The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

by Storm Constantine

  ‘Are all heavenly bodies alive and thinking creatures?’ Darq asked.

  Nimron shook his head. ‘Not all, no. Some are dead.’

  Darq pressed his fingers against his temples. His head was pounding. ‘It’s so much to take in.’

  ‘Do you need to rest?’ Tiy asked. ‘You can do that before you return to your friends, if you wish.’

  ‘No,’ Darq said. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute. It’s just all so very strange. I’ve recently undergone an unbelievable experience and yet it felt so… normal.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what else to say.’

  ‘It felt that way because to you it is normal,’ Tiy said.

  ‘Did you receive information concerning the Krim Sri?’ Nimron asked.

  Darq flexed his jaw. His whole face felt stiff. ‘Yes. I’ll negotiate for you to guarantee your safety. I know now I’ve got bargaining power! I don’t know when or how I’m going to do it, but I’ll do what I can at the right moment.’

  Tiy leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘I trust you,’ she said.

  Darq took her hand. ‘You’ve given me so much. I think we were meant to meet. Helping keep your people safe is the least I can do.’

  ‘We’ve not given you that much,’ Tiy said. ‘Just a helping hand, that’s all.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the realm of Shaa Lemul, Ponclast and Pellaz stood together on a balcony that jutted out from the Black Library over the silvery sea. They had talked for a long time, and Pellaz had no idea how many days might have passed in his home realm. Lileem had not returned, but then Pellaz expected it would take some time for her and Ta Ke to accomplish their task. In the meantime, Ponclast had proved most informative. Galdra had prudently left them alone, and had gone to investigate the stone books beneath the sands.

  Pellaz considered that the realm was changing, even as he observed it. One era had come to an end; another was beginning. He had a feeling that life was starting to pulse beneath the metallic surface of the ocean that spread away beneath the pyramid. This realm might have been asleep for a long time, or in stasis, but now it must wake. From what Lileem had told him, it occurred to Pell that certain changes might cause difficulty for any earthly creature living here, who had to eat and sleep and so on. The white sun, for example.

  And Ponclast was sentenced to remain. He and Pellaz had talked in depth. Ponclast seemed hungry for it. He had told the Tigron everything that had happened since he’d arrived at the Library. His excitement, which seemed strangely youthful, was infectious. He also talked of the past, wistfully sometimes, but not with bitterness. He was not the har Pellaz had ever expected him to be. How different things might have been if this conversation had taken place a long time ago, perhaps between Thiede and Ponclast. A common ground might have been reached, who could tell?

  Pell realised his mind was drifting. Ponclast was staring at him in a way to suggest he expected a response, yet for the past few moments Pellaz had been barely listening.

  ‘You see, Pellaz,’ Ponclast was saying, ‘we’re not so different, you and I.’

  Pellaz smiled somewhat thinly, and narrowed his eyes. ‘I’ve never committed pelki or murder, nor sought to intimidate the hara of my tribe into obeying me. To me, those are big differences.’

  Ponclast leaned backwards on the balcony rail. ‘Have you never had a despising for your own kind, a fury at the stupidity of beings who are supposed to be superior?’

  Pellaz grimaced. ‘Sometimes, yes I have, but it has never impelled me to commit atrocities.’ He fixed Ponclast with a stare. ‘If you seek to sway my opinion about releasing you from this place, so far your effort hasn’t been very successful.’

  ‘I know you won’t release me,’ Ponclast said. ‘I’m simply interested in talking with you. Previously, I would have delighted only in killing you as quickly as possible.’ He paused. ‘I could be a resource to you, Tigron. If you’re wise, you’ll admit that.’

  ‘Is that so? In what way a resource?’

  Ponclast gestured with one hand. ‘I have firsthand experience of the Hashmallim. I have ruled hara, as you do. I know the dark underbelly of Wraeththu, things a ruler should know, even if he disapproves. There are many ways I could be of use.’

  Pellaz shook his head. ‘You amaze me! Very well. Here’s a question. I’m interested in your response. In my position, would you ally with the Hashmallim?’

  Ponclast considered. ‘No. I dislike the way both the Hashmallim and the sedim conduct themselves. Now, of course, we know they are merely agents of greater powers: the Aasp and the Zehk. They are the thugs of angels. Quite amusing, really.’

