mouth twisted with thought. "It just seemed ... I don't know . . . right. As if I had no choice. I had to do it. Surely you know what I mean." I did. The Wraeththu of Saltrock seemed remarkably adept at procuring luxuries. Flick implied to me that a lot of what they had was stolen, groups of Saltrock inhabitants going out into the world beyond the desert on looting forays, or else commodities were brought into the community by newcomers. I also felt impelled to explain, with much stammering, just what the extent of my relationship with Cal was. Contrary to what I expected, Flick was not at all surprised. "Of course, you are Unhar," was all he said. Some demon made me ask; "Flick. Cal . . . Seel . . . you know . . . Are they . . .?"
Flick gave me a guarded look that melted to a smile. "Now why should you want to know that, Pellaz?" I shrugged helplessly, wishing to God that I had not opened my mouth. Flick patted my face. "Classified information at the moment," he said with a grin.
Once Flick had gone, and I had settled, almost purring, into the canopied bed, I thought about Cal. I was wracked with guilt. I had not noticed his exhaustion, his torment. Perhaps Seel was soothing him now. I could not bear to think about it. Seel and Cal. But it was not my place to wonder. I was Unhar. I was nothing. I awoke from habit just after dawn. Outside, Saltrock was stirring. I suppose I must have thought, "What am I doing here?" Thoughts like that did cross my mind a lot at that time, but I became adept at ejecting them. Pale, lemon light filtered in through the gauzy curtains. I lay there, revelling in the comfort and warmth. Only when something moved and touched me did I turn over. Cal was asleep beside me, two cats slumbering contentedly on his chest. It made me jump. I am not a heavy sleeper, yet I had not heard him come to bed. He was frowning, arms thrown up over his head. He always slept like that. I could see the long, white scar on his arm. It was the first time I had looked at him for so long. Usually, he caught me doing it and I turned away. I desperately wanted to talk to him and spoke his name. Wrinkling his nose, he only mumbled and twitched. Never had he looked so perfect.
"Cal," I said again. He groaned, half-conscious. "I was talking to Flick last night. Listen!" He sighed. "I am."
"I've been a brat. I'm sorry. Flick told me what I am: Unhar, uncaste. I've been so selfish... oh hell!" I could not find the words for what I wanted to say. It all sounded so trite.
Cal was looking at me now, thoughtfully, "Pellaz, shut up. Come here." I put my head upon his chest and clung to him. The cats half rose, looking at me with disgust. "Look, I don't keep you in the dark about things out of spite. In two days time, you will take the Harhune. Then you will be Har. Then you can begin to learn, but not till then." His arm tightened around me, the muscles trembling.
"You're sick," I looked up at him but he would not meet my eyes. "Like hell. I'm tired, that's all. Don't start, Pell, I can't stand it. And lie still, or you'll be out of that window in a moment. Just go back to sleep, OK?"
We slept till noon.
We breakfasted, or more truthfully, lunched with Seel and Flick in the kitchen. It was a low-ceilinged, dark room dominated by a huge, black cooking-range. We ate fried chicken and salad. I was curious as to how Saltrock obtained vegetables and Seel explained they had one or two acres of irrigated land behind the town where it was possible to grow things. Flick said it was more like a jungle of exotic flowers; they thrived horribly on the mineral cocktail in the soil. It was true that the food did have a faint acrid tang to it. Flick asked me if I would like to ride out along the shores of the soda lake with him and I accepted with enthusiasm. I had decided to goad him for information.
