Scenting Hallowed Blood (38 page)

Aninka brushed Emma off, easily
disengaging herself from the woman’s grasp. ‘The sea is ebbing and
flowing within me,’ she said in a strange, cracked voice. ‘The
tides pull me.’

‘Ninka!’ Emma was worried now.
Her strength was no match for a Grigori woman. She knew she
couldn’t drag Aninka back inside on her own. What was out here?
Emma glanced around herself fearfully, but could see nothing more
threatening than the furiously tossed branches of the rhododendrons
nearby.

Then, Aninka uttered a peculiar
groan, and broke away from Emma. She ran down into the rhododendron
grove, towards the cliff, her long legs devouring the distance
effortlessly. Emma ran after her. As she emerged from the grove,
she saw Aninka scrambling over the crumbled wall that provided the
only barrier against the sheer drop to the cove beneath. ‘No!’
Perhaps the panicked tone to her scream caused Aninka to waver.
Emma leapt over the wall and with all the strength she possessed,
enfolded Aninka in a tight embrace and threw both of them backward
with the weight of her body. They fell heavily, landing upon broken
rubble. Emma was afraid she’d broken bones in the fall, but when
Aninka crawled away from her, found she was able to get up without
pain. Aninka was on all fours before her, staring at the ground.
Emma squatted down beside her. ‘What the hell did you think you
were doing?’

Aninka looked up at her, her
eyes glazed. ‘I... I don’t know. Something called me.’ She shook
her head. ‘I feel sick!’

‘You could have killed
yourself.’

‘I know.’ Aninka’s body jerked
and she retched.

Emma looked out at the place
where Aninka had crawled through the broken wall. The sea looked
very odd this evening, almost as if it was lit up from deep below.
‘It’s a strange night,’ she said. ‘The sea looks like it’s
glowing.’

Aninka got shakily to her feet,
but seemed nervous of approaching the wall.

‘Great Shem!’ Emma’s oath was
uttered in a low, shocked voice. ‘Ninka, what’s that?’

Reluctantly, Aninka came to
stand beside her at the wall. They looked down upon the cove, where
the sea sucked halfway up the sand. The sky was dark, the moon
occluded by clouds, yet they could see through the spectral
twilight as if every rock and grain of sand exuded its own sick
light.

Something was crawling up the
shore from the sea, crawling on its belly like the first primal
fish that had struggled to its evolution on the land. Weed and foam
plastered its flesh and its long, bedraggled hair. It was a woman,
but no ordinary female. Emma felt as if they were looking upon some
primordial Eve, a proto-woman clawing her way from the womb of the
sea. Behind her in the flashing waves, the heads of seals bobbed
and dove, and other more human-looking creatures rode the surf.
They looked like mermen — half man, half fish — huge erections
thrusting forth from the place where their barnacled tails
began.

‘They are oanes,’ Aninka
murmured.

‘Whats?’ Emma swallowed
thickly.

‘Sea people.’

Emma shuddered, filled with a
sense of deja vu. She remembered how she’d felt at the High Place
in Little Moor as she’d watched Peverel Othman begin his
invocations to the Ahriman. She felt the same way now. Something
terrible was about to happen. She grabbed Aninka’s arm. ‘Inside the
house! Now!’

This time, Aninka did not fight
her.

On the beach below, Tamara lay
panting upon the sand. Her wild euphoria had ebbed. Now, she felt
exhausted. She could hear the call of the seals and the oanes
behind her, and sensed their frantic excitement. She herself was
filled with the knowledge that soon Shemyaza would come to her. All
around her, the shore vibrated with the energy of imminent
transformation. Tamara rolled onto her back. She remembered being
swallowed by the waves and the touch of slithering male hands upon
her. She remembered riding the furious surf with a slick, cold body
clasped between her legs, its icy, inhuman phallus buried deep
within her. Behind her, further up the shore, she sensed the
thought-form of Ishtahar tugging at its psychic chains in panic.
Struggle on, feeble maiden.
Soon, the great earth serpent
would awake. Tamara knew that when it did, she would be a goddess.
She would ride its power. Laughing.

Once the ritual of coronation ended,
the Parzupheim seemed far more relaxed. They believed, Daniel
realised, that Shemyaza was now wholly theirs; their Messiah, the
saviour of their world. Enniel took Shem into an antechamber of the
temple, presumably to divest him of his ceremonial garb. In the
main room, lights bloomed dimly around the walls, and the
Parzupheim filed out into another room. Daniel and Sofia were left
alone. He sensed the woman was considering what she should say to
him.

She thinks she has my measure,
he thought, but she’s still not wholly clear about it.

