opened his eyes after the meditation. ‘We must,’ he said.
It took nearly fifteen minutes to cross the chamber; it was even bigger than it first appeared. When they reached the ‘throne’ in the center, it was at least seven feet high. Loki’s flesh tingled as they passed it, almost as if someone, or something, was sitting on top of the cube, staring down at him.
Loki had assumed that Thannaril Below was simply a series of hollowed out chambers, albeit huge, but after he and Geburael had wandered through several long curving corridors and passed through other domed chambers – most smaller than the first one – they finally reached the outside, and the scene made Loki light-headed. He took hold of Geburael’s hand; he couldn’t help it. ‘We must have traveled down for miles,’ he whispered hoarsely, unwilling to raise his voice in case something – something – heard it.
‘Our trance was deeper than we thought,’ Geburael murmured back.
Nothing else could explain the sheer immensity of what lay before them now. Loki’s first thought was of the Sahale city of Sahen, in Jaddayoth, but really the only thing Thannaril Below shared with the place was the fact it was underground. Loki and Geburael had passed through a doorway, which led to a railed platform. What lay before them was a city so incomprehensibly vast, the senses could barely take it in. Domed buildings, some with cupolas and towers, rose all around them. When Loki looked over the rail, he saw the roofs of other buildings below.
‘It’s like coral,’ he said. ‘A reef.’
There were no perceivable limits to the city, just an endless vista of cyclopean buildings. Loki’s first impression was that it was not dead, since there was light, but after only a couple of minutes’ stunned observation, Loki realised that nothing moved along the maze of walkways. Some of the structures appeared to be made of glass or crystal, and were lit with the strange dark lights of blue and sometimes green, but no life was visible within. A myriad of walkways and paths intersected the city.
‘It was just abandoned,’ Geburael murmured. ‘I bet if we could find living quarters, there’d be the remains of food on the tables. Don’t you get that impression? It feels like it’s holding its breath.’
‘The Thanadrim were driven out,’ Loki said. ‘Strange that the Aasp didn’t just destroy this place, though – and the thousands of similar places.’ He was trembling; he couldn’t help it. He felt light-headed, almost nauseous. It was fear, wonder and excitement, shaken together.
‘It’s just so incredible,’ Geburael said, somewhat lamely, shaking his head. ‘It makes me want to weep and laugh. Diablo should see this!’
‘What?’ Loki shared no such sentiment. ‘He shouldn’t! Don’t tell him about this, Geb.’ It occurred to Loki at that moment, that he had no idea how they could return to the surface – other than simply make another request in trance to Ninzini.
‘If he saw this,’ Geburael said, gesturing with one arm, ‘I think it might change him. Nohar could stay the same after seeing it.’
Loki doubted Diablo was capable of any positive transformation. ‘I think we should keep it secret for now. I believe that the Hashmallim are enemies of Thanatep. Diablo would tell them about this. We shouldn’t abuse the privilege we’ve been given. The place, after all, is – well – dormant. There’s no need for anyone to know we’ve seen it.’
Geburael frowned at this. ‘But why did Ninzini consent to us com
ing here? It must know who and what I am.’
‘I don’t think it has that much reasoning power,’ Loki said hastily. ‘We simply did the things that made certain events take place. I think we should try to return to the surface now, discuss what we’ve seen. It’s too overwhelming. I need to get out.’
‘I agree,’ Geburael said. ‘But this is a turning point. It means something.’ He tilted back his head and squinted his eyes. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘There must be shafts leading from all the towers.’
To Loki, they appeared like the pipes of an immense organ; he had seen such things in the remaining ancient human cathedrals that Cal had shown to him in various old cities around the world. Perhaps that analogy was apt; he imagined the tone of Ninzini and a thousand other tones harmonising with it. In such ways, perhaps, the Thanadrim had conducted their work.
‘I miss my family,’ Loki said. ‘If it wasn’t for you, Geb, I’d never have seen this, and for that I’m grateful, but I miss my home. I want my regular life back.’
‘You were lucky ever to have had a regular life,’ Geburael said, tartly. ‘You’re a son of the Aralisians. It had to stop. Whatever made you think you’d be able to live a simple life like a normal har?’
