The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

by Constantine, Storm

  Darquiel had never seen the sea before. Its immensity stirred him, even from a distance. Its smell swept inland, bringing a taste of salt to his mouth.

  ‘As soon as we get a chance,’ Cal murmured, leaning close, ‘I’ll take you there.’

  Darq glanced at him askance. ‘I was always told it was rude to pry.’

  Cal grinned. ‘Your eyes speak as eloquently as your mind.’

  ‘The sea is new to me,’ Darq said. ‘I want to get close to it.’

  Cal nodded and draped an arm around Darq’s shoulders. The wind blew Cal’s hair over his face in shards of silky spikes. ‘It’s a bit of a walk into the city, but I thought you’d appreciate the time to gather your thoughts and take a look around.’

  Darq reflected that in only a few days he had become completely comfortable with this stranger who’d simply arrived and announced paternity of him. Cal had an easy way with him. Darq had watched him carefully and had noted how Cal could drop the casual demeanor in an instant and become the wily diplomat instead.

  Darq looked down upon the domes, tiered roofs and spires of Immanion and thought: They conceived me there. They did the impossible and now here I am, coming back.

  Cal pointed out the hill in the center of town, which was like a piece of countryside in the middle of sprawling buildings. ‘That’s our home,’ Cal said. ‘That’s Phaonica.’ The building on top of the hill looked like something from a dream. It seemed alive to Darq. He shivered.

  Thiede came to walk on Darq’s other side. ‘Be assured that we’ll both be greeted with surprise,’ he said. ‘Cal banished me from Immanion once, and the last thing anyhar expects will be for me to walk back into it at his side.’

  ‘Why did he banish you?’ Darq asked. At this question, he sensed a certain reserve creep into Cal’s aura.

  ‘A long story,’ Thiede said. ‘You’ve a lot of history to catch up on, Darq. So much to do! Family, friends and oily-tongued hegemons to meet!’

  Darq was consumed by weariness at the thought of that. ‘Do they know we’re coming?’ he asked Cal.

  ‘No,’ Cal replied. ‘I like surprises.’

  ‘Tell them,’ Darq said. ‘Please.’

  Velaxis was trailing behind. Now he sent a mind touch message to Darq. Never mind Cal’s games. I’ve contacted Rue. He knows.

  Thank you. I’ll say nothing.

  Cal, meanwhile, only laughed. ‘It’ll be a joy to see their faces!’

  Thiede joined in with this laughter. Whatever bad history might exist between them, it was clear why they had become friends.

  When they reached the city gates, Thiede pulled up the hood of his traveling cloak. Darq saw no reason to do likewise, since nohar knew who he was. The guards on duty made gestures of respect to Cal and Velaxis, but paid little attention to their companions. Clearly, Thiede had cast a glamour around himself. The gates were dragged open and the party passed through.

  ‘This is the way your father Pellaz came into Immanion,’ Thiede said to Darq. ‘It was such a long time ago.’

  Darq wondered about Tigron Pellaz: what would his other father think of him? What would be his first words? Was he as beautiful as Cal? And there would be Darq’s hostling, Caeru, as well. Hara didn’t speak much of him. Darq wondered what he would be like too.

  The areas Darq passed through on his way to Phaonica were mostly residential. The city seemed enormous and so clean. There were no chickens or animals running about, as there were in Samway. The hour was still early, so few hara were out in the streets. Now that Darq was here, in the city of his creation, he felt disorientated. He had never been in a place where so many hara lived together, and the psychic residue of a multitude of souls pressed upon his being. He realised that, should he let it, that feeling could easily descend into panic.

  Then they were at the walls of the palace estate, and the moment Darq had increasingly come to dread was almost upon him. A long curving driveway wound around the hill where Phaonica sprawled at the summit. Lesser buildings, workshops, staff quarters and stables spread downwards behind the palace, but at the front was a magnificent series of tiered gardens. Darq could only catch glimpses of follies, waterfalls and fountains, as there were so many trees. He thought that Amelza and he would have enjoyed playing around in such gardens when they’d been children. Would he ever bring her here?

  All too soon, Darq was climbing the front steps to the building. The palace reared over him, magnificent and strong. His heart was beating very fast, his breath labored. He felt extremely light-headed.

  Then, from the shadows of the columns at the top of the steps, a willowy figure emerged. It was a pale-haired har, of exquisite, almost otherworldly slenderness, dressed in garments of matte violet silk. He looked at nohar but Darq, and Darq felt an unaccountable and immense tug in his chest. Involuntarily, his eyes filled with tears, so that the figure before him became shimmery and unfocused. He knew he was looking at his hostling.

