by Unknown
“Nothing,” said Raven. “You must be aware of what this will do to you. It will wake you up. You will never be able to sleep again.”
“I don't believe you,” Moon said.
Raven almost smiled. “I'm trying to tell you about a new responsibility you will have. Your body will wake up, and you must look after its needs.”
“What about your body?”
Raven didn't answer. He simply began to take off his clothes, so that Moon could see the pale scars against his dark brown skin, scores of them, down his back and along his right flank. It looked like he'd been whipped or attacked by a savage beast, but other than that he was perfect. The scars, in some ways, only emphasised this perfection. “You are like one of the statues,” Moon said, “the ones in the Reliquary.”
“Get undressed,” Raven said.
Moon had no preconceptions whatsoever, and did not feel shy about what must happen. He was nervous, because it might hurt, but other than that was quite content to do as he was asked. He lay down on the damp grass, which was still cold because the sun had not touched it. Overhead, the tree branches swayed and rustled and birds hopped from limb to limb. Moon could see clouds racing across the sky.
Raven lay down beside him and the warmth of skin against skin was pleasant. Raven stroked his back in a way Moon thought somehar had done to him before, presumably his hostling, many years ago. Sometimes, Raven's breath drifted across Moon's face and when it did so, he received impressions of vague fleeting pictures, as if they'd been painted in faint watercolours. Moon had a strong impulse to put his mouth against Raven's own and really taste those images, but Raven carefully avoided such contact. Moon guessed he didn't want to share what was inside him. The stroking and tantalising breath kindled desire in Moon's body. He had never felt such a thing before and was startled by its power and the control it had over him. What was the purpose of it? Raven's caresses became more invasive and Moon saw a picture in his mind of a great door. He knew that behind it was some kind of treasury and that the treasure would not be what he expected. He gasped and arched his body a little and Raven slid on top of him. He put one hand on Moon's face and murmured, “Relax.”
“I can't.” Moon kept his legs clamped close together, knowing he shouldn't, but feeling that once he allowed Raven to do what had to be done, it would change everything forever. He wasn't ready for that change. He hadn't thought about it. This was all too quick. He couldn't stop the tears. Should it be like this?
Raven put his mouth against Moon's lips and gently exhaled. He gave to Moon images of Silken, images of Moon himself as a harling, laughing and playing in sunlight: the two of them together. He gave to Moon images that must have come from Snake, long ago, of dusty red lands and soaring mountains. Moon saw his father as he'd once been: whole and vigorous. These images were not painful, nor did they make Moon sad. He felt a wistful longing for things he'd never had, but it was a sweet longing. He understood, for a brief moment, what living truly was, and how magical it was that hara could come together this way, mingling their beings, sharing all that is deep and passionate. He was sinking into an ocean of soft feathers, the most comfortable place in the world, where pain and sorrow could not exist. This was like entering the otherworld, walking the spirit paths in a place far better than cold reality. He curled his legs against Raven's lean back and Raven pushed inside him.
“This is so strange,” Moon said.
“Hush.”
“But it is. It's so weird that a piece of you is inside me. It's such a strange thing to do. Whoever thought of it?”
“Stop thinking,” Raven said.
But Moon couldn't stop. His body responded fully to physical sensation, but the more it did so, the more his mind raced. He was chattering to himself like a maniac, full of questions. What had made Snake cut himself off from other hara? What had happened to Raven to make him so dour? Where had they come from? Where was the red dusty land? Who had they left behind? He saw a shining web stretching across infinity, and it was studded with points of light. He knew that each of these points represented others who were connected to him and surely now, at this moment, they must be aware of him too. Who were these hara? Where were they?
Raven's movements had become more urgent and deep, his breathing fast and ragged. It was like a storm hurtling across the Sea of Ghosts in a boil of dark cloud to break over the shore. The ground was shaking. The trees were shaking.
Moon opened his eyes, which had been shut tight and saw the branches overhead vibrating wildly. Leaves and twigs were raining down and the hens were screeching in terror. This wasn't aruna: this was real. Moon cried out and tried to pull away from Raven, but the climax of aruna crashed over them and snatched Moon's senses in its flow. Wave after wave of indescribably delicious sensation coursed through his body while around them the world shattered. They would be buried in the debris. They would be killed, and they were so helpless, imprisoned by animal instinct that didn't care if everything around them was exploding. Moon screamed in ecstasy and terror. Clear thoughts came to him in the eye of the storm: aruna is selfish, it doesn't give a damn what happens to us. It has a mind of its own.
A deafening crash came from the direction of the Reliquary, and everything went black. In the darkness, pinned beneath Raven's heavy, panting body, Moon waited for the sky to fall in. Everything had ended. The dark had come.
Moon opened his eyes, fully expecting to find himself in some kind of spirit realm, but was surprised and relieved to find that he was still lying on the ground in the orchard, which was indeed covered in debris as if a terrible storm had hit it. Raven was nearby, pulling on his clothes.
