The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence (17 page)

Loki almost laughed. ‘Skripi… Geburael… my father’s former consort was killed virtually by his own hand. It was his choice to die.’

Geburael got to his feet. ‘We’re not speaking of Terzian har Varr, Loki. Calanthe har Aralis is not your father. That’s just one of the lies.’

Loki felt as if Geburael had punched his stomach. For a moment, it was difficult to draw breath, then he managed to say, with dignity: ‘I don’t believe you.’

Geburael shook his head at these words. ‘Loki, you must believe. I have no reason to lie. Your father is Galdra har Freyhella. We have been given information about this. You were conceived on a field of battle, while the Aralisian performed Grissecon with the Freyhellan to defeat my hostling. That is a fact and not even Pellaz would dare deny it if you asked him outright.’

Much as this news was distressing, Loki felt the information settle within him and knew instinctively that it was true. It explained a lot. Galdra was aware of this truth, which was why he’d said the Gelaming had done him a discourtesy in bringing Loki to Freygard. But some arrangement had been made, some understanding arrived at, in order for Loki to be educated with the Freyhellans. Everything made sense, except for one thing. ‘You still haven’t said why I’m here,’ Loki said. ‘If we are kin, why didn’t you just tell me?’

Geburael laughed harshly. ‘Because of who my parents are. If I’d made myself known to you, and you’d revealed that knowledge, the Tigrons would have tried to imprison me, as they did my parents. Not that they’d have succeeded, but I don’t want them to be aware of me just yet. Pellaz is mad, drunk on power. He is a threat to Wraeththukind. It’s important you know the truth, because you are his heir.’

‘
You
are his enemy,’ Loki said. ‘That’s why you’re saying these things. Don’t think me so stupid. I know who Ponclast is, what he tried to do.
He
was deranged. How do you plan to use me?’

‘I don’t plan to
use
you,’ Geburael said. ‘I want to make you aware of the facts, that’s all, and then you can make up your own mind. Naturally, you’re prejudiced against me at the moment. I expect that. But I’ll show you things that will enlighten you.’

Loki had already resolved to appear to co-operate, since this could buy him time. He realised he must concentrate on drawing Cal to him, for he had no doubt Cal would be looking for him. Did Cal know the truth about Galdra? Somehow, Loki felt that he must, which made his sincere love all the more precious. ‘What things?’ Loki asked. His mind went back to the creatures from which they’d fled. ‘What are the Thanax?’

‘Leeches,’ Geburael replied. ‘They feed on living essence. I’ll show you how to protect yourself from them. They’re drawn by warmth; you must learn to project cold, and then they’ll ignore you.’

‘What is this place exactly?’

‘Another realm, another exit point of the otherlanes, like the earthly realm is. Diablo found it years ago. He brought me here for safety after Fulminir fell. We have… assistance here.’

‘Did the Thanax once live in these towers?’

Geburael shook his head. ‘No. Diablo gave them that name. He learned the name of this city, and this realm. The Thanax are a fairly recent phenomenon, he thinks. We’ve tried to kill them, but it’s impossible. They never get that close and can move quicker than a thought flies through the psyche. But we’ve been drained by them and it’s not pleasant. They’re not deadly, but they’ll send you into a stupor, take all your strength and energy.’

‘If they feed on life force, who else do they draw nourishment from, apart from you? This place seems almost barren.’

‘They don’t,’ Geburael said, ‘well, not here. That is why they’re constantly hungry, although Diablo thinks they can access other realms, feed from those who frequent the otherlanes, for example. Most hara are most likely unaware of it. We look on them as otherlanes parasites. Why there’s a colony of them here, we don’t know. Once you can protect yourself, they’re no bother.’ He smiled. ‘If you’ve refreshed yourself, I’ll take you to Diablo. Remember to project cold. You’ve had some caste training, I take it?’

‘Scant,’ Loki said. ‘I’ve just passed feybraiha, remember.’

‘I remember,’ Geburael said.

Loki could recall little of the night when Geburael had first visited him, other than that he’d felt strangely drawn to him. Still, it was difficult to imagine they had taken aruna together. Loki could remember the strange wounds he’d woken up with. What had Geburael done to him? He did not seem to be entirely har.  ‘Why didn’t Seydir come to me?’ he asked. ‘What did you do to him?’