  Cal, or maybe Thiede, said something, but Darq’s ears were filled with a high-pitched humming. His hostling came down the steps to him and enfolded him in a warm embrace. ‘Welcome home,’ Caeru whispered and kissed Darq’s cheek.

  It was almost like the time before feybraiha, because Darq was overwhelmed by emotion. He couldn’t help but weep, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. When he held onto Caeru, he could feel ghosts of the terrible thing that had happened, the way they’d been ripped apart unnaturally. He also knew that at the moment Caeru had touched him, some deep inner hurt had begun to heal. Darq understood now why he could never have felt close to Phade, and why Olivia had drawn him to her without realising it. He’d missed the contact of the body that had held and nurtured him, and he’d never known it.

  Caeru drew away, his hands still clasping Darq’s face, thumbs lightly stroking his cheekbones. ‘Well, Cal,’ he said, without taking his gaze from Darq’s. ‘Sorry to spoil your surprise. What a good cat you are, bringing home such a delightful gift.’

  ‘He’s hardly hanging from my jaws,’ Cal said.

  Caeru wiped his eyes with one hand. ‘No?’ He now turned his attention to Thiede. ‘Welcome to you, too. We’ve just about managed to mature without you. Isn’t that a wonder?’

  Thiede took Caeru in his arms and hugged him rather roughly. ‘Amazing,’ he said. ‘Phaonica still stands.’

  ‘And Pell and I are now always what you wanted us to be.’

  Thiede glanced at Darq. ‘So it seems. Well, lead us in, fair Tigrina. Why isn’t Pell with you?’

  ‘I wanted to meet Darq myself first,’ Caeru said. ‘If Pell was here, he would have been, well… just Pell.’ Caeru held out a hand to Velaxis who came forward to take it. He appeared slightly defensive. ‘And you, Vel, have many things to tell me,’ Caeru said. ‘I always knew you were a horse of the darker variety, but you’ve exceeded my imaginings. The hints you’ve given me in mind touch are intriguing. I want to know the rest!’

  ‘I vowed a long time ago to find your son,’ Velaxis said. ‘I never forget a promise, even if I haven’t voiced it aloud.’

  Cal took Caeru’s arm. ‘I think you should take everyhar to your apartments, Rue. Have you told Pell anything?’

  Caeru shook his head. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Then I’ll go and see him, tell him what to expect.’

  ‘What about the element of surprise?’ Thiede asked.

  ‘Outside the city, it sounded like a good idea,’ Cal replied. ‘But if there is any surprise to be registered, only I should witness it.’

  ‘I think I should come with you,’ Thiede said.

  Cal raised a hand. ‘No. I must do this alone.’

  Thiede inclined his head, although he didn’t appear too pleased. ‘As you wish.’

  Cal ran up the rest of the steps and disappeared through the great doors.

  ‘Come with me,’ Caeru said, in a bright tone. ‘I’ll get my staff to prepare you the best breakfast you’ve ever eaten.’

  Pellaz was alrea
dy up, having been disturbed from sleep by nagging dreams, which had left him exhausted. Geburael had been staying in a bedroom of the Tigron’s apartments that was reserved for staff, though never used. Nothing had been stated overtly between Tigron and high-son, but it was accepted that Geburael had moved in, even if only temporarily. Pellaz presumed this was because Phaonica was situated more conveniently than the prison house. Geburael had lost no time in exploring the city of his family. Pellaz knew he couldn’t discuss anything personal with Geburael, because if he did, his high-son might take umbrage and bolt. He seemed intent on finding excuses to be affronted. He was like a skittish, high-spirited colt, and needed careful handling. Pellaz was surprised that he was not more impatient with this behavior, since he wouldn’t have tolerated it in Loki.

  Geburael spent every day with Abrimel, and Pellaz made no comment. Sometimes he’d come back from the prison house and go directly to his room, where he’d eat his dinner. Then he’d disappear into the city until the early hours of the morning, all without uttering a word to Pellaz. Geburael had quickly discovered he could charge drinks, meals and other purchases to the Phaonica account. Again, Pellaz said nothing. Not yet. Once the dark, poisonous storm that he felt massing on the horizon had passed, Geburael’s conduct could be addressed. For now, all Pellaz wanted was his high-son in Immanion. If that meant the har racked up huge bills in the nightclubs of the city, so be it. Pellaz thought it a small price to pay. In some ways, it was gratifying that Geburael was making friends and actually having a social life, since it must be completely new to him. It would be interesting to hear what he thought about it all, but Pellaz knew that any frank discussion with Geburael was unlikely.