Loki sighed. ‘I just can’t imagine where it’s going to go from here. It’s bizarre, but having seen all this, I feel sort of hopeless.’ Now he’d begun to voice his inner thoughts, he couldn’t stop, even though he suspected he shouldn’t be confiding in Geburael. ‘My feelings are that, as an Aralisian, and a future member of the Hegemony, I should get the Zehk and the Aasp to sit round a table with the leaders of Wraeththu and discuss things. I know that’s impossible, but I don’t feel I can make an informed judgment any other way. I’m too young to make such big judgments. It’s not right. I think it’s the very fact of my youth that has made the Hashmallim contact me. They think I’m gullible and easy to manipulate. I’m not. But neither have I strength or the command of slippery words to match them.’ He drew breath to say more, but decided against it. He could sense that Geburael had become a little tense beside him.
‘What did the Hashmal ask of you?’ Geburael asked.
‘You don’t know?’
‘Well… what do you think? I just asked the question.’
‘I think we should return to the surface, then we’ll talk more. It’s not appropriate to discuss it down here.’
It was fairly easy for Geburael and Loki to retrace their steps to Ninzini’s entrance shaft, although on one occasion they took a wrong turn and once they realised they were in completely new territory, Loki nearly gave in to hysteria. The thought of being lost in Thannaril Below terrified him. But Geburael remained calm and soon worked out where they’d gone wrong and got them back on track. He’d memorised some landmarks on the way.
Once they’d seated themselves once more at the base of Ninzini, the tower complied unhesitatingly to the request to ascend. This time both Loki and Geburael kept their eyes open, although they did link hands. Loki was grateful for the contact. He’d once congratulated himself on being able to tolerate completely alien and extraordinary experiences, but visiting Thannaril Below had left him light-headed and full of an inexplicable feeling of apprehension.
As before, there was no sense of movement as the floor rose, but the walls appeared to become fluid. The ascent seemed to go on forever, which Loki thought strange, because it had seemed so quick on the way down. He closed his eyes, and felt Geburael squeeze his fingers. ‘Hey,’ Geburael whispered.
Loki opened his eyes again. He saw at once that the walls had solidified once more, and when he looked up, the ceiling was reassuringly above his head. Perhaps closing his eyes, and changing his perception, had speeded up the process subjectively for him. It made his mind whirl.
‘Are you OK?’ Geburael asked.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Loki said. ‘I don’t feel good at all.’
‘Mmm, it was rather overwhelming.’ Geburael let go of Loki’s hands and rubbed at his own hair.
Loki didn’t think he sounded overwhelmed at all.
Geburael got to his feet. ‘You should sleep. You’ll be all right afterwards.’
Loki pressed his hands against his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he said shakily. ‘In fact, I need to sleep right now, this moment.’ Unsteadily, he got to his feet. The room swam before his eyes and for a moment Loki thought he might vomit. He leaned against the wall with one hand; it felt solid and eternal beneath his palm.
Geburael came up behind him and wrapped his arms round Loki’s waist. ‘Breathe deeply,’ he advised.
Loki did so, and eventually the feeling of nausea passed. ‘Will you stay with me?’ he asked. He leaned back against Geburael, feeling that he would disintegrate if he were left alone, untouched.
Geburael turned him round. ‘Share my strength,’ he said. ‘Share breath with me.’
Loki did not resist. Geburael’s calm strength grounded him, made him feel safe and sure again. He did not break the contact even once he felt better. Neither did he think of Diablo. His body began to respond to Geburael. He felt hot.
Geburael broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Loki’s own. He uttered a soft groan.
‘Let’s go upstairs,’ Loki said.
They went to the chamber just below the summit, which was where Loki slept when he didn’t sleep outside. Loki wasn’t sure what he was doing or if he’d regret it bitterly later; all he knew was that he wanted aruna. It was more than want. He needed to be part of another har, if only temporarily. It would be like seeking sanctuary beneath a curtain of ivy, where nothing could find him.
He and Geburael shared breath again in the center of the room and this time Geburael was more confident. He’d realised that Loki wasn’t going to push him away. He ran his hands over Loki’s body, then held him tight. Loki could feel Geburael’s ouana-lim pressing against him, and his own body became soume. It seemed almost preordained.
‘Undress me,’ Loki murmured.