“What was that?” Moon asked.
“I don't know,” Raven said. “Earthquake, maybe.”
“Did we do that?”
Raven smiled, something he did so rarely, but which made him look truly beautiful. “No, we didn't,” he said dryly, but not without humour. “Don't worry. It's not bad.”
“How do you know?”
Raven tied up his braids again, which had come loose aruna. “I should check on Snake.”
It was at this point that Moon realised his whole body was throbbing and aching in a not altogether unpleasant manner. He didn't want to move and yet he did. “I'll come with you,” he said and sat up. The world swayed, and for some moments he had to sit with his head between his knees.
“You should really stay here,” Raven said. “You should rest.”
“I want to see if he's OK.”
Raven didn't say anything else, but simply headed in the direction of the Reliquary. Moon quickly pulled on his clothes and scrambled after him. He didn't feel remotely in control of his limbs, but at least they seemed willing to propel him in the right direction.
The door to Snake's room was stuck, because something heavy on the other side was wedged against it. Both Raven and Moon leaned upon it, pushing with all their strength. Moon nearly passed out with the effort. By the time they'd managed to force the door open a few inches, his vision was totally occluded by darting spots of light.
Raven squeezed through the gap and ran into the room. Moon had to follow more slowly. He felt utterly nauseous now, not least because hot fluid had fallen out of him in an unexpected gush and had soaked his trousers. The room was a mess. An ornamental pillar had fallen, which was what had wedged the door shut. A lot of the ceiling ornaments had come down and covered the floor and furniture. Snake was lying face down in the middle of the room, his arms and legs spread out. He was wearing a long robe, but his feet were bare: the sight of his upturned soles was heartbreaking, because they looked so vulnerable. One of the feet was twisted and withered, and Moon so rarely saw that. Snake always kept himself covered. It brought new tears to Moon's eyes.
Raven was squatting down beside Snake and now turned over his body.
Moon stood over them, both hands pressed against his mouth, sure that his father was dead. But Snake groaned and his eyelids flickered. Raven stroked dust and flak
es of plaster from Snake's face. “Look at me,” he said.
Snake drew in a long breath and struggled to sit up, his arms flailing upon the air. Moon went to assist Raven to lift his father. “Are you all right, Snake?” Moon asked, at least three times.
Snake did not seem to be aware that Moon was there. He got to his feet and shrugged off his helpers. Slowly, he limped across the room and went to a cupboard where he kept some rough wine they'd bartered for some months before. This, he swigged from the flagon, then wiped his mouth with the back of his good hand. He came back to his companions and handed the flagon to Raven, who gave it directly to Moon, saying, “You need this more.”
Moon took a drink, knowing that both he and Raven were waiting for Snake's pronouncement, because it was clear he had one. His golden eye glowed with its own light in the gloom of the room, where swirls of dust eddied in a beam of sunshine that came in through a high skylight. “It is not unconnected,” he said at last.
Moon and Raven said nothing.
Snake nodded to himself and limped to his chair, where he sat down heavily. He looked down at his withered foot, staring at it in surprise and contempt as if he'd never seen it before. Intuitively, Moon fetched his father's boots and knelt to put them on for him. He was surprised when Snake reached out and placed a hand on the top of his head. “How are you, Moon?”
Moon looked up. “Fine.”
“You shouldn't have come here. You should rest.” He stroked his son's hair and Moon saw in Snake's eyes an expression he'd never seen before: intimate and caring. “It shouldn't have been like this,” Snake said. “You should have had a feast and many friends around you. Silken should have been here to wind your hair with flowers.” He glanced briefly at Raven. “We let you down. We made no preparations. We could have done, even just the three of us. I'm sorry, Moon.”
“It was fine,” Moon said. “Really, I liked it.” He felt like crying again, but this time with happiness. Perhaps aruna had confounded his senses, and perhaps it had changed everything, as he'd suspected it might. Snake had never spoken to him like this before. Raven was a silent presence behind him, but even though Moon couldn't see him, he felt connected to him. This was some kind of miracle. “Was there an earthquake?” he asked his father.
“Yes, it was that.” Snake flexed his shoulders. “Give me the wine, Moon. I need another drink.”
Raven brought the flagon over, but let Moon hand it to his father. Snake took a long drink, his throat working rhythmically as he swallowed. Then he said, “It is time to talk.”
Moon and Raven sat at Snake's feet, and even though they weren't touching, Moon felt as though Raven was holding him in his arms. It must be a dream: they had died in the earthquake after all. This could only be Paradise. How strange that he'd not known about this intimacy, had never missed it.
“They will come looking for me,” Snake said. “It is only a matter of time.”
“Who?” Moon asked.
“My family,” Snake replied. “Your family, Moon. The end of one story is only the beginning of another. Years ago, I made a decision and I intended to keep it. I know now that it is beyond my control.”
