Burying the Shadow (63 page)

As I write
these words, our Lord of Light lies grieving among his
brethren.
He is wounded above the heart, where the sword of
Mikha’il struck home.
The strength of his grief permeates
the walls of this humble dwelling, where I sit in the light of a
single taper, recording this sorry history.
And yet, despite
how our kin in Elenoen have abandoned us, and ignored our plight,
we bear no malice.
In this world, we shall grieve, but
without hatred, and hope for a day, when Sammael, our Lord of
Light, will be conjoined once more with his lost, beloved
brother...”

Keea stopped
reading. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep, shuddering breath,
as if the account had physically hurt him. For a moment, I had the
absurd impression he had forgotten I was there.

‘Yes, yes, go
on!’ I cried.

He shook his
head. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’

‘Well, if we
are pausing, then perhaps you can answer some questions for me.
These eloim - the ones that were thrown out of - what was it,
Elenoen? - are they the people who were depicted on the walls of
Helat’s temple, the Host?’

‘Yes!’ Keea
looked at me in a disturbingly manic way. ‘You would have heard
that in a moment, if you’d waited for me to continue!’

‘Sorry! But
the Host were shown as being spawned by a single parent. Is that
parent Eloat?’

Keea shook his
head impatiently. ‘No, don’t be stupid. Sammael’s followers - many
of them - were destroyed by Mikha’il during the conflict. Sammael
had to replenish his people. Sammael spawned the Host. He is Helat!
He taught his spawn how to mimic humanity enough to exist on this
world, to manifest as flesh. He taught them how to acquire gender,
how to breed, how to mix with men and women!’

‘Keea,’ I
said, sure I was going to regret these words, ‘you didn’t read that
bit. You aren’t reading now, Keea.’

He blinked at
me. ‘Stop asking questions and let me continue, then.’

‘No, you don’t
get my point. You don’t have to read it, do you! You already know
all this! I don’t want legends, Keea. I don’t want archaic stories.
Tell me the facts, the truth in your own words!’

He sighed, and
closed the book, running his fingers over the ancient, embossed
leather. ‘What you saw in the temple is all true. The eloim are the
Host of Helat. They gave humanity many gifts, but.... because of
what they were there was a price to pay. They feed on human blood,
Rayo, like humans breathe air. They need it.’

‘Why human
blood?’

‘There is no
good reason for that! They must simply want to. They are ghouls,
demons! The rebellion must have warped their instincts!’

I accepted
this explanation, but my instincts sensed there must be more to it
than he had suggested. ‘And yet, despite their predatory
tendencies, they are depicted as being great teachers,’ I said. ‘It
doesn’t make sense.’

‘Well, it is
true that they gave humanity knowledge,’ Keea replied airily, ‘but
the price was death. After a while, people grew restless. They had
the knowledge; they no longer wanted to pay the price. All the
eloim were driven to the land you call the Strangeling. It was
there that they were finally vanquished by humankind.’

‘Vanquished?’

Keea sighed
again. ‘Most were killed, but some... some escaped. Many of the
ruling families of Bochanegra believed that, should the eloim be
completely annihilated, the Earth would lose the important things
humanity had learned, such as the spirit of creativity,
spirituality itself. They believed that, Rayo, and they helped the
eloim survivors to escape those who sought to exterminate them. The
eloim were hidden on Earth for many centuries, the knowledge of
their existence handed down only through the human families who
supported them.’

‘And now they
are re-emerging?’

‘No, they
re-emerged centuries ago. Here. All at the same time. Now, they
practice their conceits of creation and feed off the populace.’

‘What? You
mean the artisans?’ I laughed. ‘Oh Keea, that’s impossible! I think
the artisans might be descended from these... these eloim, but they
couldn’t have just arrived in a bunch like that. People would have
noticed! People would have asked questions!’

‘Ask yourself
this question then, soulscaper. The Taps and the Deltans have
recorded the history of the world. Have you ever read of the eloim
in their records?’

‘No,’ I said.
‘That’s true... Perhaps this war you speak of occurred before the
records were kept.’

Keea shook his
head. ‘It didn’t.’

‘That’s
impossible!’

‘As impossible
as the fact that eloim slunk into Sacramante and set up house as
artisans, hmm?’

