‘Divozenky,’ Darq said. ‘I wonder…’
‘Wonder what?’ Loki asked.
‘How much she manipulated events.’
Loki frowned. ‘Who is she? Kamagrian?’
Darq shook his head. ‘We have a lot to talk about,’ he said.
Cal, Lileem and Geburael came out of Mutandis. There were no others with them, because those who had taken part in reviving the tower had now evaporated: Divozenky had taken them back into herself. For some minutes, Cal and his family were allowed the joy of reunion and relief. Perhaps Ta Ke knew this was necessary, because he delayed his emergence from Mutandis.
When he finally stepped forth from the entrance, which was around fifteen feet above the ground, he appeared to be as revitalised as his home realm was. His hair and skin glowed with life. He smiled. He stood upon the top step, behind a new balcony rail, and addressed all those gathered below him. ‘The Thanadrim are dead,’ he said, his voice ringing far, ‘yet Thanatep lives. I thank those who have helped me achieve my aims.’ He gestured at the hara below him. ‘But Thanatep needs new guardians for her towers, and she has helped create them. Thanax, this is your duty! Once we have had time to discuss the future, I ask that you go to the towers that will call to you, be they near or far. You are the new Thanadrim and there is rebuilding to be done!’ He threw up his arms and grinned widely. ‘Your cities await you, and they have been waiting for a long time.’
The Thanax, mad with the joy of release, cheered and howled. Darquiel laughed with his companions, because the mood of ecstatic renewal was so infectious.
Cal had to shout to make himself heard. ‘Let’s go home! Lileem, you’re coming with us.’
‘Try and stop me!’ she yelled.
They joined hands to create a portal, but before it formed, the sky shivered above them. Another portal was opening, and before anyhar could even comment upon it, shapes came out of it in a throng. The Thanax scattered in all directions, perhaps panicked by what they perceived as the return on the Aasp or the Zehk.
Darquiel saw that the new arrivals were in fact sedim. They came thundering down into Thannaril in their equine form. There must have been a hundred of them. Some of them were bloodied, as if they’d recently taken part in conflict. Darq could only assume the agents of the factions had squabbled and fought over who got to present themselves here first. His heart sank. He was exhausted. He wanted it all to be over.
‘Wonderful,’ Cal breathed sarcastically.
One of the sedim approached them, and Darq sensed that it was Lurlei, not least because he shone with magnificence beyond physical form. At one moment he appeared as a horse, the next as a tall creature very similar to a har.
‘Darquiel, we meet again.’ He spoke aloud, even though his mouth did not move. The sound came from deep within him.
‘Go away,’ Darq said, rather helplessly. He suspected this feeble command would have no effect.
‘Have you come to give us a lift home?’ Cal said coldly. ‘If not, we’ve no use for you.’
Lurlei, as a horse, bared his teeth and his ears went back. His head snaked out and his jaw snapped meaningfully. ‘Silence, har. My business is with Darquiel, not you.’
At this moment, Ta Ke’s voice boomed out from Mutandis. ‘Sedim, you have not obtained my permission to come here. Depart at once.’
Lurlei looked up and assumed a harish shape. He would not have looked out of place in the court of Phaonica. His long hair was tied up in a fashionable Gelaming type of style, and his clothes were robes of costly fabric, stitched with jewels. His eyes were the color of polished citrines. ‘Indeed I will not!’ Lurlei shouted. ‘Listen to me, Thanad. I have been sent by my masters to ascertain that the old contract still stands.’
Ta Ke gripped the balcony rail. His eyes appeared furious, even though his tone was level. ‘You must negotiate with the creatures of earth. I’ve learned that Divozenky has become tired of your cavalier attitude to her resources. She has created and appointed her own custodians.’
‘She is being wayward,’ Lurlei said. ‘She should know it is in Wraeththu’s interests to remain allied to us.’
Ta Ke shrugged. ‘Influencing her decisions is not my concern. I merely abide by them.’
‘It is your concern,’ Lurlei insisted. ‘Wraeththu are not yet advanced enough to be responsible for this resource.’