Moon waited, holding his breath. He hardly dared breathe in case the sound of it took this miracle of communication away.
“Your hostling,” Snake said, and then for some moments was silent. “There are some who will tell you he was a vicious killer, Moon.”
Moon uttered a choked laugh, because he had to make some kind of sound.
Snake's right hand lashed out and clamped over Moon's mouth. “We were the same, he and I. We were together from the beginning. We were Uigenna. The memories you have of love and nurture are not false, but they are not the whole picture. I made a choice to accept the Uigenna way of life, and I never regretted it, even though I knew my brothers had taken different paths. I am what I am.”
Moon struggled a little, but his father's hand gripped his jaw firmly. Moon could barely breathe.
“I have killed hara,” said Snake, “and I have killed humans, and if things were different I might still be doing that.” He took his hand away from Moon's mouth and leaned back in his chair.
Moon was panting. He felt stunned.
“Survival of the fittest, the best,” Snake said. “That was our way, until the Gelaming took away our power. We are hiding now, beaten and cowering. This is not life, it is mere existence. We are not jaguars, we are ghosts.” He thumped an arm of his chair with his best hand. “So, he cries out to me in his pain! So, I can never hide or forget. This is the way of it. He will want me for my gold eye.”
“Who?” Moon managed to ask.
“The one who was my brother,” said Snake. “The beloved. We were kin when I was human. He is already hunting us, and he is our enemy.”
Raven made an anguished noise. “I am at your side,” he said, his voice little more than a growl. “None shall harm you.”
Snake didn't take his eyes from Moon. “When your mind walked the shining path,” he said, “when your body sang the song of the universe, it was heard. It was inevitable, and was always destined to happen. A powerful seer has heard it and he smelled your ecstasy. He recognized the essence within the smell. I saw this as the ground shook. Soon, he will tell of what's he's seen, but not yet. The darkness has come to the city of angels and he who dreamed is awake. He is more awake than all the powers that seek to contain the truth could ever have imagined, and once he has rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he will begin to think. And that is even more dangerous.”
“I don't know of what you speak,” Moon said.
Snake leaned down and cupped Moon's chin in his good hand, this time with gentleness. “The moment you came into yourself, so great events took place elsewhere. You were not a catalyst. It was preordained.”
“I will kill him,” Raven said. “I will kill any of them.”
Snake glanced up at him and spoke archly. “Any?”
“Even him,' Raven said. “He has become one with those who ruined me.”
“It will not be enough,” Snake said. “They are too powerful.”
“What do you speak of?” Moon asked in a shrill, desperate voice. “Tell me!”
“The Gelaming,” Snake said. “Raven speaks of them. He has his own story, which is only his to tell. All you need to know is that my brother rules the Gelaming. He is Pellaz. You will remember this name.”
Chapter Two
“Is this it?” Caeru har Aralis, Tigron of Immanion, was taking lunch with his best friend, Velaxis Shiraz. Velaxis had the beautiful yet watchful face of a spiteful pedigree cat and platinum coloured hair that hung to his waist, currently tightly plaited and bound with black pearls. Caeru, a slight, willowy creature, had a constantly startled appearance. His hair was the colour of ripe corn and his skin smelled of summer. He and Velaxis were Gelaming, from the cream of Wraeththu tribes, and they had recently suffered a cataclysm.
Now, they sat upon the wide terrace outside Caeru's royal apartments that overlooked the hanging gardens of the palace Phaonica. The terrace had been repaired, the shattered furniture replaced, but there were still signs of damage in the gardens, despite the fact that landscapers had been hard at work on repairs for weeks. Caeru's favourite tree had come down: perhaps the thing he resented most of all. He could no longer look at it while he took his breakfast.
“What do you mean?” Velaxis asked, in his usual drawl, which held more than a hint of poison. “Is what it?”
Caeru gestured expressively with both arms. “You know. Is this it? The great change. The divine Cal comes into the city like an angel of death, dragging magical destruction in his wake. He confronts Thiede – presumably they had some kind of fight – and as far as we can see, Cal won. This was supposed to be the dawn of a New Age, and what do we have? A few buildings have fallen over and now I get an unwanted visitor to dinner most evenings, but what else is different?”
Velaxis turned his eyes to the sky. “Well, apart from the obvious, i.
e. no Thiede around and a hell of a lot of rubble in the streets, there are some other things to consider.” He began to make a list, marking each point on his fingers. “One. You sit in the Hegalion more than you used to, which means you have true political power for the first time. Two. I do believe Pellaz actually looked at you the other day. Three. You are now regarded as something other than a simple celebrity for the mindless masses to adore...”
“I always had power,” Caeru interrupted. “I worked hard for it.”
“You had land, true, and a place in Thiede's heart. But Thiede isn't here any more, and Cal is attempting to give you real power. He is your champion, much as you hate the fact.”
Caeru laughed. “I don't believe it! You're his advocate.”