Sofia grinned at him, in a
manner designed to be confidential and understanding. ‘Be kind to
Shemyaza tonight,’ she said, laying a proprietorial hand on
Daniel’s shoulder. ‘If his behaviour is peculiar, indulge him.’

Daniel nodded warily. ‘Of
course.’

Sofia rose from her seat and
smoothed her skirt. ‘Well, there’s no point in remaining here.’

Daniel stood up. He wondered
where Enniel would take Shem now. Would he be allowed to see him
again tonight? He felt they should discuss what had happened
today.

Sofia preceded him out to the
corridor, where she turned to appraise him. ‘Well, Daniel, I expect
we shall see each other tomorrow. I thought it best I stay here
tonight.’

Daniel couldn’t prevent a
frown. ‘Why? Are you expecting something to happen?’ He had visions
of the serpent stretching forth from sleep to burst up through the
foundations of High Crag.

Sofia laughed faintly at the
alarm in his voice. ‘My dear, it is just a precaution. I doubt if
anything will happen instantaneously.’ She patted his shoulder.
‘Anyway, don’t worry. Everything will work out fine. See you.’ She
breezed away from him down the corridor.

Daniel watched her retreating
form for a moment. There was something about the swagger in her
walk that alerted him. What
was
Sofia’s agenda?

Hoping to find Shemyaza, Daniel
went to his suite on the first floor. It was empty, and smelled of
old incense with a faint hint of wax. Daniel got into the bed,
fully clothed, and sat resting against the headboard, watching the
night outside through the open curtains. He sensed the flexing of
the serpent beneath the earth, and his own belly churned in
response. He sensed imminence, the approach of something vast and
terrifying and wondrous.

Shem came into the room about
half an hour later. Daniel said, ‘I need a drink. Can you get
something?’ He realised he wanted Shem to stay as he was, someone
as involved with the trivia of everyday life as with the dark
arcana of Grigori heritage. Would the Divine King be capable of
fetching a bottle from a room downstairs?

Shem shrugged at him. He looked
tired, but not that different from how he’d been before the
ceremony. ‘OK.’ He picked up a phone extension next to the bed and
called Austin’s office; someone was on duty in there round the
clock, like in a hotel. Shem asked for two bottles of wine to be
sent up; one red, one white. Daniel was amused by this, but
disappointed.

‘You have slaves now,’ he
said.

Shem lay down beside him on top
of the bed and put his arms behind his head. ‘It’s been a very
strange day.’

‘It’s a strange night,
too.’

‘You’re angry. What’s
wrong?’

Daniel sighed. ‘I feel...
confused. Everything’s happening so quickly. I feel like we have no
control.’

Shem turned onto his side,
resting his head on one hand. ‘That’s not the case. Don’t let the
Parzupheim’s songs and dances upset you.’

‘It’s not that! It’s the rest
of it. Sofia, this Salamiel. Shem, I’m suspicious of it.’

‘Really? I’m just curious.’

Daniel sensed Shem’s deliberate
reticence. His interest, of course, involved rather more than
curiosity.

A soft knock at the door
signalled the arrival of the wine. Shem swung himself off the bed
to fetch it.

Daniel watched him as he poured
two large glasses of dark red liquor. There was a tense atmosphere
in the room, an omen that more was to be said. He accepted the
glass from Shem and took a deep breath. Every doubt had to be
aired. ‘Another thing I’m not happy with is the way you’re trying
to pass the buck onto me all the time.’

Shem laughed and lay down on
the bed again. ‘I’m not!’

‘You are! You didn’t just pass
me a cloak of feathers to teach me how to fly. It was all about
handing me your responsibilities. You want me to enter the
underworld for you.’

Shem took a drink of wine.
‘Well, I think you should. You’re far more capable than I am.’

Daniel could have hit him. ‘Are
you mad? You know what the Parzupheim said to you. You’re their
Messiah. Enniel told us that you’re the only one who can withstand
the gaze of the serpent. Anyone else will probably just be... I
don’t know... burned alive! Is that what you want for me?’

‘Daniel, whatever the
Parzupheim think of me, I don’t have the light of truth within me.
I’m not their Messiah.’

‘Oh wake up, will you! They
called you the son of the serpent, and I believe them. I know
what’s inside you, Shem.’

‘I can’t do it.’

‘Then what was all that about
today? Why did you go through with their little charade? And it was
little,
Shem.’

Shem eyed him speculatively. ‘I
thought that was what you wanted. What changed your mind?’

Daniel shook his head in
confusion. ‘I don’t know! Something felt wrong about it. You looked
like an imbecile.’

