‘Except that the Varrs have been conquered in my realm,’ Loki said. ‘Who do you identify with: Gelaming or Varrs?’ He smiled and felt his hostling’s fire in his eyes.
Zikael did not react to this question. ‘What we would like you to consider is that in any conflict, each side seeks power and believes their way to be right and the enemy’s to be wrong. Both sides think this. The truth is that there is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, only viewpoints that oppose each other. We want you to know our viewpoint; that is all. You are currently biased against us, and for that we hold no grudge. You are young and uninformed. I am here to enlighten you.’
‘Forgive me,’ Loki said, sounding more courageous than he felt, ‘I might be uninformed, but my instincts are acute. My instincts tell me you are full of deceit and cunning, and that I should not trust you. That has nothing to do with bias, but mere gut reaction.’
Zikael smiled. ‘You are not wrong in your assumption, and as a future ruler, you should not accept someone’s words as truth without checking the facts. I can tell you this: often, I act as an agent in precarious situations, and my ability to be cunning is essential for survival. I do not ask you to trust me, only to listen. Then you can make up your own mind.’
‘If you admit to deceit, how can I believe what you say? It makes no sense.’
‘Just listen. The creatures you know as sedim are agents like me, but for the faction that opposes the Hashmallim. For eons, they have made use of the resources of your realm, and to Wraeththu they have shown more of their true form, albeit disguising themselves as genial beasts of burden. The har Thiede delved too deep into the inner realms, and discovered their existence. They spun lies to beguile him, which he believed for a time.
‘The fact is that our rivals have made free with your realm, and their agents have moved unseen among its peoples. They gave rise to the legends of gods and monsters, because sometimes, especially in the distant past, they interacted with humanity. The human race was more fearful and superstitious then, and was more inclined to believe in supernatural beings. Our rivals would say that they nurtured the sentient beings of the earth, as a protective mother; but that is a smothering protection. Not all of their own kind agreed with such methods.’
Zikael paused, as if in polite anticipation of questions. Loki merely said: ‘Go on.’
Zikael inclined his head. ‘Very well. Our way is different. We believe in rewarding those who serve us. We are not opposed to advancement. We see no benefit in stultifying the growth of lesser realms. If a realm becomes aware of us, we think it is then time to educate its peoples, not to keep them in ignorance. Essentially, both we and our rivals want the same thing. We are simply more open about it and seek to demonstrate the relationship can be symbiotic rather than parasitic.’
Zikael smiled, and gestured graciously with both hands. ‘You don’t have to like me, Loki, or even trust me, as I said. I just want you to think about the fact that the sedim have never been honest with Wraeththu, as we have. Even now, they hide their true identities and purpose. If you stood before one of them and told them what you know, they’d simply stare back at you like a dumb beast and pretend they could not understand.’
The information Loki had received dazed him. It was like a mythical history, and hard to credit as real. But Zikael clearly expected a response. Loki swallowed. His mouth felt too dry. ‘If the sedim seek to confound us so much, why even give us access to the otherlanes at all?’
Zikael hesitated, then said, ‘Just a few crumbs from the table. Thiede encountered a sedu in one of his astral excursions. He caught and traveled with it, perhaps not even knowing why he did so. The sedim and their masters know that Wraeththu are far more than humanity ever was, and not so stupid and blind. If they don’t give a little something, hara like Thiede would only keep delving. Then, there is the risk that more truth would be uncovered. The sedim do not want that.’
‘Give me the names of these two main factions you talk about,’ Loki said. ‘You have not done so yet. Why?’
‘The names would mean little to you, but all right. In your tongue, my kind are the Aasp, founders of the great Aaspori empire that spans many realms. Our rivals are the Zehk. These words do not exist for us; they are merely labels for others to use. Our language is like music; it also involves the senses, such as the primitive ones of taste and smell. There are other senses, beyond what hara can comprehend, and these are involved also. Part of my profession is linguistics. I teach others of my kind how to communicate with lower beings, and how to adopt the forms that facilitate such things.’