Geburael frowned. ‘I don’t know that har.’

‘He was the one who had been chosen for me for feybraiha, the one whose place you stole.’

‘Diablo dealt with certain aspects of the operation,’ Geburael said. ‘I had no part in that.’

‘But what did…?’

Geburael held up his hands. ‘You have many questions, I know. I’ll answer as many of them as I can, but now we should leave this place.’

Loki nodded. ‘Take me to your brother.’ In his voice, he heard the ringing tone of Aralis, his bloodline. He must not let these strange and possibly dangerous exiled hara forget who he was.

Once outside Mutandis, Loki expected the Thanax who’d spotted them earlier to be lurking around, waiting for him and Geburael to re-emerge, but apparently the creatures did not have that much of an attention span and had wandered off.  Still, Loki was nervous as he and Geburael jogged between the shadows of the silent, looming towers. He kept expecting a hideous shape to leap out at them.

Years before, Diablo had escaped from Fulminir, or rather had been expelled by Cal, during the battle between the
sedim
and the
teraphim
. On his flight, Diablo had had the wits to scoop up the harling Geburael from Abrimel’s arms. At the time, Abrimel had been rendered senseless and didn’t notice the abduction. Ponclast had already been delivered into Lileem’s custody and the battle outside had been nearly over. Diablo had been injured by Cal, but even so his determination had kept him going, and he had slipped into the otherlanes, to relative safety.

Although Ponclast had not known it, Diablo had been making his own investigations of the otherlanes for some time. Wraeththu, perhaps subtly influenced by the
sedim
, steadfastly refused to explore other realms, believing them to be hostile to harish life and therefore deadly. Diablo had no such concerns. If he emerged into a realm where the air was unbreathable, he’d be out again in the blink of an eye. If he emerged into solid rock and died, then he died. He didn’t really hold his own life in much esteem, but he was a creature full of curiosity.

After many abortive attempts to emerge into realms other than earth, Diablo eventually tumbled out into Thanatep. Something about the place appealed to him: the silent, sentinel towers of the city; the crumbling hints of a civilization long dead. Little was left as evidence, but once Diablo composed himself in trance, the name Thannaril came to him, which he supposed was accurate. The Thanadrim, who’d built the city, and had once occupied the entire world, were gone, but their ghosts, their memories and their feelings remained. Diablo did not discover the Thanax until the time he brought Geburael to Thannaril. He supposed this was because his own life force was not particularly palatable to parasites.

When Loki laid eyes on Diablo for the first time, he was shocked. It wasn’t that Diablo was deformed particularly, or even horrific to behold, but he was so different, he barely looked harish. His eyes were abnormally large, his cheekbones like blades, his chin narrow and pointed. His hair was blacker than the eerie sky and so thick it resembled lush jungle vegetation rather than hair. His dark gaze was compelling, like that of a hypnotic predator. Loki felt Diablo could see right into him. It was also clear, from first acquaintance, that he felt no kinship to Loki. Whatever motives Geburael might have for bringing Loki here, Diablo’s were different. Loki wondered what kind of monster Ponclast must be to spawn such progeny.

Diablo did not smile or utter a greeting when Loki stepped into what was clearly his personal space. He merely inclined his head, and indicated that Loki should sit down. There were some ragged cushions on the floor that had seemingly once been quite plush. Loki settled himself and Diablo went to prepare food.  

Apanage Tower was perhaps the least dilapidated in Thannaril. All its floors were still intact and these had been equipped with a few bits of furniture that Geburael and Diablo had filched from the earthly realm: as well as the cushions for seating, there were small tables, even bed rolls for sleeping. The realm was not as barren as it first appeared. Geburael explained there were small mammals and reptiles to hunt for food, as well as a few species of reptilian birds. The plants, though tough and stringy, were plentiful and nourishing. There were no hearths or chimneys in the tower, so fires for cooking and warmth had to be built directly on the floor. Fortunately, the wood from the local hardy shrubs was virtually smokeless, if carefully dried beforehand.

When Diablo served the meal, it looked unappetizing at best. There was no meat, but a stew of dark weeds that tasted bitter. Salt or spices would have made it more palatable, but Diablo had no such condiments to cook with and clearly considered the matter too trivial to amend by fetching some from the earthly realm. Loki forced down the stew, knowing he should keep up his strength.