Saltrock, by day, was revealed to be a lot shabbier than I had first imagined. However, everyone I saw seemed to be engaged in some kind of purposeful activity; there were few loiterers. Flick took me on a tour of the town, before we headed out along the shores of the lake. There were no proper shops to be seen, but some of the wooden and corrugated iron dwellings had items for sale spread out beside their doors; mainly mismatched clothing, rather tired-looking canned food with faded labels or crude utensils for the home. I was curious about what was used as currency and Flick explained that nearly all trade was conducted on a barter system, for the simple reason that the majority of Saltrock's inhabitants rarely ventured out into the world to places where money was still used. I realized, with a pang, how isolated my family had been (and still was, no doubt), living obliviously at the edge of the desert, happily unaware of the huge changes stirring across the face of the world. Sefton Richards, of course, must have felt it; locked away in his great, white house; he must have had accurate news of what was going on. Eventually, the crops we'd grown must become unsaleable. What would happen then? I thought briefly, painfully, of Mima and the others and pushed it out of my mind. I was now in Saltrock, a different reality, my life had changed or begun to; the past was gone forever. Flick called out to people that he knew who would raise their heads from whatever work they were engrossed in and wave. Very few of the buildings were anywhere near as grand as Seel's residence, most being sprawling, single-storied and obviously occupied by large groups of Wraeththu. We passed one large, church-like construction in the middle of the town, but Flick seemed reluctant to discuss its function. It was surprising how many people appeared to be hurrying around, laden with building materials or driving animals here and there. What drew them to this place? I wasn't yet sure whether I liked Saltrock or not.
It was very hot outside and the fumes stung my eyes. Red made anguished noises through his nose. How exhilarating, though, to gallop through the brittle sands. Strange, lumbering lizards heaved themselves from our path and honking flocks of wading birds lifted from the surface of the lake in alarm. Everything sparkled and crystals of salt formed in ray hair. Flick told me I had better make the most of it.
"Of what?" I enquired, shaking the salty locks off my shoulders, making the air glitter.
"Your hair, you peacock! You won't have all that for much longer!"
I yanked Red to a reluctant halt, fighting with his head. "What?1' My hand fluttered up automatically to touch it, my crowning glory. "Why not?"
Flick looked furious with himself. "Oh, don't worry, I spoke out of turn." I must have looked demented; I dreaded being disfigured in even the slightest way. "Oh well, I don't suppose it will do any harm; what I meant was, they'll cut your hair. It's part of the ritual, the Harhune. Like mine, not all of it."
"Why?" I squeaked, aghast.
"As I said, it's just part of the ritual, that's all. You can grow it back afterwards."
"Oh. I see." My hair ... I could remember in the evening, back home, my sister Mima brushing it out for me. "A hundred strokes to make it shine," she had said. Once she had caught me looking in her mirror, admiring and swishing the tumbling blackness, and I can still recall her laughter. "God, you should have been born a girl, Pell." There was a bleak echo to those words now.
I pressed Red with my heels. He put his ears back as he skipped sideways into a trot. There was a strained air around us now. I was so prickly, and unconsciously, so vain.
Finally, I relented and spoke. "How long have you been . . . har, Flick?" My voice sounded imperious and prim even to me
Flick suppressed a mocking smile. "About a year, I think. I progressed from Ara to Neoma pretty quickly. I had a good teacher." I did not ask him who that was as I was obviously supposed to.
"What is Harhune?" I said instead, to be awkward. I guessed he was forbidden to answer.
He pulled a face. "Pellaz, I wish you wouldn't ask me things. It's so horrible when I can't tell you. Seel would have my skin if I did."
Rage ignited in my throat. "Oh, for God's sake!" I cried. "Why is everything so damn secret. Don't tell Pell this, don't tell him that! He mustn't know anything. It's pathetic!" I was sick of the constant air of mystery; I thought it such a pose.
"Look," Flick strained to be patient, "tomorrow you will begin Forale. It's a day of fasting before the Harhune. Seel or someone will instruct you then."
"Why didn'
t anyone tell me?!" I raged. "If you hadn't, would I have woken up tomorrow and stuffed myself rigid before anyone mentioned I was supposed to be fasting? Hell, hell, bloody hell!!"
"No, no, tonight—they'll tell you tonight!" Flick was unsure of how to handle me, my tempers could be very colorful. I was pleased inside though. The end of my frustrating, innocent unHarness was in sight. I had an idea what the Harhune actually was and I told Flick about it. He denied it vehemently.