  Geburael traipsed into the Tigron’s dining room just as Pellaz was drinking his second cup of coffee. It was a miserable day. In the sky beyond the long windows, seagulls were tossed like scraps of rag upon the air; too white against the sullen grey.

  Geburael yawned and threw himself into a chair next to Pellaz, who sat as always at the head of the table.

  ‘Good night, last night?’ Pellaz asked, hoping the question didn’t sound too sarcastic.

  ‘Mmm.’ Geburael helped himself to a bread roll, which lay in a basket that had come fresh from the palace bakery. He tore this apart and stuffed it into his mouth.

  ‘You’re up early,’ Pellaz said.

  ‘Something’s happening,’ Geburael said.

  ‘What do you think that is?’

  ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t feel bad exactly, but it woke me.’

  ‘Have some coffee.’

  Just as Geburael was slopping coffee over the pristine tablecloth, Cal came into the room, still wearing his traveling clothes. Pellaz stood up at once. ‘Cal, thank the dehara! Where have you been?’

  Cal raised his hands, his gaze fixed on Geburael. ‘Busy,’ he said. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘This is Geburael,’ Pellaz answered. ‘Abrimel’s son.’

  Cal came forward quickly. ‘And Loki?’ he asked. ‘You took Loki, didn’t you?’

  ‘He’s not here,’ Geburael said. ‘And yes, I did take him.’

  Cal glanced at Pellaz. ‘Clearly, a lot has happened while I’ve been away!’ He sat down opposite Geburael. ‘So, what are you doing here? Where have you been hiding Loki?’

  Geburael’s voice was surly. ‘You should ask him…’ he jerked his head at Pellaz, ‘…if you want to know why I’m here. Loki is, I presume, in a realm called Thanatep.’

  ‘Ah, Thanatep!’ Cal said. ‘Now that’s interesting.’

  ‘Abrimel, Rue and I were searching for Loki in the otherlanes,’ Pellaz said. ‘Peridot helped us get this one instead. Geburael has been trying to find Loki for us. It’s a long story.’ Pellaz narrowed his eyes at Cal. ‘How do you know about Thanatep, anyway?’

  ‘Sit down,’ Cal said.

  Pellaz did so, his eyes never leaving Cal’s face.

  ‘I heard about it from our son, Darquiel,’ Cal said. ‘I found him, Pell. I found our lost pearl.’

  Pell’s jaw dropped open. ‘What? Where? When?’ He screwed up his face. ‘Oh, why am I surprised? I suspected something like this. Tell me everything.’

  Cal smiled uncertainly. ‘You’ll hear it all soon. How angry are you with me, on a scale of one to ten?’

  Pellaz shook his head. ‘Angry? Hardly that. I’m resigned.’

  ‘I have to see him,’ Geburael announced.

  Cal gave Geburael a contemplative stare. ‘Darq’s with Rue,’ he said to Pellaz. ‘We’ll go to him soon. I just wanted to tell you first, Pell. I didn’t want it to be too much of a shock.’

  Pellaz took Cal’s hands in his own, shook them. ‘Why didn’t you contact me?’ he asked. ‘Why do you just disappear and go off doing things on your own? This is as important to me as to you. What’s he like? Where did Thiede hide him?’ He realised he probably shouldn’t be talking so openly in front of Geburael, but couldn’t help himself.

  Cal raised Pell’s hands to his lips, kissed them. ‘Hush. There’s another thing you should know.’

  ‘For Aru’s sake, what?’

  ‘Thiede is here too. He’s come back to us, Pell.’

  Pellaz withdrew his hands from Cal’s grasp and pressed them against his eyes for the briefest moment, then he was on his feet again. ‘Geburael, come with us,’ he said.

  For once, Geburael did not drag his feet.

  When Pellaz laid eyes on Darquiel for the first time, every other har present in the room became mere blurred outlines. Darquiel shone. Pellaz saw in him vestiges of his own lost youth and hints of an inner sadness that was deeper than any petty considerations of mundane life. Pellaz knew that feeling, even if it stole over him only rarely. It was concern for the world and all hara upon it, and misery for the harm that some still did to others, mimicking earlier human ways. Pellaz also knew, from the briefest of inspections, that Darquiel himself was probably as yet unaware of what he felt inside. I’m looking at our true heir, Pellaz thought. We were right to make him, whatever it cost. He’s literally our hope for the future.