At these words, Cal made a wordless sound of disgust. Darq put a hand on his father’s arm. He felt that Ta Ke should speak for Wraeththu now. He suspected Lurlei had more respect for the Thanad than he did for ‘lower species’, whatever arrogant tone he chose to use with the guardian of this realm.
‘It is Divozenky’s decision,’ Ta Ke said. ‘Her avatar is Darquiel har Aralis. I suggest you stop being rude and address your remarks to him.’
Lurlei wheeled round and faced Darquiel. He did not appear remotely happy.
Darq bowed his head. ‘We will speak with you, King Lurlei,’ he said. ‘And we will speak to the Hashmallim also.’
Lurlei returned briefly to the form of a horse and stamped a foot. ‘Darquiel, that is not acceptable. You can’t use the resource of your realm yet, so you should allow the standing contract to remain. To do otherwise is to interfere in processes above your understanding.’
‘If the essence of our home realm is so delectable to you,’ Darquiel said, ‘it’s my thought both factions should learn to share it. We might not be so advanced, but I like to think that Wraeththu are learning a lot about co-operation and selflessness. Isn’t it sometimes the case that a teacher can learn much from their students?’
Lurlei expressed a snort. ‘The Zehk will not take kindly to this.’
‘I really don’t care,’ Darq said. ‘Leave us be.’
‘Leave you be?’ Lurlei laughed. ‘And that will include removing the resource we’ve given you, I suppose? The Gelaming will be able to maintain their control over the tribes without the sedim, will they?’
Darq thought it might be quite gratifying to hit that smug beautiful face, but he restrained himself. ‘Well, if you do that, then the Hashmallim can teach all hara and parazha how to use the otherlanes themselves,’ he said. ‘You don’t mind that, I suppose?’
‘You’re really quite amusing,’ Lurlei said. ‘A small child stamping his dear little foot in the hope he’ll get his own way. Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with, Darquiel? You can’t order us around, or the Hashmallim for that matter.’
‘I have no desire to order you around,’ Darq said. ‘I’d rather just not have you around.’
‘That is not going to happen,’ Lurlei said. ‘We’ll not let this rest.’
Darq glanced at Cal, who was smiling delightedly. ‘How about this, then?’ he said to Lurlei. ‘We’ll summon you when we’ve had time to discuss matters.’
Lurlei uttered a disgusted whinnying noise, which sounded amusingly equine, even though his physical shape wasn’t. ‘Divozenky will regret this. She is mad to invest power in such creatures as you.’
‘Take that up with her,’ Darq said. He turned to his companions. ‘And now, we really are going home.’ He smiled at Cal. ‘Let’s go now before the Aasp agents turn up.’
Cal laughed. ‘An excellent idea.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
While the debris of Thanatep was cleared up and its former glory restored, Darq and his family had other debris to deal with, of the more personal kind. Rather than be given respite after his ordeal, Darq was plunged into political life in Immanion, and at first he had little time to deal with sensitive issues.
The sedim were impatient to enter into negotiations with the guardians of earth, but Darq managed to hold them off. They could wait. He wanted to get to know his new life properly first. Despite Lurlei’s threat, Wraeththu did not lose sedim support entirely. This was because of a division within the ranks of the sedim: those who’d worked and lived with Wraeththu for many years were reluctant to storm off and take umbrage. They had, in effect, become p
art of the world.
Velaxis said to Darquiel that it was simply a replay of history. ‘It’s like when the rebel Zehk first came here,’ he said. ‘There’s something about this realm that makes you love it, I suppose.’
‘At least your people are safe now,’ Darq said. ‘I imagine the last concerns of the Zehk are the Krim Sri now. They’re too busy being affronted by me.’
Darquiel yearned to return to Anakhai, but knew he should spend some weeks in Immanion first. He allowed himself one brief visit to Tava-edzen, just to tell him all that had happened, and to spend a blissful night ignorant of all cares. He learned that Tava-edzen had worked with the Weavers and the Krim Sri to keep track of his movements, in the event that support might be needed. Darq realised that Tava-edzen was responsible for his success. If Cal hadn’t been informed of what was happening, and hadn’t taken Diablo out of the equation, things might have ended very differently. Pellaz might think that Darq’s love for the Nezreka was a youthful crush, but Darq thought otherwise. He felt, in his heart, he’d never really been a child.