"Oh, come on," I goaded mercilessly, "it's sex, isn't it. That's what it is."
"God, Pell, what cloud are you on?! Sex is important, yes, but it certainly isn't the be-all and end-all of our existence and it definitely isn't what the Harhune is all about. Stop provoking me; I'm not going to tell you."
He kicked his pony into a scrabbling canter and darted away from me. Red bucked as I made him catch up. Flick's pony was no match for him. Ahead of us the black cliffs reared to the sky and water thundered down their glistening flanks. Steam roiled about us like smoke.
"Flick! I want to ask you another question!" I shouted.
Flick screwed up his face again. "Oh no!"
"It's not a forbidden one." I sidled Red up against Flick's pony so I Would not have to scream at him. "Did you ever meet Zack?"
Flick gave me another of his strange, guarded looks. "Yes. Why?"
"I'm just curious, that's all. What was he like?" I tried to keep an insouciant note in my voice.
" What was he like? Wild ... wild and reckless. Witty, courageous, fierce, gorgeous ... do you want me to go on?"
"Yes. What did he look like?" My heart was thudding; I felt breathless. Flick had warmed to the subject.
"He looked like . . . like, I don't know. He was a bit like Cal, only as dark as Cal is fair. High cheekbones, sulky eyes. In a way you remind me Of him; the same temperament I think. That's probably why Cal is kelos Over you. He and Zack were chesna."
"Flick," I said, shaking my head at him. "What the hell are you talking about. You must know I don't understand half of it."
He grinned. "Yes, I know. Kelos is crazy, chesna is ... well, more than friends." A fatuous smile spread across my face. I could not get rid of it.
"Cal is not . . . not kelos, crazy about me, Flick. Surely I'd know if he was."
"Sure. Like you know everything else about Wraeththu."
I could say nothing more. With an ear-splitting screech, 1 panicked Red into a mad gallop; the stinging, flying air lathering my exhilaration. Tomorrow, tomorrow it would begin. My un-harness would soon be nothing but a frustrating memory. The consequences? Oh, I banished them, what I knew, banished them from my mind. It was too much of an exquisite torment to think of them.
Supper was a subdued affair. I avoided looking at Cal, and Flick avidly watched what I was doing. Seel smoked cigarette after cigarette, I had never met such an addict, and Cal looked so glum he did not even notice I was avoiding him. Not exactly a party atmosphere. Surely, we should have been celebrating my approaching Harhune. When we had finished eating, Cal and Flick discreetly left the room. We were in Seel's exotic little salon.
"Pellaz, we have to talk," he said gravely.
I was feeling edgy and hysterical and wished he would smile. I half knew what he wanted to say, but I still felt stricken, petrified inside. He took my hand. His was cool, long-fingered and dry; mine was shaky and sweaty. He turned it over and half-heartedly examined the palm as he spoke.
"You want to be Wraeththu, don't you?" It was not a question and I said nothing, but swallowed noisily. "Tomorrow you can begin your initiation into our way of life. I have to warn you, it will not be easy, and for that reason, you must be absolutely sure you want to go through with it." His dark eyes seemed enormous; I was hypnotized. They stared right into me, peeling away the constructions of ego. I nodded.
"I'm sure. I've come this far . . ."
"That was nothing!" Seel snorted and let go of my hand, which hit the table like a dead fish. He leaned back into the cushions. I felt foolish. It was all so unreal I longed to laugh whilst still stretched transparent by nerves. "You know very little and, frankly, that is the best way to be. I expect you find it very irritating."
"Yes. A bit," I confessed in a quiet voice.
"Hmmm. Well, at midnight, tonight, I will take you to the Forale-house. The Forale is what we call the day before Harhune. You will be cleansed and given instructions. You must eat nothing. Do you understand?"
"Yes." He was so cold, so unlike the Seel I had come to expect over the last day.