Shem laughed dryly.
‘Thanks.’

Daniel reached out and touched
his arm. ‘I’m not insulting you. They did something to you. Can’t
you remember? Did they drug you?’

‘Probably. Anyway, it was just
to satisfy them, silence their nagging. It doesn’t mean I’m going
to do what they ask of me.’

‘That’s different. I still
think you should. Not for the Parzupheim, but for yourself.’

Shem glanced at the ceiling in
exasperation. ‘No, Daniel. I really can’t.’

‘You can. You must. Just
overcome all the bitterness inside and take a leap of faith.’

‘How easy it is for you to say
that!’

Daniel sensed Shem’s
withdrawal. This arguing would do no good, yet he felt unable to
keep his thoughts to himself. ‘You’re not just bitter, you’re lazy!
Shem, you’re more than all the rest of the Grigori put together.
Surely that’s a privilege and a responsibility? Acting like a
spoilt child is... well, it’s ungrateful.’

‘Hah! So I’m supposed to be
grateful for being tortured and abused am I? You ignorant little
bastard! How can you say that? I never asked to have my soul
imprisoned, along with all the memories of my original life, only
to have it flung back at me now. My people did nothing for me. They
ruined me. I only despise them now.’

‘This isn’t just about
your
people, Shem, but the whole world.’

‘So fucking what!’

‘I’m not condoning what
happened to you in the past...’

‘Shut up, you don’t remember
half of it.’

‘I do! In Little Moor I lived
through your death. I saw it.’

‘Death? Is that all! Daniel go
fuck someone and dream the rest of it will you? You’ve missed some
salient details out.’

‘Oh Shem, stop being difficult
for the sake of it.’

‘Right, OK, I’ll go and do it
for you, shall I? I’ll just go down into this fucking underworld,
wherever it is, and face their demons. That’s what it’s all about,
you know. Get real, Daniel, see it as it is. They don’t want me to
come out again, don’t you understand? For me, afternoon tea with
the serpent would be a one-way ticket. That’s the bit you
conveniently forget — my scapegoat aspect.’

‘You’re afraid!’

‘Yes!’

‘But why? You have the power to
survive, I know you do, even if the Parzupheim see you only as a
sacrifice. Forget them. Think about us.’

Shem narrowed his eyes at
Daniel. ‘Oh? Why is this so important to you? Why should you care?’
Daniel didn’t answer, and Shem rolled his eyes in sarcasm. ‘Oh,
I see,
you care about the world. You green little
queen!’

‘Don’t speak to me like
that!’

‘I don’t want to speak to you
at all. Shut the fuck up!’

Uttering an angry cry, Daniel
threw his wine glass onto the floor and turned on his side. Silence
descended like lint over a wound.

Shem finished his wine, drank
another two glasses in quick succession, then got up from the bed
and undressed himself. He turned off the lights and climbed in
beside Daniel, who still lay with his back to him.

Daniel was taut with fury. Shem
had never spoken to him like that before. He knew it was important
their rift was healed, but was too angry to address it now. The
reek of spilled wine was tart in the room, hanging there like an
accusing symbol of the sourness between them.
We can sort it out
tomorrow,
Daniel thought.
Everything will be fine once we’ve
talked it through.
He hoped Shem would think about what they’d
said.

Shem lay awake for hours and
was aware of when Daniel’s breathing changed, indicating he was
asleep. Shem felt restless and frustrated. He hated the
responsibility everyone was trying to project on him. It was as if
they wanted him to marry a woman he found repulsive and who would
eat him alive. The whole world annoyed him. The coronation had been
embarrassing and pathetic, a travesty. All it represented to him
was being bound by chains and authority. Bureaucracy and tradition;
stale, worn out and meaningless. None of what the Parzupheim had
talked about that afternoon seemed real. He appreciated the
existence of the serpent, and could sense its freezing breath
burning the back of his neck, but felt the people around him were
somehow missing the point of it all. They were trying to make it
small and manageable, when in reality it was almost too huge and
mystifying to comprehend. Daniel had a romantic view, believing
that Shemyaza could ride into battle like a king, dressed in silver
mail with a magic sword in his hand. He thought that the serpent
was a physical creature and that Shem could simply approach it,
tell it to wake, and save the world. But Shem feared the serpent
was beyond their imaginations. The encounter could not be physical
like that, but a psychic trauma. Now, Shem regretted what he’d said
to Daniel, although not to the extent where he felt he should
apologise. Why couldn’t Daniel see sense? He’d fallen for the
fairy-tales.
Stop thinki
ng about this, he told himself.
Just sleep. Deal with it tomorrow.