  ‘So what would you do, if you were in my place?’

  Ponclast grinned mordantly. ‘I think I’d wait to see what our new friend Ta Ke can do for us. If Thanatep is reactivated, the Aasp and the Zehk will have no choice but to toe the line, hopefully.’

  Pellaz slapped his hands against the balcony rail. ‘But that might mean we’d risk losing otherlanes travel. I wonder whether even those of us who have learned how to do it without sedim might find the ability would be taken away. Is that the best course for Wraeththu and Kamagrian?’

  ‘I think you have some bargaining power,’ Ponclast said. ‘There’ll no doubt be places off limits to hara, but I can’t see why the Thanadrim would object to them using the otherlanes to facilitate travel within their own realm. It is better for the world, since most of the vessels of travel used by humans used to pollute it.’

  ‘There’s a risk Ta Ke will fail,’ Pellaz said. ‘You know that. Then what?’

  ‘To my mind, we – or rather you – have no choice but to stand back and let the Hashmallim and the sedim fight it out. You can’t stand against them. You either make a choice to ally with one, or withdraw completely. Of course, the sedim would not be pleased about that. Do I take it your instinct is to ally with them?’

  Pellaz pulled a sour face. ‘In view of the Fulminir incident, yes.’

  ‘Understandable. But perhaps you should find out what the Hashmallim are prepared to offer.’ Ponclast drew himself up straight. ‘You might not think me impartial, Pellaz, but I am. The Hashmallim made no attempt to help me or rescue me from this place. They used and discarded me as an experiment that didn’t work. I have no loyalty to them. I don’t think the sedim have been entirely honest with you either, which is why you should perhaps consider the alternative.’

  ‘Your counsel is noted,’ Pellaz said. ‘However, I would really like to speak with Ta Ke. Will he return here from Thanatep if he reactivates the towers?’

  Ponclast shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’

  Pellaz sighed. ‘If you can’t be helpful with that, how about being useful regarding my son, Loki? As I said to you before, we believe Diablo has taken him.’

  ‘That’s likely,’ Ponclast said. ‘I certainly wouldn’t put it past him. All I can suggest is that you ask Abrimel to try and contact our son, Geburael. We have to suppose Geburael and Diablo are still together.’

  Pellaz frowned. ‘I doubt that Geburael would co-operate with me. Why should he? Surely, he’ll take the side of his brother?’

  Ponclast shook his head, smiled. ‘Pellaz, as I said to you, we’re more alike than you know. Think about this, and its implications. Abrimel loves me. Go to him. Tell him you’ve seen me. Tell him that even in this forsaken realm, I think of him and miss him. He should be happy, Pellaz. Release him. Let him have a life. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive your oldest son? Perhaps that is the way to have all of them back. If Abrimel is reconciled with you, there’s more chance Geburael will co-operate. Surely you can see this?’

  ‘I will talk to Abrimel,’ Pellaz said.

  ‘He was very kind to me,’ Ponclast said. ‘He gave wise counsel.’ He leaned back upon the rail and let his hair hang down over it. ‘I expect your Loki is a fine young har,’ he said, ‘but what about the son who was taken from you some years ago?’

  ‘The one you tried to steal, you mean?�
� Pellaz snapped.

  Ponclast closed his eyes briefly. ‘Yes. That one. The Hashmallim were very interested in him. They feared him and wanted him dead. If I were you, I’d be concentrating my efforts on finding him.’

  ‘Do you know anything about him?’ Pellaz demanded. ‘Such as his whereabouts?’

  ‘No,’ Ponclast said. ‘But I have a strong intuition about him. When and if Lileem returns here, I’ll tell her we’ve spoken. She’ll be in touch with you, no doubt. Perhaps more than that. I think she knows her time here is nearly at an end.’

  Pellaz hesitated. ‘Then, you will be alone.’

  ‘Perhaps. I’m resigned to my fate.’ Ponclast turned to face the ocean. He sighed deeply. ‘I don’t want to be part of a Wraeththu world that’s designed by Gelaming.’

  ‘We all came from the same source,’ Pellaz said gently.

  Ponclast uttered a bitter laugh. ‘Are you finding pity in your heart for me?’