"Now, all you need to know is that the Harhune itself is painless. You don't have to be afraid." That was one thing I had not anticipated: pain. It unnerved me that Seel should mention it. "Just think of it like this. In a few days' time it will all be over and you'll know everything you want to. Now, you have an hour or so yet. Do you want to see Cal before I take you away?" His voice was less harsh.
I glanced up at him; a face inscrutable with restrained amusement. "Yes . , . please."
He laughed then and patted my shoulder, reaching for another cigarette. "Treat him gently, he's as nervous as you are."
Yes, I thought, probably because he knows what is going to happen to me.
Cal slunk in like a guilty dog and Seel left us alone. When our eyes met it was like being scalded and we both looked away quickly.
"I brought you into this," Cal said with a grimace and a weak attempt at humor.
As usual, all the wrong things started pouring from my mouth. "I don't know what's happening, but the way everyone's carrying on, it must be worse than I think. Unhealthy for me, anyway!"
Cal sat down beside me. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he profaned. I had never heard him swear before; he was so fastidious. "Oh, God, I don't care what the law says. I'm not supposed to tell you anything but, yes, in a way, it is unhealthy. You must have heard the stories; some of them even died... It's not all exaggeration, you know."
"Oh Cal!" I gasped. "Thanks! Thanks!" I put my head in my hands, arrowed by shock. Possible death was a consequence of becoming Wraeththu I had not considered.
"You had to know. There is a risk, but I think knowing that will make you stronger. You are strong, Pell." I looked at him through my fingers. He was sallow with worry. "It's necessary," he said. "We cannot afford to carry dead wood."
"I know." I straightened my back and closed my eyes. I could feel my hair, soon to be gone, heavy on my shoulders; the first time I had even noticed its weight. "I want to be Wraeththu," I murmured.
"I want you to be as well," said Cal and inevitably we fumbled toward each other, Nearly every time we had touched, I had clung to him like a mewling brat. Tonight was no exception. He wound his fingers in my hair and stroked my neck. I could feel him sighing. His smell was clean and musky, like new-mown hay.
"You've only known me a week, or so," I said.
"A week, a lifetime; what difference?" He held me so tightly, I nearly choked.
Seel walked in and found us like that, just holding onto each other as if for the last time. He passed no comment, but he obviously did not trust Cal not to blab everything to me. We had been alone for about ten minutes.
Just before midnight, Seel stood up and signaled to me. "Now, Pell," he said.
"Just bring him back in one piece," Cal told him, not smiling,
"Oh come on, Calanthe, my dear, you'll be there, watching, I know you will." Seel started herding me toward the door. As we left, he called back over his shoulder. "Just start thinking about aruna, Cal!" And he laughed. "What's that?" I asked him, not really expecting an answer. "The finest time of your life, little Pellaz. If only I could be you." A sentiment I was not averse to sharing, adding drily, "If I get through the Harhune, of course."
Seel made a small noise of annoyance. "You're not safe for a minute, are you. I might have known he'd tell you something. Cal's so emotional, I sometimes think he's still half human."
There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becom
es a terrifying reality. When you are young, it is so easy to blunder into situations when misplaced heroism is no substitute for good sense. As I followed Seel to the Forale-house, I started doubting. I had no idea what they would do to me. I had given myself into the hands of strangers with no assurance that they were concerned about my well-being. Cal had glamorized me. His wistful and haunting beauty, his mysterious and perhaps violent past, appealed to me, an inexperienced and immature boy, as make-believe superheroes had appealed to young boys throughout the ages. As much as I realized my impulsive folly, I also knew that it was too late to back out. I would never have been able to find my way home, even if the Wraeththu had allowed it. Perhaps, too, I now knew too much, little as it was, for them to let me go. As Seel opened the door to my fate, the brief intimacy with Cal and the way I had felt about him, had faded. All I knew was that stultifying, indescribable sensation that is the one true fear.
The Wraeththu Chronicles Page 4