Loki had moved from dazed terror and mistrust to fascination. He realised he was standing before what equated to an alien being, from a race far older than humanity or any other species on earth. ‘I must know what you want of me exactly,’ he said. ‘What are your plans?’
‘We wish only to end the dispute,’ Zikael said. ‘A good general knows that physical conflict should always be a last resort. The skirmish at Fulminir was unwise, initiated by an individual who acted too hastily. It is our Masters’ wish to avoid such conflict. Any confrontation between the teraphim and the sedim is doomed to stalemate. They cannot destroy each other exactly, only expel. It is our wish for you to become an advocate for us with your kind.’
Loki wondered how he, a young and inexperienced har, could really be of use to these creatures, other than as a gullible cat’s paw. They were clearly far more advanced and powerful than Wraeththu, so why couldn’t they just take what they wanted? ‘What benefits would Wraeththu receive from co-operation?’ he asked, aware that the diplomatic training he had received at home was asserting itself.
‘We would give you more access to the otherlanes. There are certain realms you could visit or even colonise, should you so wish. We have no objection to that. The Zehk would never allow that.’
‘And what would the Zehk give us? Supposing you’ll give me a true answer…’
‘They regard themselves as protectors, but they do not believe that species such as Wraeththu should be given knowledge. They would say to you that it is up to your own kind to advance yourselves, yet at the same time they work to prevent that advancement. Ultimately, Loki, as far as mundane life is concerned, there would be no discernible difference to Wraeththu, whichever faction gained control. Some hara might even wish to let the matter resolve itself, without involvement. That too is your choice, but like I said, I’m here to give you information, so that the choice you make will be based on understanding, not ignorance.’
Loki hesitated. ‘I would like the gift that Geburael and Diablo have – the ability to travel the otherlanes without a sedu. Give me this, let me see these realms you speak of, then I’ll be more disposed to make a choice.’
‘At this stage, I am not permitted to allow you to return home,’ Zikael said.
‘I wasn’t speaking of home,’ Loki said. ‘I want to understand this conflict. I want to know what it is your kind gets from our realm. I want to see other realms. I know that restraints can be put upon the sedim, so I presume you can do the same to me. Let me travel. You can keep the earthly realm off limits to me.’
Zikael considered. ‘I will communicate with my Master about this,’ he said. ‘Your request is not unreasonable.’
‘I would like to meet your Master.’
‘You can’t. He is one of the Faceless Ones.’
‘And what are they?’ Loki asked. He was struggling to ask the right questions, but what he was hearing was so beyond his experience, he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
‘Beings you would find it very hard to perceive. They have no contact with lower species.’
Zikael stood up, and it was only then that Loki realised how tall the Hashmal was. It looked eerie, unnatural. ‘I will leave you now,’ Zikael said. ‘Think about the matters we have discussed, formulate any further questions, and we will soon speak again.’
Zikael bowed politely, and then somehow the air swallowed him up, until all that remaine
d was a pinprick of bright blue radiance, which disappeared with an audible pop. A faint breeze was left behind that smelled of a perfume Loki could not identify. The scent made him feel strange; excited, fearful and nostalgic.
For some minutes, Loki remained where he stood at the top of Apanage. He felt bewildered. The conversation with Zikael seemed like a dream; it couldn’t have happened, could it? Loki tilted back his head and gazed at the starless sky. At home, stargazing made him think of the immensity of the universe, but here the empty blackness conveyed a greater kind of space. Loki had never been so conscious of how small and insignificant he was, yet at the same time he felt renewed and powerful.
He had no wish to speak with Geburael or Diablo; not yet. He sensed that Geburael was looking for him, so went back into the tower and began to descend the levels, his skin alert for Geburael’s presence. Proximity to Zikael must have done something to him, because when he entered a chamber where Diablo and Geburael were talking, they did not notice him. Loki could slip past them, slinking along the wall of the room like a disembodied shadow.
