Pellaz drew in his breath. ‘We perform our own private Grissecon,’ he said. ‘In the garden. If it’s ritualized, it will be easier.’
Galdra nodded. ‘As you wish.’
‘First we finish the wine.’
Pellaz knew it was important to remain focused. He must keep Loki in his mind, and also Lileem. As he threw back his head to down the last dregs from his glass, he called silently upon the dehar Aruhani. Now is the time I need you more than ever. He put the glass down on the low table in front of him. The wine had affected him pleasantly; he felt far mellower than when he’d arrived. He glanced at Galdra and then stood up.
The doors to the garden were open, and beyond them all was still. Galdra followed Pellaz out onto the lawn. It felt too exposed there to Pellaz; he needed to feel more enclosed. A gazebo covered in climbing jasmine stood a short distance off, screened by cypresses. It must be there. Nearby, a fountain in the shape of a rearing horse spat crystal streams into a wide marble half shell. Pellaz knelt here to take a mouthful of water. He was conscious of Galdra standing behind him. Now it had to be done.
When he rose to his feet again, Galdra put his hands on Pell’s arms and turned him round. Nothing was said. They shared breath in the starlight, cautiously recalling the past; how it had felt, what they had done. Was it possible to recapture that time as if the intervening years had never been? Galdra’s voice was a murmur in Pell’s head. No, it isn’t possible. This is now. Live it.
I think it was the feeling that got us there, not the act, Pell told him.
Perhaps, but what you cannot see is that Loki was the reward for that work, not a punishment. He is our responsibility and we must help him, whatever our feelings. And – as you said earlier – we must help him in the here and now, not the past.
Pellaz drew away from Galdra. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘We will reach Lileem, I swear it, by all the dehara.’
Galdra smiled and put a hand against Pell’s face. ‘I know.’
They went into the gazebo, where the delicate flowers hung over them, occasionally dropping down as if Aruhani was shaking the slender branches. The smell of jasmine was very strong, almost narcotic. Pellaz surrendered himself as a sacrifice to the dehar of aruna. It was both Grissecon and personal; a balm over a wound perhaps, but ultimately not difficult at all. Pellaz knew this body beside him. They shared a skill and a history. Cal had been right: there was no other way.
It seemed that Aruhani had heard the Tigron’s prayer. He was present in his most benevolent aspect, as the guide and protector. Very quickly, Pellaz slipped inside his own being, feeling calm and centered. He found himself in the cauldron of creation, and Galdra was with him as a separate form. Previously, they had always visited this place as a combined creature; perhaps this new development was evidence of the way things were between them now.
The cauldron could take many forms, but the way it appeared to them on this occasion was as a jetty that poked out over an ocean of sky; a terminal for travel. Pellaz could not see Aruhani, but could sense him strongly. He was an invisible giant hanging before them, haloed by and comprised of stars.
Pellaz knew he should summon transport and sent out a strong call. Presently, a beautiful ship came towards them, trailing a sparkling cosmic mist. Its sails were silver and its figurehead was a smiling carving of Aruhani. Just by willing it so, Pellaz and Galdra boarded the ship, and it turned in a graceful circle, heading back the way it had come.
This is… different, Galdra said.
For me too, Pellaz said. Think of Lileem, Galdra. Think of the realm of the library. I have been there before. I’ll give you images. He paused. This journey is not without risk. The last time I went to that place it was very difficult to leave, but that was with the sedim. This might be different.
We’ll make it so.
Ahead was an immense shimmering portal of purple cloud, which hung in the firmament like a nebula. The ship headed directly towards it.
This is it, Pellaz said. He took Galdra’s hand. It felt warm, alive and solid in his grasp, amazingly real. Pellaz had no sense of what was happening to their bodies in reality. The experience was entirely objective. Perhaps they had never left their flesh this completely before. We should have posted guards, he said. We have left ourselves too vulnerable in the realm of earth.
Galdra squeezed his fingers. We are safe. Don’t worry. Aruhani watches over us.
