Burying the Shadow (41 page)

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Authors: Storm Constantine

Tags: #vampires, #angels, #fantasy, #constantine

BOOK: Burying the Shadow
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‘Not exactly,’
Sammael said. ‘After a short while, I stopped my secret excursions
and went into retreat slumber here, perhaps imagining I would never
awake. Life was painful. I could no longer bear to think, to
remember. Then, as time eroded the stones and locks around the
tunnel’s entrance in the Strangeling, humans living there found my
hidden road and came creeping along it. They came into the tower
and woke me up. It didn’t happen that long ago, perhaps only a few
hundred years.’ He shook his head smiling. ‘I think they thought I
was an ancient corpse - I was covered in dust and rubbish, my bed
long-rotted - but I still wore my jewels and they sought to rob me.
One of them was tugging at my rings, which brought me back to
reality. It was quite amusing to see their hysterical reaction when
I sat up and roared, showering them with my mantle of dust.’

I found the
image quite chilling. ‘You are lucky they didn’t kill you.’

‘Oh, they
wouldn’t have done that. They sensed something in me that links me
to the Strangeling and its past, I suppose. I am their secret, but
then the humans in the Strangeling have many secrets.’

‘Do you sup
from them?’ I asked.

Sammael
smiled. ‘They would like me to. Sometimes I do, just a little. It
pleases them, although I have been off my food for a thousand
years; supping does not give me great pleasure.’

‘You are a
strange creature,’ I said.

He grinned.
‘What did you expect? Would you like to see some of my work?’

I accepted the
change of subject without argument. ‘I would be honoured.’

He brought me
a leather-bound book with beautiful creamy parchment pages, all
covered in delicate curling text, written by hand. ‘It is all about
love,’ he said.

I tried to
read it. ‘Is it?’

‘Yes. You know
why I dislike the sup?’

I paused from
my examination, looked at him and shook my head.

‘It is because
of... I drank, as your brother did, eloim ichor. Anything else is
like muddy water after that. I think we should sustain each other,
don’t you?’

‘When did you
do that? After you came to Earth?’ It was a loaded question. I knew
to whom he referred but, in eloim lore, there had been no contact
between Mikha’il and Sammael since that time.

‘Yes,
afterwards. In our old territory, mutual supping was a way of life.
It is different here; a different world. And yet, I had to
experience the taste of eloim fluid on Earth; I was always too
curious.’

‘I thought
your brother... I mean,
people
believe
your brother
never came through to Earth after the conflict.’

Sammael pulled
a rueful face. ‘Well, our meetings were not exactly advertised with
banners and trumpets! We met, a few times, before the thoroughfare
between the worlds was closed for eternity, but nobody knows that.
As we were building Ykhey, he came to me there, and we loved one
another in flesh.’

‘But you had
fought! He was responsible for our eviction! I don’t understand
why...’

‘Oh, these
things happen, you know,’ Sammael interrupted. ‘People fall out,
and fall in; then they can’t make up their minds and just claw at
each other. It was like that, but not like that. We had divided
loyalties.’

I realised
that more than anything, he wanted to talk about himself. But even
now, with me an eager audience, I could tell he was reluctant to
speak plainly. I was a little nervous of what I might hear. Even
so, only someone open-minded like me could take his confession.
Metatron’s ears would bleed, I was sure, if Sammael unburdened
himself to him. Metatron would say things like, ‘You mustn’t think
that way, ever!’ and that would be an end to it. Mikha’il, and his
kind, could only be statues, icons, in this world. We could not
admit they were actually
real
. Sammael seemed to pick up my
thoughts. He smiled wistfully and shook his head.

‘Do not judge
your
brother,’ he said. ‘His way might be the right way. It
is certainly
one
way. Why not let him proceed and see what
happens?’

‘You mean I
should tell him to stop taking sustenance from humans and feed
solely off Avirzah’e?’ His advice, as I should have known it would
be, was useless. ‘And I suppose also, that you think they should be
allowed to conjoin.’

‘If that is
what they want. You cannot criticise them Gimel Metatronim, because
you have not tried it.’

‘I very nearly
did - and against my will!’

‘The eloim are
foolish if they think they can be happy living as humans, with only
humanity’s shallow grubbing in the flesh to fulfil them!’