Outside, Loki walked among the towers, mulling over what he’d learned. As far as he could see it, and he was still not totally convinced he knew the whole story, the Aasp simply wanted Wraeththu to change affiliation, and were prepared to make the deal sweet with privileges and gifts. But what was it exactly that the Aasp — and the Zehk, for that matter — took from the earthly realm? Did Wraeththu have to ally with one faction or the other? Was there perhaps a third way? He had to admit that didn’t seem feasible. Wraeththu were harlings compared with these creatures. A politician would listen to both sides, and he was destined to be a politician. He would say this to Zikael next time they met up and see how the Aasp reacted.
Thinking about it all had given him a severe headache, or maybe Zikael had inadvertently affected him in that way too. He hadn’t eaten anything either. The pain made him feel dizzy.
Loki was so deep in thought, he didn’t notice at first that the three local Thanax were trailing him. Were they after his warmth again? He stopped and turned to face them. ‘Go away,’ he ordered.
The Thanax huddled together, their thin bodies dipping and swaying like serpents. They were sniffing the air and trembling, as if the warm scent of him was driving them mad. Loki was reminded of a pack of starving, loyal hounds, who were standing before fresh meat their master had forbidden them to eat. A pang of pity went through him. ‘I can’t give you warmth,’ he said. ‘I’ve already told you that.’ He rubbed his temples, which were throbbing.
One of the Thanax detached himself from the group and sidled forward. ‘Let us eat your pain,’ he said.
‘What?’ Loki took some steps backward.
‘Do not be afraid. I will not harm you. You see me as a parasite, I know, but there are some forms of heat you can do without. I can take it away.’
It took all of Loki’s will not to flee as the Thanax approached him. ‘Explain,’ he said. ‘You mean my headache?’ He laughed, somewhat nervously.
The Thanax was very close to him now and had extended a skeletal arm. ‘Let me touch you.’
‘I don’t think…’
The Thanax, however, was clearly too driven to be ignored. He’d got this close. Swiftly, he pressed the fingers of one hand against Loki’s head. Loki tried to pull away, but a powerful magnetism held him to the spot. He felt a strange tearing sensation in his head, tried to cry out, and then the Thanax was backing away, staring at something he held in his bunched fingers. He licked his lips, and seemed about to devour it, but his companions leapt forward with a cry. For some moments there was a scuffle. Loki watched in fascinated horror. The Thanax who had touched him held a small oily globe of light, which because of the assault, he was obliged to break into three parts and share with the others. Each Thanax devoured it with evident pleasure, then stood swaying, eyes closed. Loki thought he could hear them purring, or making a sound very like that. He also realised his headache had gone. Pain is energy, he thought. And they have taken it from me.
After a short while, the first Thanax opened his eyes and shook himself. The pain seemed to have done him good. ‘It has been a long time for us,’ he said.
‘Well… thank you,’ Loki said. ‘That was… interesting. If pain is heat to you, it’s a fire that any har would be happy to give you, I’m sure.’
‘Heat brings clarity,’ said the Thanax. ‘We see you properly for the first time. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m…’ Loki paused. ‘Listen, before that, do you have a name?’
The Thanax inclined his head. ‘I am called Atoz, and these are my brothers, Sokh and Tur. These were names we had once. When we have clarity, we still use them. We think they came from a long time ago.’
‘I am Loki. Loki har Aralis har Gelaming, to be precise. You know of the Gelaming?’
Atoz frowned and shook his head. ‘No, we know very little. We can only feed in the spirit paths.’
‘Then you must have met Gelaming,’ Loki said, ‘since very few hara of other tribes can use the otherlanes.’
‘Perhaps.’ Loki could sense that Atoz was confused by his words.
‘As to why I’m here,’ Loki explained, ‘let’s say I’m a captive of sorts. The other hara brought me here, the ones in the towers. But I intend to leave very soon.’
‘It is very difficult for entities to leave here,’ said Atoz, ‘owing to the barrier.’
‘What barrier?’
Atoz pointed at the sky. ‘The veil,’ he said.