  ‘Mercy. That’s different.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back, but neither do I want to be alone. Think on this, if you think of mercy, Tigron. That’s all I’ll say.’

  Pellaz nodded. ‘Very well.’ He rubbed his arms. ‘Strange, I feel a chill. Do you feel it?’

  ‘Things are changing here — swiftly,’ Ponclast said. ‘You should return to your home realm.’ He smiled. ‘And put some clothes on!’ He paused. ‘Just how do you plan to return home?’

  Pellaz put his head to one side. ‘As you said, things are changing here. I can feel it. I’ll return the way I came.’

  ‘You’re lucky to work with such a powerful har as Galdra,’ Ponclast said. ‘He is magnificent and very much like Calanthe. Why are you working with him and not your beloved Cal?’

  Pellaz managed to keep his voice level. ‘Galdra and I have a special relationship that means we work together well, that’s all.’

  ‘How fortunate you are!’

  ‘Indeed.’ Pellaz put out a mind call to Galdra, to meet him outside the pyramid, but before he left the balcony he reached out and clasped one of Ponclast’s arms. ‘Goodbye. It’s been useful talking to you.’

  Ponclast returned the clasp. ‘Goodbye, Pellaz. In spite of everything, I wish you luck.’

  Pellaz opened his eyes and found himself lying beneath Galdra in Tharmifex’s garden. Galdra was a dead weight and for several terrifying seconds Pellaz thought that the Freyhellan hadn’t survived the journey from Shaa Lemul. Then Galdra uttered a groaning sigh and rolled from Pell’s body to lie on his back. ‘A dream,’ he said. ‘Was it real?’

  ‘Yes.’ Pellaz leaned over and kissed Galdra’s brow. ‘Thanks for your help.’

  Galdra took a lock of Pell’s hair in his hand. ‘But we didn’t find Lileem. I didn’t help that much.’

  ‘Oh, you did. I wouldn’t have got to that realm without you and now we’ve got more information. The talk with Ponclast was useful. I know we could go there again, you and I.’ Pellaz pulled away from Galdra, who let him go reluctantly.

  Pellaz stood up and began to dress himself. ‘We should go back inside. It’s cold.’

  ‘Only an hour or so has passed,’ Galdra said, indicating the sky. As a sailor, he knew the movements of the stars. ‘Yet it felt like we spent days, if not weeks, in that realm.’

  Pellaz nodded. ‘Time, I think, is a matter of perspective. We traveled without sedim. We know we can do that now. All we used was aruna and our intention. I think we’re beginning to stretch our muscles, magically. This is just the beginning.’

  ‘What will you do now?’

  Pellaz smiled without humor. ‘Face something I don’t want to face,’ he said.

  Pellaz traveled to the prison house, which was located an hour’s ride from Immanion. He did not ride a sedu, but a bay horse that was kept in the stables at Phaonica. For now, he would keep away from the sedim, even Peridot, whom he loved.

  He had felt uneasy when he had discovered that Cal was no longer in Immanion. This news had come from Caeru, who had been waiting for Pellaz in the Tigron’s private apartment. He had slept there and from what he said, it was clear he hadn’t been alone. Pellaz didn’t know whether to feel warmed or slightly annoyed by the fact his consorts had been together in his own bed.

  ‘Cal received communication from Thiede,’ Caeru said. ‘I don’t know exactly what was said, but Cal left here quickly. He wouldn’t speak to me, but he was agitated. He couldn’t hide that. And no, before you even think it, it’s nothing to do with the fact you were with Galdra last night. Are you going to tell me about it?’

  ‘Yes, but not yet,’ Pellaz said. ‘I have an urgent task to attend to. I’ll speak to you later about it.’

  Caeru frowned. ‘You look… odd. Just tell me one thing. Did things go well?’

  ‘They went productively,’ Pellaz answered. He took Caeru’s hands in his own. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can, then we’ll talk.’

  The prison house was surrounded by a high wall and there were iron gates across the entrance to the drive. Once, it had been a rich man’s house, a place where a family had lived, but now its rooms never echoed with voices or laughter. There were ten guards always on duty, and two hara who worked to keep the house clean and to cook. Then there was Abrimel, son of the Tigron. He was a har without a soul, or so the staff said to their friends. He had betrayed his family and his tribe, and felt no remorse. He painted pictures of a thin har with black hair and a red robe. He wrote a lot; all the things he had never written before, which he could remember.