They were enfolded by the purple glow, which eclipsed all other impressions. Pellaz tasted honey and oranges in the back of his throat. He smelled baking bread. Then the purple light was something else: a gigantic sun surrounded by a red nimbus and he was looking up at it. He stood naked upon the shifting silvery sands of an alien realm, his hand still held in Galdra’s. They were in a wide canyon, surrounded by high cliffs that glittered with white and violet points in the light of the strange sun. Overhead, myriad heavenly bodies soared and danced. Pellaz was sure that if he listened hard enough, he’d hear their ecstatic song. This was Lileem’s realm, he was sure of it. There was no protective bubble around him, as there had been when the sedim had brought him here before. He and Galdra were simply standing there, and there was no ship. Did this mean they were trapped?
‘Well, I think we made it,’ Pellaz said. ‘I don’t want to worry you, but it appears our transport has vanished.’
‘I had noticed that,’ Galdra said. ‘I hope Lileem doesn’t stand on ceremony; we are both naked.’
‘Considering that aruna gets hara and parazha here, that’s one of the hazards.’ Pellaz laughed. ‘Well, I don’t think that’s the case for Lileem now, so we’ll have to hope she can help us to leave her realm, when the time comes.’
Galdra turned round in a circle. ‘I can’t believe I’m here. It’s the most amazing place. It doesn’t feel like a vision, but totally real.’
‘That’s because it is real,’ Pellaz said. ‘We are technically in two places at once.’ He grabbed Galdra’s arm. ‘Something’s just occurred to me. The last time I came here, it was even more physically, since I didn’t leave my earthly form behind. Also, when Lileem and Terez came, they did the same thing. Perhaps that’s why we all found it difficult to leave. I hope I’m right, but I think that visiting here astrally might make it easier to escape.’
‘A good theory,’ Galdra said. ‘I hope you’re right too. Let’s trust to our superior wills and believe it.’ He pursed his lips. ‘So… do you recognise this location?’
Pellaz gazed around himself. ‘No, but then I was here for only minutes last time. Aruhani will have brought us to somewhere near Lileem, I’m sure.’
‘Call her.’
‘Yes…’ Pellaz considered projecting a mind call, but then decided that in this place it was probably not necessary. He simply opened his lungs and yelled: ‘Lileem!’
The call flew from cliff to cliff, echoing around them. It mutated into a cry like that of seagulls, flying off in all directions. ‘If she doesn’t hear that, she’s not in this realm,’ Pellaz said.
Gradually, the call ebbed away, occasionally becoming louder briefly, before dying out completely. Pellaz and Galdra waited. After some time, Galdra said, ‘Perhaps you should call again.’
Pellaz was just about to do so, when he noticed an indistinct, shadowy form approaching them. He pointed. ‘There, Galdra, do you see?’
‘Yes!’
Pellaz raised both his arms and waved; a ridiculous thing to do, he thought wryly, since the approaching figure was clearly heading towards them and knew they were there. It grew taller as it drew near; a thin creature clad in a robe of deepest crimson, with long black hair hanging over the breast to the waist.
‘That’s not Lileem,’ Galdra said, stating the obvious.
‘No,’ Pellaz said.
The figure halted a few feet away from them and bowed extravagantly. ‘Tigron, you are most welcome.’
‘Ponclast,’ Pellaz said. For one terrible moment, he wondered whether the erstwhile Varr leader had som
ehow murdered his friend. ‘Where is Lileem?’
‘She is away on business, tiahaar,’ Ponclast replied. ‘May I help you?’
‘Away on business?’ Pellaz couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice. ‘That’s absurd. Where is she? I must speak with her at once.’
Ponclast smiled graciously. ‘I’m afraid that’s quite impossible, tiahaar. You will have to speak to me.’
Chapter Thirteen
At some point in her timeless existence, Lileem had come to the conclusion she was no longer parage. To be sure, she rarely experienced self-awareness, except for those occasions when she ran across her captive guest in the labyrinth of the library. She had seized Ponclast from Fulminir, at Pellaz’s request, without really thinking that afterwards she’d be sharing her private realm with another living being. Not that he was any trouble; her realm stultified emotions. Whatever rages had torn at Ponclast’s soul were quelled now, but he still had memories of them. When Lileem looked into his eyes, she was reminded of what she’d been. She saw in his gaze a receding echo of all those hot troubled feelings that had plagued her life. It was good to be rid of them, to be so complete and sure.