‘Alright,’ I
said, to appease him, ‘but if we chose the eloim way, how could we
coax humanity to accept us?’

‘That’s your
problem. That’s your soulscaper’s problem. Don’t you see? That is
the way she can really help you. Eloim are invisible in the human
soulscape. She might be able to manipulate the soulscape, much as
you have manipulated humans in Sacramante, but in this case to
forge a positive image of eloim, not an invisible one.’

‘You are
saying we could live among humanity as ourselves?’

He shrugged.
‘Just a suggestion. It needs discussion, of course. Anyway, I doubt
whether you
will
choose that way.’

‘You are not
being very helpful, Sammael.’

‘Don’t be so
ungrateful. I could have let Lilian sweep you downstairs!’

‘I’m sorry.
Just tell me one thing; where do I go from here?’

‘The
Strangeling, I think. You could use the underground route, if you
like, but parts of it are difficult to negotiate now, so other
tunnels have been dug, not much wider than a fox run. They might be
difficult for a lady such as yourself to negotiate in places.’

I shrugged. If
that was a criticism, I could hardly deny it. ‘Why should I go to
the Strangeling?’

‘There is a
dead city there called Ykhey that is the seat of the eloim kings:
the last ruin on this world of our once magnificent communities. If
your soulscaper is to investigate our malady, there would be no
better location than Ykhey for her to attempt it. The emanations of
our past are so strong there; Rayojini will be able to pick up
memories and feelings that should help her in her work. Ykhey is
drenched in ancient blood. Once war was done, and we had come to
Earth, we began to build in that place. Mikha’il came to me there
to say ‘I told you so’, and gloat. He never believed I wanted
anything but power. Our father had control of his mind, while I had
only his heart. I needed both.’ He sighed. ‘Mikha’il came to me in
Ykhey. It was the last time...’ His voice faltered and his face
became introspective.

‘Do you really
have a wound that doesn’t heal?’ I asked him.

He glanced up
at me. ‘Hmm? Oh,
that
. I was wounded once, above the heart.
Mikha’il struck me as I fled with my people from Elenoen. It healed
quite naturally, but later, when Mikha’il and I fed upon each
other, I made him open up the scar with his teeth. Perhaps I was
trying to make a point... Anyway, if you feed from the same place
regularly with earthly flesh around your soul, it gets a bit messy,
that’s all. It’s healed again now, on the surface.’

‘Mikha’il too
is wounded above the heart,’ I said. ‘There is a statue in the
Castile...’

‘We are
brothers,’ Sammael said quietly, ‘and more than that. Where I
bleed, he bleeds. As he wounded me, he wounded himself. I have
never seen that statue though.’ He smiled to himself, and his hand
hovered to touch his chest. Then, he rubbed at his face
vigorously.

‘Impulsively,
I reached out and touched his wrist. ‘Come with me,’ I said. ‘If
you cannot help us yourself, at least guide our soulscaper!’

He looked down
at me, so full of sad hope, it was pathetic. ‘Well, I don’t
think... No, it wouldn’t be a good idea. I might just blow away,
out there.’

‘You can’t
stay here forever!’ I said.

He laughed
shakily. ‘I thought I already had!’

‘Sammael,
don’t
you
want to know what is really causing this sickness?
You are so powerful...’

‘Was...’ he
corrected, but I shook my head.

‘Are! All we
have is a human woman to help us. Do you really think she can
succeed?’

‘Yes. Well, I
think she has more chance than I of success. Do not underestimate
the Taps, Gimel. Even before we were driven into hiding, they were
a force to respect. I am not a soulscaper. In our old world, she
would have been no match for me, but not here on Earth. My power -
our power - has atrophied. Whatever abilities I still have, there
are none that are equal to the skills of a Tap.’

‘I don’t
believe that!’ I cried. ‘And if you do lack certain knowledge, then
Rayojini could teach you!’

‘In that case,
she could teach you,’ he said quickly.

I shook my
head. ‘No eloim has your experience, Sammael, nor your
strength.’