‘No, that’s
even more impossible.’

‘But it
happened.’

‘How?’

‘They
sabotaged the soulscape, Rayo, but it cost lives. They do not have
the abilities of your people. Somehow, they used the life energy of
eloim martyrs to uproot the knowledge of their existence from it,
and once that initial excision was made, it was possible for eloim
leaders to occlude the soulscape to this day with their insidious
influence. Even you have never seen through it. The eloim are
present in the human soulscape - they have to be, because they are
part of human history - but you cannot detect them. In a similar
way, apart from the patron families, the Sacramantans have never
noticed the eloim in this city. Until recently.’

‘Don’t talk
rubbish!’ I said. ‘The artisans are celebrities. They are known
everywhere!’

‘Yet the fact
that they are virtually immortal is never commented upon, the fact
that they are never seen to ingest solid food. Very strange, isn’t
it? They go to great lengths to disguise themselves. The patrons
keep them alive.’

‘The patron
families? You mean the people who helped them hide?’

He nodded.

I sat back in
my chair, and took a deep breath. ‘Like the Tricantes,’ I said
softly.

‘They are a
patron family, yes. And their patronage goes beyond merely helping
the eloim to hide, Rayo. They provide the eloim with sustenance.
They
feed
them.’

‘Willingly?
No!’

‘Yes. The
process provides an obscene gratification to human beings, a kind
of erotic stimulation. It is quite revolting, quite parasitic, and
it perpetuates the abomination on this Earth.’

‘I can’t
believe it!’

‘You
must!’

I put my hands
over my face, thinking of Liviana, thinking of Avirzah’e
Tartaruchi, thinking of Gimel Metatronim. Gimel Metatronim? ‘But
where do I come into this?’ I asked him. ‘Why was I brought here?
What do they want with me?’

Keea lowered
his head and sighed. ‘The eloim are in difficulty, Rayo. They are
suffering from mind sicknesses. They are dying. I told you they
don’t have the powers of Taps, so they need a soulscaper to heal
them. They need you.’

‘A soulscaper?
Me?’ I laughed nervously. ‘This is outrageous!’

Keea did not
share my amusement. ‘When you were eight years old, Beth and Gimel
Metatronim were prowling the world, looking for a Tappish child to
overpower. They chose you, and violated your soulscape while you
were in a vulnerable state. They fooled you into thinking they were
your guardian-pursuers, and have influenced you ever since.’

‘I feel
sick.’

Keea touched
my arm. ‘Forgive me, Rayo, but I too am guilty of deceiving you. I
have brought you to Sacramante for a very special purpose.’

‘You are
working for the Metatronims!’ I said. ‘Yes, I know. I see it all
now.’

Keea shook his
head. ‘No, you do not. The eloim have discovered, too late, that if
a soulscaper of your prowess enters their soulscape, it will
effectively end their power on this world.’

‘How? How
could I do that?’

He screwed up
his eyes and shook his head. ‘You would
reveal
them, don’t
you see? They made a mistake, Rayo, which they now desperately want
to correct. Gimel is trying to destroy you, while I dearly want you
to fulfil the initial purpose of your summoning. I am not working
for the Metatronims, although they think I am.’

‘Then who
are
you working for? Whose side are you on, Keea?’

He made a
dismissive gesture. ‘I am on the side of my native people. Look at
me. What do you see?’

‘A young man -
I think.’

‘Your eyes can
be trusted. Rayo, you must enter the soulscape of eloim as Gimel
originally planned. These creatures should not be on this world,
exploiting its people; they must be removed. The first step is to
uncloak them in the human soulscape, so that they are revealed to
everyone, and cannot hide. Then, you must create a portal in the
eloim soulscape.’

My laughter in
response to these remarks held an edge of hysteria. ‘Oh, is that
all? Keea, until this moment I was unaware there might be
another
soulscape besides a human one. How can I possibly
become aware of it, never mind create a portal in it? It’s
preposterous!’

Keea shook his head.
‘I can help you.’

‘You?
How?’

‘I have lived
with these people, been very close to them. I am sure that should
we scape-share, I could lead you in the right direction.’

‘It is not as
simple as that, Keea, believe me.’