Geburael stepped back and began reverently to remove Loki’s clothes. His touch was light; he did not caress Loki in any way. Loki found this deeply erotic. He wanted Geburael to stroke him and the fact that he didn’t heightened Loki’s desire.
Once he was naked, Loki lay down on top of his bed and watched Geburael disrobe himself. There will be thorns, he thought. At that moment, even the idea of this strange addition to aruna excited him.
Geburael’s body was smooth; there was no sign of anything thornlike. Loki lay in anticipation of what would happen.
Geburael came to lie beside him and they shared breath once more. Now, Geburael began to caress Loki’s body, at first with a tantalizing gentle touch, away from the more sensitive areas, but gradually moving towards them. Loki arched his body when Geburael touched his soume-lam. He felt he might faint. It had been too long since feybraiha, and he’d bullied his body by denying it this. He reached down and took Geburael’s ouana-lim in his hand. It felt like it had a heartbeat.
Geburael moaned in delight and rolled Loki onto his back. Loki opened his legs in invitation and then Geburael was inside him. The feelings this conjured were exquisite. Loki had never known such physical pleasure. It did not feel contaminated or wrong.
The thorns, when they came, were etheric, Loki realised. He had expected some physical protrusions to burst from Geburael’s torso, but it wasn’t like that. They were part of the aruna vision, not physical at all. When they went into his astral flesh, it was as if they injected some kind of euphoric drug. The experience was so intense, Loki’s corporeal body reacted as if the thorns were real. Blood welled from tiny cuts; his belly became slippery. Geburael cried out and took them both to the highest peak, which to Loki was like a mountain summit above the clouds. In this place, he could see what the clouds concealed from harish eyes below: angels dancing between the stars.
Loki had no idea how long he slept for, but when he awoke he had the sensation that a lot of time had passed. Beside him, Geburael slumbered on. Loki obse
rved him. The only time you can really look at a har is when he’s asleep, he thought. How I wish Diablo had never touched you, Geb.
Loki’s body still reverberated from the wonderful sensations he’d experienced. He looked at his stomach and saw the triangular scars, which were already fading. Was it possible that what they’d done together had cleansed Geburael of what Loki regarded as an unclean feybraiha? He hoped he’d scoured every atom of that vile creature from Geburael’s being. He was sure that Diablo would never share breath with anyhar; that was something new for Geburael. It was his and Loki’s alone. Loki leaned over and touched Geburael’s lips with his own, breathed into him a stream of clear light. Geburael mumbled in his sleep.
Loki intended to take this further, but then he shivered. The air in the room had become somehow hard. It was about to fracture: a portal was opening up. Loki rose from the bed and pulled on his trousers. He stared into a corner of the room that no longer looked wholly stable. Within moments an oval portal pushed reality apart and the Hashmal Zikael stepped through it.
Zikael glanced at the sleeping Geburael, smiled mordantly and then addressed Loki. ‘It is time for your first lesson. You want to learn how to fly, Loki har Aralis?’
‘You’ll teach me to use the otherlanes?’ Loki asked. He started to put on the rest of his clothes.
‘It’s what you asked for, isn’t it?’ Zikael said.
Chapter Seventeen
After Lileem had told the Exile her story, he did not attempt to communicate for some time, but simply lay in his sarcophagus with his eyes open. Lileem and Ponclast kept watch over him. After all, there was nowhere else they had to be.
Lileem was sure that more than the Exile had awoken. She was conscious, on the edge of her perception, of a low vibration in the chamber around her, as if arcane mechanisms were secretly at work.
While Lileem had been speaking, the Exile had kept his eyes on her mouth the entire time. It seemed that the more he heard her speak, the more he understood her. But the effort of that understanding appeared to have exhausted him, or perhaps he was mulling it all over in his mind, working it out. Lileem had no idea; he was an alien being to her. Eventually, he expressed a sigh that made his entire body shudder. When he tried to sit up, both Lileem and Ponclast assisted him. The Exile smiled, slowly, as if he couldn’t operate his facial muscles properly. ‘I wish I wanted a drink,’ he said, which was such a normal and therefore unlikely thing to say that Lileem laughed. It was also spoken perfectly in her own tongue and – she noticed - with her accent.
The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence Page 23