‘Can you tell me about it?’
Atoz nodded. ‘We can tell you what we know of this realm,’ he said. ‘It will be a gift in return for the heat you gave us.’ He beckoned. ‘Come, follow us.’
The Thanax went off in a single file towards the hills where Loki had first communicated with them. He followed behind them, and not once did they attempt to talk to him during the first part of the journey. Loki didn’t know where they were taking him, or why, but neither did he feel threatened. They walked for what seemed like a long time, to areas that Loki had never visited before. When he looked back, he could still see the highest towers of Thannaril in the distance, so did not worry about becoming lost. They walked along a ridge, where a wide circular valley lay below. In the middle of this was a strange lumpy structure that looked partly like a natural rock formation and partly like some kind of castle. Here, Atoz paused and pointed downwards. ‘That is Tenebrian, the place where the vengeful reside,’ he said. ‘They know things you don’t want to know.’
‘The vengeful?’ Loki asked warily.
‘Those like us who you must avoid. Come. We must not linger.’
‘What do they know?’ Loki asked as the line set off once more.
Atoz did not answer.
Eventually, the narrow path disgorged the travelers into what appeared to be a roofless cavern. The rock walls were pale and looked porous, pocked with many small holes. At one time, this realm must have been something other than a dry and arid place, because Loki had the strong impression these ancient rocks had been shaped by water. There were many natural caves, and here the group of Thanax had made their home, such as it was.
Atoz led Loki to one of the caves, and once he was inside it, Loki thought that the Thanax lived like animals. There were no decorations, no tools lying around, nothing at all, in fact, to suggest the cave was occupied by sentient beings. What did they do with their time? He couldn’t believe they spent it in conversation, and it was evidently not spent in creative pursuits.
‘Sit,’ said Atoz.
There was no hearth, no central hub to this dwelling, just a dusty floor, worn smooth by many feet. Loki sat down against one of the walls. Sokh and Tur stood by a shadowed entrance to what appeared to be an inner chamber to the cave. They stared straight ahead, like guardians or mute beasts.
Atoz composed himself before Loki. ‘We have brought no other here,’ he said.
Loki inclined his head. ‘I’m grateful for
whatever you can tell me.’
There was no expression in Atoz’s eyes; Loki suspected he could have none. How strange to be sitting here with this impossible being, talking about an impossible world. Loki reflected on how adaptable the harish mind must be, to accept these impossibilities without losing its reason. Could a human have coped so well? He had no idea.
‘I remember being drawn here,’ Atoz said. ‘Before that was terrible pain, the pain of being lost, beyond all words. Those of us who come here take the history of this realm into our being as we are drawn through the veil, for the veil holds all memories of itself. There was once a time, many eons past, when the Thanadrim constructed the cities of towers. This was a different world then, a place of life and activity. Sometimes, if you are very still, the towers will relive their memories for you, and you will see. The Thanadrim had a duty. They regulated the currency of essence between realms, and the towers were the means they used to accomplish their task.’
‘What is the currency of essence between realms?’ Loki asked. He meant to ask many questions.
Atoz ducked his head. ‘It is hard to describe. Even now, having seen it, I am unsure that what I have perceived is truth, or the whole story.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, appearing then more like an ordinary har, thinking hard. ‘Reality is composed of many different layers, and within those layers exist species of sentient creatures of varying degrees of awareness. Worlds, or realms, themselves are sentient creatures. They think very slowly, and in doing so, create.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure…’
‘It’s all right,’ Loki said. ‘Go on.’
‘I – and my brothers – would be half-formed creatures but for the towers. They gave us awareness and knowledge, even if we lack the other things that would make us har. From them, we learned that certain species worked with the essence of realms, taking the thoughts of the worlds, the dreams, and…’ Atoz slapped one hand against the rocky floor. ‘No! I cannot describe it. I cannot!’
‘Please.’ Loki reached out and gently laid his fingers on Atoz’s shoulder. The creature was warm beneath his hand: alive. ‘Try.’
The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence Page 21