‘We have to
try, at least! The portal must be created, so that those who are
able to vanquish the eloim will be able to do so.’

‘And who is
able to vanquish them? Another secret society?’

Keea tapped
the book beneath his hands. ‘This is a biased account, Rayo. The
story has basic flaws. Its author was obviously glamorised by the
rebel Lord of Light, and has represented him in a far more
flattering manner than he deserves. In reality, Sammael was furious
when Eloat told him he could not rule Elenoen. Eloat is
misrepresented in this narrative, the viewpoint is all wrong.
Mikha’il was never deceived by his father, and only did what had to
be done.’

‘When we first
came in here, you insisted that book was a true history,’ I said.
‘Now, you’re telling me it’s propaganda? You are still throwing me
false information!’

‘No, I’m not!
This
is
a true history - in most respects. There was a war
in Elenoen, and some eloim did end up here. Sammael was an infernal
egotist, Rayo. He craved power, and for that reason alone was
expelled from Elenoen. It was a mistake that he ended up here, a
mistake that his own people have been trying to correct for a very
long time. Now, they might be able to do so. Humanity will be freed
from its curse, Rayojini, and you can help accomplish it.’

‘This is
incredible!’ I cried, but already a little part of me was seduced
by the thought of being responsible for such a victory. ‘I can’t
believe it.’

Keea shrugged. ‘Once
you enter the eloim soulscape, you will see for yourself.’

‘And they are
trying to prevent that...’ I rubbed my face. ‘Oh, spirits of every
realm, one of the artisans visited me last night. He tried to
persuade me to leave Sacramante.’

Keea’s face
bloomed into a smile. ‘You see?’

‘Maybe I’m
beginning to....’ I had to think. ‘The Holy Death... The victim is
someone who has been drained of blood by an eloim, yes?’

Keea
nodded.

‘No wonder the
Taps aren’t allowed to examine the Holy Dead! But I thought all the
artisans lived in Sacramante.’

‘No, they are
dispersed throughout the world. The wanderers, the loners, are the
eloim who cause the Holy Death. They are quite deranged.’

‘And the
non-deaths? Explain.’

‘A different
phenomenon entirely. They have been caused by the eloim becoming
greedy. They now want to extend their influence beyond
Sacramante.’

‘I see....
What about Salyon?’

‘Who?’

I explained to
him about my visit to Sacramante with my mother when I was a girl.
‘He is a scion of one of the patron families. Why should he
suffer?’

He paused, and
averted his eyes from mine a little. ‘Well, of course he would have
been an offering.’

‘An offering?
You mean a voluntary Holy Death? Then why did the Tricantes want
him healed?’

‘How can I
answer that? Perhaps they changed their minds.’

‘Salyon said
something to me... Wait, this makes sense. He spoke of an addiction
whose drug made him sick. So maybe he wasn’t a Holy Death
sacrifice. Maybe he’s simply allergic to being fed from. All the
Tricantes look astonishingly healthy. Perhaps that means the
artisans don’t kill the patrons at all, but just feed from them
regularly.’

Keea shook his
head emphatically. ‘No, it is indisputable that many of the patrons
are sacrificed. Children, I expect. I have no explanation for the
Tricante boy, although I suspect his sickness wasn’t caused by an
allergy, but by the insatiable appetite of the eloim who fed from
him. Their legends speak of how they can drink souls as well as
blood. In their feeding-frenzy, perhaps they damaged his soul.’

‘No wonder
Liviana was disturbed by what I said to her!’ I paused to review
all the information I’d amassed in the light of these new, barely
believable, facts. ‘We also found mutant births in Khalt. There
were rumours of what they called ‘blood places’, ghosts... How does
all that relate to what you’ve told me?’

‘It is really
very simple. The nomad Khalts are descended from degenerate eloim
who interbred with humanity. The artisans want to reappear as gods
in this world, and the new religion will spread outwards from the
nomads. All the supernatural phenomena were designed to help them
do that.’

‘Why now? Why
didn’t they do this years ago?’

‘Oh, I don’t
know!’ Keea said irritably, ‘I expect they needed to replenish
their strength or something. Anyway, to the eloim, time is a
different concept than it is to humanity: because they are
immortal, they can afford to take things slowly.’