Ponclast had adapted as well as any living creature could to existence in Lileem’s realm. She called it hers, because she believed that in some way she had created it. As she roamed the library galleries beneath the silver sands, she felt affinity with the great stone tablets that contained all the knowledge of creation. She did not feel love, because emotions didn’t exist for her.
The library could be entered by a vertical shaft that rose and fell through no apparent mechanism other than the intention of those who wished to visit the lower chambers. Above the library rose a magnificent pyramidal structure that was a warren of chambers and passages, with a central vault that contained an immense seated statue. This statue was so big it was impossible to see its face. The pyramid was empty but for the statue. Lileem had no idea what race had built the pyramid and the library, or when. Sometimes, she suspected they hadn’t been built at all and she’d simply dreamed them into being. The library was a vast labyrinth filled with large stone tablets that were carved with words, pictures and hieroglyphs. These ‘books’ were written in many different languages, not all of them of the earthly realm. Lileem was convinced that the secrets of how Wraeththu and Kamagrian came to be were hidden in the library. She had devoted her life to finding them.
Immediately after arriving in Lileem’s realm, Ponclast had remained huddled in a tight ball, more like a harling than a grown har, which perhaps was only to be expected. Lileem didn’t anticipate Ponclast would share her enthusiasm, so didn’t try to coerce him to help her search. She deposited him in a chamber of the pyramid, telling herself she was his jailer, not his caretaker. Anyway, she had work to do. Ponclast no longer had to eat and drink, of course, or even sleep. He had a lot of room either to go utterly mad or become more like Lileem. Ultimately, it appeared he opted for the latter choice. She knew he was confused by the fact that he didn’t want to attack her: she was responsible for his incarceration in this realm, after all. But strong feeling, hope and desire had been left behind. It was difficult to become bored, but Ponclast was an intelligent har, and eventually, once madness no longer seemed an option, he became curious. Lileem had left him alone, but finally he had looked for her, and after a protracted search, found her in one of the galleries of the library.
His first question was: ‘What are you?’
Lileem was surprised to see him, since it was the first time one of them had initiated an intentional meeting. She was sitting on the floor with one of the stone books in her hands. She had been running her fingers over the glyphs it contained, with her eyes closed, hoping the meaning would come to her as she felt the marks. ‘What do you see?’ she asked in return.
Ponclast loomed over her; a tall thin har still clad in the deep crimson robe he’d worn when she’d taken him into her custody. His ragged black hair fell to his hips; his hands were beautiful. ‘A har can call himself she,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think you are har. You’re wearing the garb of a woman, but neither are you female or human.’ He gestured at her torn skirts.
Lileem touched the fabric. ‘That’s because I was wearing it when I first came here. There was a reason for it.’
‘This is your landscape, you’re part of it. That is what makes you not har.’
‘I was Kamagrian,’ Lileem explained. ‘But not any more.’
‘What is this place?’
She gestured with one hand. ‘A library.’
‘Is there anyhar else here?’
‘Not that I’ve seen.’
‘Why am I here?’
‘It’s your prison, Ponclast. You’re here so you don’t cause trouble for hara.’
‘Where is this place?’
‘I think it is best described as another exit point of the otherlanes. We must assume there are countless other realms, apart from earth.’
Ponclast frowned. ‘You mean a different planet?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the same place but in a different layer of reality. Things are not the same here. You already know this.’
‘What must I do?’
Lileem shrugged. ‘That is your choice. Do what you like. You won’t be going home – ever – so I suggest you find something to occupy yourself. You could read the books, as I do.’ She could tell Ponclast was yet too dazed to think straight. He was not normally the type to ask plaintive advice off anyhar. He hadn’t yet accepted what had happened to him was real.
Although it was difficult to assess the passage of time in that realm, Lileem had accepted it did in some way exist, albeit perhaps slightly differently to what inhabitants of the earthly realm experienced. There were days, because different suns held sway in the sky at different times. When the violet sun rose, it was easier to find things that made sense to her in the library. At those times, she could read script that would otherwise be meaningless marks. Perhaps in an attempt to create some kind of routine, Ponclast began also to read the books, although he so far had only investigated those he could read. Some of these were just pictures. He had become childlike, in certain ways. Lileem did not question him about his life and he didn’t volunteer any information. Lileem realised that she enjoyed his presence, which was odd, because she’d never felt lonely.