  When Pellaz arrived at the tall iron gates to the estate, the hour was still early, and the househara had only just risen from their beds. Pellaz had to ring the brass bell for several minutes, before the guards who lived in the gate lodge, and who slept longer than the househara, woke up. One of them came to answer the summons. ‘All right, all right!’ the guard snapped irritably, only half dressed. He went pale when he saw who stood on the other side of the iron bars. He bowed his head. ‘Forgive me, tiahaar.’

  ‘Just open the gate,’ Pellaz said.

  He rode the bay horse up the driveway, which was an avenue of cherry trees, barely cared for now. The house was locked up, of course, so Pellaz had to hammer on the door for entrance. He no longer felt like himself. It was as if the realm he and Galdra had returned to was not quite the one they had left. Things were slightly askew. In this realm, Pellaz had been able to spend all night in the arms of a har he had to admit he really did love, and not feel guilty about it. In this realm, perhaps, Cal had never been mad, and certain hara hadn’t died, and there was a son who did not hate his father. Was it possible this was just a house in the country beyond the city, and a har who liked to write about Wraeththu history simply lived here, because he preferred solitude?

  The cook came to answer the door. He bowed. ‘Tiahaar, you are here to see the prisoner?’

  ‘I’m here to see my son,’ Pellaz said. Suddenly, he felt old. He could smell the jasmine that had grown outside the window of the inn in Ferelithia where Abrimel had been conceived. ‘Take me to him at once.’

  It was really pointless to lock all the doors in this house, since Abrimel had no intention of going anywhere. He had lost his love, his harling, his life. He had lost the ability to feel. He had told Caeru not to visit him, because his hostling’s concern only annoyed him. When Caeru sent gifts, they went to the guards, because Abrimel had no interest in luxuries. He didn’t speak to anyhar much, other than what was required. He wrote about all the tribes he had studied. He wrote about Wraeththu, which he viewed as being as pointless as the locks on the doors. He was not denied aruna, and different hara were often sent to him for this purpose. Some just did what they had to do, and weren’t interested in talking. Others wanted to help him. Abrimel treated them all the same. He slaked the need in his body and that was all. He needed a clear mind to write, to paint. All of his pictures were of Ponclast.

  Abrimel always rose at dawn and went to the walled garden he had access to. He did this w
hatever the weather. There, he would sit for an hour, thinking about words, then he’d have his breakfast, if it was ready. He wondered how long he would have to wait to die, sure it would be a very long time. He wished he wanted to kill himself.

  Pellaz stood at the door to the garden and observed this har who had come from him. He had not visited Abrimel before. This son had grown up, become har, without Pellaz even noticing. He was a living thing, full of opinions and pain. I made him, Pellaz thought, and for the first time in his life, sensed the connection. A ghost of Caeru lived in the fine features of Abrimel’s face, and the pale cast to his skin, but his hair was black Cevarro hair. For the first time in many years, Pellaz thought of his own father. He remembered himself, as he’d been, before the world changed. ‘Bree,’ he said.

  Abrimel turned at the sound of this affectionate form of his name. His expression was blank. He showed neither surprise nor anger when he saw who stood at the threshold to his garden.

  Pellaz walked across the grass. ‘I would like to talk to you.’

  Abrimel shrugged.

  Pellaz sat down in a chair opposite his son. There was a wrought iron table between them with some papers on it. Pellaz could not read the handwriting on them. It was spidery and sloping. ‘I’ve visited your consort,’ he said.

  Abrimel’s eyes widened slightly at that. He shifted on his chair.

  ‘He asked me to tell you he thinks of you often and misses you. He is well. We talked for quite a while.’

  Abrimel closed his eyes briefly. He nodded his head once.

  ‘I’m here mainly to talk about Geburael. You know that he was taken by Diablo after the fall of Fulminir?’

  ‘Yes,’ Abrimel said. ‘He at least got away.’

  Pellaz clasped his hands together to the tabletop. ‘Are you in contact with him?’

  Abrimel laughed harshly. ‘No.’

  ‘Would you try to contact him? Ponclast thinks you should do this.’