Geburael had been brought up in this place, Loki realised, suddenly sensing what a lonely harlinghood his surakin must have had. Diablo was hardly lively company, being dour and mostly silent, although it was obvious he had a fierce protective streak concerning his half-brother. Even so, Loki thought that Geburael should really have been brought up in Immanion, among kin more savory and sane. He could not imagine that Pellaz would have been cruel to the harling; after all, Geburael was his high-son. Diablo loathed the Gelaming, with a passion beyond imagining, and Geburael had been indoctrinated into his brother’s beliefs. Now, he sought to indoctrinate Loki in a similar manner, but Loki was aware that could work both ways.

While they ate, Geburael explained how Loki should protect himself from the Thanax. ‘Imagine a shield of cold, and put all your intention into it,’ he said. ‘It’s a kind of camouflage, like the ones that some animals use. There are creatures here that can look like stones and their skins are so tough it’s hardly worth the effort of hunting them. Be like that. Make yourself a tasteless morsel.’

Loki
did not look forward to the time he must test this defense. While Geburael talked, as if they had known each other for years, and this was a social visit, Diablo studied Loki with a hard gaze. At first, Loki was intimidated by this, but gradually the feeling mutated into annoyance. He was the heir of Aralis. He would not be regarded this way by such a freak. ‘What do you want of me?’ he asked Diablo, in a haughty tone. He was curious as to what the har’s answer might be.

Diablo gave him a grisly smile. ‘You will decide your own fate,’ he said.

Loki shuddered, and hoped it didn’t show. ‘I find that hard to believe. I was brought here mostly against my will. Did you kill to bring me here?’ He managed to hold Diablo’s gaze after this question, wishing strongly he’d never voiced it.

‘We did what had to be done,’ Diablo said coldly.

‘How much do you know of the Rout
of Fulminir?’ Geburael asked, clearly to change the subject.

Loki stirred the mess on his plate with a spoon. ‘I know that following the First Fall of Fulminir, Ponclast har Varr was imprisoned by Thiede in the Forest of Gebaddon for his crimes against harakind. I know that he later broke free with otherworldly assistance, and attempted to reform his tribe and apply himself to regaining control. He tried to rebuild Fulminir, but was vanquished by my hostling… and Galdra har Freyhella. Now he is imprisoned somewhere and his hara have scattered.’

‘That is the surface of the story,’ Diablo said. He put down his plate very carefully and composed himself in a cross-legged position, his long limbs curling up like those of a large spider. ‘The fact is that the Gelaming are the tools of a faction whose representatives in the earthly realm are the
sedim
. The Gelaming are ignorant, proud and arrogant. They believe these unearthly creatures are simply willing vessels of transportation. They are wrong.  All the realms are constantly in flux, for they are resources for higher beings. The earthly realm is under dispute. Its lowly denizens have no awareness of this.  They have no need for it. But those of us who do have it, are aware of something else too: it makes no difference to us who has control, because we have no evidence for it in daily life. When a stronger force wishes to take what is theirs, they should not be opposed, because that could cause the destruction of the world. It is in the interest of all living beings on earth that the stronger forces should have their way. The
sedim
care nothing for Wraeththu; they are simply pawns. The
sedim
should be removed.  Our masters know that Wraeththu have tasted the otherlanes and that the privilege should not be taken from them. Other means will be provided, once the
sedim
are no more.’

Loki had ridden
sedim
many times, and anyhar who travels with them forges a strong bond with the creatures. He could not believe that any
sedu
was this heartless thing that Diablo intimated. ‘Have you ever traveled with a
sedu
?’ Loki asked.

Diablo pulled a sour face. ‘No. I have no need. Neither would they carry me. I am their enemy.’

Loki said nothing about this, and hoped his pointed silence was noted. He took another mouthful of food, chewed it, conscious of Geburael’s attention upon him. It was clear to Loki that Geburael wanted Diablo to warm to him. The two hara had different agendas, and perhaps Geburael wasn’t as mature and worldly as he liked to project.

‘Are you responsible for the strange portal in Freygard?’ Loki asked Diablo. ‘Is that how Skripi… Geburael… reached me?’