Once, Ponclast said to her, ‘Who built this place? Have you ever found the answer to that?’
‘I think it builds itself,’ she replied. ‘It changes constantly. You can never find a book in the same place twice.’
‘Have you ever found a book twice?’
‘Yes. Sometimes, all I ever do is find the same book. The way to stop that is to look for it in places where you found it before. Then you’ll get something new.’
‘You’re not a prisoner here, are you? Not in the same way I am.’
‘It’s my choice to be here,’ Lileem said. ‘I prefer it.’
‘But you can leave. You came for me, so you can leave.’
‘I went into a book, that’s all,’ she said. ‘A book of Pellaz har Aralis. He spoke to me from the stone.’
‘He’s not that different from me.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Lileem said.
‘I want to know what happened before I came here. That’s what I will look for.’
‘Then it’s what we’re both looking for. I think the book with that information runs before us.’
Unlike Lileem, Ponclast was not eager to release the world of his birth. He was puzzled by his experiences, and wanted to know exactly what part he’d had in whatever it was that had occurred. Who were the Hashmallim, the strange otherworldly allies who had freed him from the Forest of Gebaddon? What did they really want? Had they been defeated at Fulminir? Ponclast didn’t think so. He eventually told Lileem about Abrimel, the Tigron’s son, and how they had once loved each other. He spoke of his own son, Geburael, and wondered what had happened to him.
In his words, howeve
r slight, was the implication he wished Lileem would try and find out for him. She never responded to this unspoken request. She couldn’t try and communicate with Pellaz yet. She was still searching for something and she knew that when she found it, it would be time to go home. More than once, she wondered what would happen to Ponclast then. She didn’t want to leave the library, but knew it was her destiny. It was possible that when she went back to the earthly realm, Pell’s highchildren might be ruling Immanion in his place. Terez might be long dead.
‘What exactly is it you’re looking for?’ Ponclast asked her once.
‘The meaning behind Wraeththu and Kamagrian,’ she replied. ‘What caused us, how we are different, and what keeps us apart.’
‘Explain,’ Ponclast said. ‘You’ve spoken of Kamagrian before. What is it?’
Of course, Ponclast had been confined in Gebaddon when the Kamagrian first made their existence known to Wraeththu. ‘We are like Wraeththu in most respects,’ Lileem said. ‘In fact, I wonder whether we are the same thing, really, only at a different end of the scale. We are born to hara, only when we hatch, we appear primarily female. This changes as we mature. At first, Kamagrian believed they could not incept human females to be like them, but I incepted someone by accident, so we discovered it is possible after all. Gender in humanity was never the black and white thing most people supposed – I’ve learned that much. I think it might be the same for us. Kamagrian identify more with the soume aspect than ouana, but perhaps this is simply a choice. I don’t know. Some hara are very feminine, such as Terzian the Varr’s erstwhile consort, Cobweb. And some Kamagrian are more like Terzian the warrior, so who’s to say? Do you think that the reason you were so aggressive as a Varr was because the feminine aspect of your nature frightened you?’
It was the first time they had touched upon the more sensitive areas of his personal history. Ponclast considered her question. ‘Savagery, in itself, can be a belief system. Youthful male humans are, or were, capable of terrible things. I did terrible things and at the time it seemed right. There was a heady euphoria to doing the unspeakable, like being a god. I believed the Varrs should control Megalithica – I wouldn’t go so far as to say I planned world domination. Uigenna were a mess, and the other tribes weak and fragmented. I could see that Wraeththu needed order. The Varrs were accused of many things; perhaps more than half of those accusations were justified. The rest were fictions. I was driven by resentment, frustration, scorn… other things… Fear. Yes. Perhaps you are right. But in Fulminir, the second time, I was a dark queen rather than an evil overlord. That was my choice. In Gebaddon, I accepted my nature, and embraced it. Gebaddon does strange things to the mind. Perhaps, if I’d not been confined there, I would have been different.’
The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence Page 18