Darq also sent a message to Amelza in Shilalama, to say he would like to visit her in the near future, when things had calmed down. He even contacted Phade and promised to visit Samway in the near future as well. It was his intention to take Amelza with him. In an effort to tie up as many loose ends as possible, he asked Thiede to track down Ookami and ask him to come to Immanion. Rather to Darq’s surprise, the Ikutama did not refuse this request. Thiede found him quite easily, because he was still in Nezreka.
One evening, Darq went out with Ookami for dinner; just the two of them. Darq thought Ookami would be scornful of anything too grand, so opted to take him to a small tavern near the sea front, where ordinary hara went to dine. Here, they ate lobster by candlelight, and drank the spicy white wine that was produced further down the coast. At first, Darq kept the conversation formal, describing events since he and Ookami had last been together. Then he realised he must speak more personally. ‘Are you still angry with me?’ he asked.
Ookami regarded him inscrutably for some moments. ‘No. I did my work and then others came to replace me.’
Darq touched one of Ookami’s arms. ‘Never that,’ he said. ‘You gave me so much. I’m sorry I faded away from you.’
Ookami drank some wine. ‘I always knew you had a momentous destiny awaiting you. It would be arrogant of me to be angry about anything. Although…’ he ducked his head to one side, ‘…I’d still like to get my hands on that Velaxis. It’s a personal matter. I realise I can’t do anything about it.’
‘Hmm.’ Darq paused. ‘I have to ask you, Ookami — that Grissecon you were preparing for; did I ruin it for you? You know what I mean.’
Ookami stared at Darq in silence, and Darq feared what he might say. The Ikutama put down his wine glass very carefully. Then he folded his arms and rested them on the table. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Before I came to Samway, my teacher told me I should prepare for a Grissecon event. I asked him what it would be for, and he said only that I would know when the time came. I’d assumed it would be with you, and that we’d perform some rite as part of your great destiny, but it wasn’t that.’ He took another drink of wine, while Darq waited tensely for what he’d say next. ‘You really should have gone to Tava-edzen on Natalia night, Darq.’
Darq sighed. ‘I know. I just had fantasies.’ He shrugged, gestured. ‘You know… I didn’t want to be part of a public ritual. I wanted it to be just the two of us, something more meaningful.’
‘Which is what you got,’ Ookami said. ‘Eventually. But the rite of the wolf was part of the pattern. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, because of your feelings, and that was your weakness. I couldn’t let that mar your future. So I took your place. For just a few minutes I became you. I was your avatar and that was my Grissecon. Tava-edzen will tell you the real details, one day. I saw what was in his mind. He was hardly aware it was me.’
‘Thank you,’ Darq said. ‘You do understand why I couldn’t do it, though?’
‘Yes. You’re young.’ Ookami smiled. ‘But like I said, you eventually got what you wanted, and I’m glad you did.’
‘No hard feelings?’
Ookami shook his head. ‘Not at all.’
Darq summoned the waiter, because the meal was nearly finished and he wanted Ookami to sample the local liqueur. After the har had taken their order, Darq braced himself to address another sensitive topic. ‘Do you have plans now?’ he asked carelessly.
Ookami sniffed the liqueur and sipped it, then regarded the glass. ‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘As to your question: not particularly. I’ll return to my teacher. He might have further work for me.’
Darq took a breath. ‘Would you work for me?’
Ookami considered this, then asked, ‘In what capacity?’
Darq shrugged. ‘I’m not really sure yet. I value your counsel, and I expect I should have security staff. If I have to have somehar for that, I’d prefer it to be you.’
Ookami nodded, pulled a face. ‘I might not be able to give you more than a couple of years, but if you need me for a while, I’m sure that will be acceptable. I’ll have to discuss it with my teacher, of course.’
Darq was flooded with relief. He’d expected he’d have to do more persuading. ‘Yes, I understand that. As long as you’re happy with the idea.’
‘It will be an interesting experience.’ Ookami turned the glass in his hands. ‘I haven’t spent any time in Immanion before. It seems an ideal place to indulge the senses. Occasionally, I allow myself that.’ He laughed.