‘What
strength? Look at me!’ There was a note of despair in his voice,
but in his face, I thought I could see a yearning to leave the
tower. In his pain, so long ago, he had wanted to hide away from
others and indulge his grief and his sense of failure. Now, the
grief and shame were dulled. My visit had plainly stimulated him,
awoken his curiosity. I knew I would have to persuade him quickly,
while the thought of escape was in him, before he remembered too
much of the past and changed his mind. ‘Sammael, we need you!’ I
said desperately. ‘You brought us to this world. You
are
eloim. Cast off your fear of the outside! I do believe that’s the
only thing keeping you in here now - fear.’

He considered
my words, took a few breaths as if he was about to speak, before
frowning and shaking his head. Finally, he said, ‘Suppose I was
ready to leave this place. Imagine my situation. It would be very
embarrassing. How would I be received among my people now?’

‘No-one need
know.’

‘You said
Sandalphon sits on folded paws at the Tower’s door.’

‘I could send
him away. Oh, Sammael... please!’

He sighed.
‘Damn, damn, damn, you’re like all the others, aren’t you? I tried
to age a little, I tried to become something else, but I’m still
me, ultimately. It’s a curse, sometimes.’

‘You can’t
escape what you are.’

He held out a
hand to me; a glowing, fiery hand. He really was the Lord of Light,
the most beautiful. I took it in my own, let his energy pulse into
me. He would come down out of the Tower now; I knew he would.

Section Three

Rayojini

‘…
but pain is
perfect misery, the worst of evils, and excessive, overturns all
patience.’

Paradise Lost,
Book VI

On the walk down from
the Eastern Mountains, the plains of Khalt had seemed an open,
innocent place; a seed-ground of primal thoughts, having the
ambience of the Supernal Child. Whether travelling in the company
of Keea changed my perception, I am unsure, but from the moment I
left Helat’s Sink, the Kahra Flats became a secretive, threatening
place. Its whispering grasses concealed unimaginable terrors; their
constant hissing sounded like malevolent voices, muttering in a
language I could not translate. Something dark had hooked itself
into my heart.

Many times,
the dreadful suspicion that the Fear itself was slinking at my
heels reoccurred, and I had to fight to push it out of my mind.
Sometimes, when the mists came down, I thought I could hear it
panting close behind me, I could feel its hot, steamy breath
through my clothes. Each time, the banishing was harder. If Keea
suspected the way I was feeling, he gave no sign. We conversed
quite easily as we walked, although neither of us broached the
subject that had thrown us together. Perhaps he had his own Fear to
dread. Talking aloud kept my horrors at bay; night-times, for this
reason, were the times I hated most.

Keea and I did
not share sleeping space, although sometimes I would have welcomed
the presence of another living soul nearby. My dreams were chaotic,
full of potent symbols; time and again I relived the original dream
I’d had in Sacramante, years before. I held Beth Metatronim in my
arms. In these dreams, I was no passive victim, lacking knowledge.
In these dreams, I embraced him with hunger. Sometimes, he had the
face of Q’orveh, but the struggle always took place in Liviana
Tricante’s house. I awoke with longing after these dreams; a
thirsting for beauty, and intimacy beyond flesh, that could not be
easily quenched in this world. I knew I could mix my fumes and
enter the soulscape to obtain satisfaction, but I was afraid of
doing so; I was afraid of what I might find there. Obsessions
crowded my mind, pulsing in my blood to the rhythm of my footsteps.
I was falling. I was falling.

In honest
moments, I admitted I was helpless and terribly afraid, and walked
swiftly on the road. I kept hoping that, in the next settlement we
came across, there might be a soulscaper, to whom I could turn for
comfort. I needed to be among my own kind, not just to arrange my
thoughts into perspective, but to experience the reality of their
healing touch. Even in the darkest moments, I still said nothing to
Keea. As a travelling companion, he was surprisingly easy to get
along with, and more than easy on the eye. He was certainly a lot
older than he looked; how much so, it was impossible to tell. He
seemed a completely different person to the one I had met among the
Halmanes and I had begun to like him, to appreciate his quick mind.
He was a sensitive creature and, from day to day, did many small
things to increase the comfort of travelling for me.

‘Let me rub
your feet for you,’ he might say if, when we rested for the night,
I pulled a face and groaned as I sat down.

‘Look, Rayo,
your favourite,’ he would say, having found some fruit or nut of
which he’d learned I was particularly fond.

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