  Darquiel had stood up from his chair next to Caeru. Pellaz approached him and saw many different feelings and thoughts cross his son’s eyes: awe, wariness, excitement, fear, relief. Pellaz took his hands. He saw the flecks of gold in Darquiel’s black eyes, and the threads of it in his hair. He was a creature of light and dark, possessing the beauty of all his parents, the best parts of each.

  ‘I can see,’ Pellaz said, straining to keep his voice level and light, ‘that this moment has indeed been worth waiting for. Darquiel, I don’t have the words to express what I feel, but I trust you sense my heart.’

  Darquiel closed his eyes briefly. ‘May I touch you?’

  Pellaz opened his arms. He held Darquiel close, aware keenly how he’d never felt this way for either of his other sons. He was glad then that Loki was not present, and this reminded him who was. He pulled away. Thiede had come to stand beside him.

  ‘So the rogue returns,’ Pellaz said. ‘Are you the champion in our hour of need, Thiede?’

  Thiede grinned. ‘No. I’m an aged relative who wishes to retire into his old apartment here.’

  Pellaz laughed. ‘You’ll never be aged, Thiede. Don’t ever try to pull that one with us.’ He indicated Geburael, who was still standing at the threshold, his expression unreadable. ‘This is Geburael, son of Abrimel. Slowly, the Aralisians are coming together again.’

  Pellaz sensed Darquiel tense. He sent his son a brief mind touch, gratified at how easy it was to make contact. Are you afraid of him? Don’t be.

  They wish me harm, Darquiel replied instantly. He works for the Hashmallim. Forgive me, I must tell you that.

  Pellaz sent a stream of soothing energy in his son’s direction, and put within it the message that if anyhar tried to harm Darq in Phaonica they would have the Tigron to get past first. I know his history, but he’s here now. Things are changing.

  Can I speak to you alone?

  Soon.<
br />
  ‘I’ve ordered breakfast,’ Caeru said, into the silence that accompanied this brief unspoken conversation.

  ‘Good idea,’ Cal said. ‘We can sit around a table and get acquainted, like civilised creatures.’

  ‘I’ll summon Raven and Terez,’ Pellaz said. He laughed. ‘I’m almost tempted to drag Snake and Cobweb over from Galhea although it’ll be the middle of the night in Megalithica.’

  ‘Oh, save that treat,’ Cal said. ‘Don’t even summon Terez and Raven. We should keep it a small gathering today. We have a lot of ground to cover and too many voices will make it difficult. Socializing should come later.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Pellaz said. ‘This is unlike me. I feel strangely euphoric!’

  ‘There is one other who should be here,’ Thiede said abruptly.

  ‘Who?’ Pellaz asked him.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? Abrimel.’

  There was a moment’s silence, during which Caeru shot Pellaz a sharp glance. ‘I don’t think he’d want to be here,’ Pellaz said.

  ‘Whether he does or not, he should be present,’ Thiede argued mildly. ‘Let me bring him. Where is he?’

  ‘He’s in confinement,’ Pellaz said. ‘Really, Thiede, I don’t think…’

  ‘Be quiet. My autocratic days are over, but allow me this one last demand.’

  Pellaz considered for a moment. He wondered what the likelihood was of Geburael and Abrimel slithering off into the otherlanes, with manic laughter, and a host of evil intentions. Unexpectedly, Geburael came to the Tigron’s side. ‘I’ll vouch for him,’ he said. ‘He won’t try to escape.’

  Pellaz fixed Geburael with a stare. ‘And you?’

  ‘I wish to speak to Darquiel,’ Geburael said. ‘Believe me, I’m not going anywhere just yet.’

  Everyhar continued their breakfast while Thiede went to fetch Abrimel. Darq’s mind was in a spin. He could barely keep his eyes off Pellaz, who was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen or could imagine. The Tigron’s beauty was more than skin deep too. No wonder Darq’s parents were legends among Wraeththukind. Velaxis had absented himself before Pellaz arrived, perhaps understandably. Nohar had objected to him leaving. Occasionally, during the conversation, which Pellaz and Cal deliberately kept light, Darq’s eyes would be scalded by the intense gaze of Geburael. Darq could see into the har as if a spiritual light shone through him. He was Loki’s lover. He was suspicious of Darq and thought the worst of him. He was preparing to reveal Darq for what he believed he was. Darq was not at all happy to be sitting at breakfast with a har whose hostling had wanted to kill him.