Darq grinned and raised his glass. Ookami did also, and they clinked the glasses together. ‘To interesting times,’ said Darq.
Darq had intended to speak with Thiede alone concerning certain things that Divozenky had told him, but ultimately decided that Lileem should also be included in the conversation, simply because a lot of what he had to say concerned her. They met at Thiede’s apartment in Phaonica. Thiede had spent a couple of weeks refurbishing the rooms, so as to make a completely new home. Now, it was an airy abode of simplistic design.
Thiede conducted them into his sitting room, where jewel-colored tasseled cushions were arranged upon the floor; they were the only ostentatious touch in an otherwise fairly bare yet elegant chamber. The room was at the back of the palace, so faced the hills rather than the ocean. The day was overcast, so Thiede had drawn down the window blinds. The room was lit by soft lamplight and sandalwood incense filled the air.
Househara brought out hot spiced wine and thin orange-flavored biscuits, which they arranged upon a low table as Thiede’s guests sat down.
‘This is a lovely room,’ Lileem said and then laughed. ‘How many times have I said that over the past few days?’
‘You like Immanion?’ Thiede asked, handing her a glass of wine held in a silver casing with a handle.
Lileem accepted the cup. ‘I do. Very much. But then I like Shilalama too. This room wouldn’t be out of place there.’
Thiede smiled. ‘Opalexian and I no doubt share a liking for soothing environments.’ He gestured at Darq. ‘Well, now you’re here and you want to talk, so please, let’s not waste any more time. We can indulge ourselves in small talk later.’
Darq inclined his head. ‘OK.’ He turned to Lileem. ‘I know how long you’ve worked in Shaa Lemul and why you kept doing it. You wanted to know about our origins. It’s something Thiede also wants to know, and now I can tell you what Divozenky revealed to me about it.’
Lileem’s eyes were wide. ‘Go on…’
Darq looked at Thiede. ‘Wraeththu were created deliberately, as you suspected.’
Thiede nodded, but did not interrupt.
‘Opalexian was not the first experiment,’ Darq continued, ‘but she was the first successful attempt, in that she survived, even if she didn’t fulfill all the expectations her creators had had. She is unique. You came after her.’
Thiede shifted upon his cushion, rested his chin in
one hand. ‘So, the most important question: who created us?’
Darq ducked his head. ‘I’ll explain. The Zehk have always considered humanity to be tainted, because their blood had mingled with the rebel Zehk’s. The fact was that humanity’s treatment of this world, through the governments and corporations that were controlled by the descendents of the rebels, was affecting Divozenky’s essence. The Zehk felt they had to act to preserve this realm from further depredation. Divozenky was somewhat affronted by this, because she’s quite capable of taking action herself if things get too bad on her skin, as it were. She felt that humanity, and the Krim Sri too, were simply undergoing a change. It was like puberty; perhaps uncomfortable, but essential. She saw humans as being like stroppy teenagers, belligerent and selfish, because that’s simply part of growing up.
‘But anyway, the Zehk didn’t have her perception or patience. They were concerned only about her resources. It was they who subtly influenced a certain scientist to create a new being, what she supposed would be a kind of super human. Falling fertility levels through pollution meant that something had to be done. Certain animals in the wild were already subject to gender alteration. An agent of the Zehk gave this woman the knowledge to create an androgynous being that would be genetically superior to homo sapiens. She and her team unwittingly created the race that would supplant their own kind. She was intoxicated by the knowledge she’d received, but she didn’t know everything.’
Thiede nodded. ‘It’s what I’ve suspected for a while, almost down to the fine detail.’
Darq drew in his breath, because he wasn’t sure how Thiede would feel about what he would say next. ‘Your father knew what you were, Thiede. The place where you lived as a child, the facility where your father worked was where the idea for Wraeththu was born.’
Thiede frowned. ‘But they took me to doctors and so on. They thought I was a freak.’
‘Your mother did,’ Darq said. ‘She was an unwitting guinea-pig. She thought she simply had fertility treatment, but it was more than that.’
The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence Page 49