The Wraeththu Trilogy Read online

  "Snake!" I cried, and hit him, hard, with the back of my hand across the face. He snarled, dropping to all-fours, baring those immaculate, child's teeth, head thrown back; a neck of white cords. Then there was nothing.

  Then a shrinking howl; Ulaume vanished; upwards, sideways, backwards, in the smoke of his own hair.

  "For a moment or two I had to lean down; put my head between my knees. It was the first

  time I'd really tried to put into practice all that Orien had taught me. Supervised exercises,

  like moving a glass along a table-top are nothing in comparison. It was the difference between

  drawing a picture of killing someone and stabbing someone to death in cold blood. Although

  I had been trained to believe in my natural powers, some part of me was still surprised

  that it had worked. It felt like I'd been running. My chest

  ached, my heart raced and every breath was an effort. Blood had begun to bead on my wrist

  where Ulaume's hair had whipped around it. Lianvis, where are you? I wondered. Stumbling, absently licking away the blood, I went to seek him out.

  Lianvis's pavilion was like a maze of shrouds. It seemed larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. Sometimes there were dark, deep-piled carpets underfoot, sometimes only sand. I felt disorientated with shock after my struggle with Ulaume. I was not used to dealing with such things, and knew I should have taken more notice of what Cal had said about him. At the same time, however, I was glad that I had found out for myself. It had also proved to me just what I was capable of. I had needed that moment of danger to channel my powers. It had been that or defeat. Lianvis let me search for him for several minutes before he guided me to the inner chamber. It was draped in the darkest, non-reflecting black, and decorated with esoteric symbols. The curtains dropped behind me as I stepped into the room. I was still sucking my wrist which had begun to throb and prickle ominously.

  "You did well with Ulaume." Lianvis's voice came out of the shadows. I could see him sitting on the floor on the far side of the chamber, crosslegged, robed in silvery gray, his hair pooled around him like molten metal, in the metallic glow thrown out by a single lamp that was on the floor somewhere behind him.

  Shadows arched and flickered among the curtains like mocking spirits. "Was that a test?" I asked.

  Lianvis beckoned me to him. "Sit." I did so. "A test? Yes, of sorts, I suppose it was. I have been watching you Pellaz, while you slept, just now with my little pet, and I have reached a conclusion."

  "Oh? You admit to drugging us then? Last night?"

  Lianvis gave me a rueful smile. "Oh Pellaz, don't look so fierce. I only talked with you."

  "I don't remember."

  Lianvis shrugged. "Of course you don't. Now listen. My conclusion is this: it is not Brynie that you want or need."

  "Why?" I could not hide my disappointment. I had been feeling good about myself, now this.

  "Don't jump to conclusions. It is this. I shall raise you to Acantha, nothing less."

  "But Acantha is Ulani!" I cried. "I'm not ready!" Lianvis flapped a hand at me, leaning behind him and producing a long, carved wooden box. He opened it with leisure and drew out two long, slim black cigarettes, passing one to me.

  "Your excitement is uncalled for," he remarked, lighting his cigarette from a smoking taper of incense. Heavy browny-gray smoke plumed from his nostrils. "I have examined you. I am of Algoma level. Therefore I know. We have heard of Thiede here. Few in the world of Wraeththu have not. He is a potent force, neither light nor dark, but something of both. Only a fool would not fear him. You say he incepted you, and from what I have observed I see that you are telling the truth. You have great power Pellaz, but you must learn to harness and use it correctly as of now. Brynie would be a waste of time for you. A redundant exercise. You already know that much. Few of Acantha level could have managed what you did with Ulaume. He possesses an untramelled elemental force." "I could feel it," I said in wonder.

  Lianvis nodded. "There is more. Sometimes even I am wary of aruna with him, Pellaz. He is what is called Colurastean. His tribe are the Colurastes; sometimes called the snake people, though that is a deceptive term. They have nothing to do with reptiles."

  He remembered my unlit cigarette and leaned forward to light it for me. The smoke was acrid and burned the back of my throat although the aftertaste was pleasant.

  "You do not trust me, do you," Lianvis remarked, without rancour. "Not really," I admitted.

  He smiled. "No. A little wisdom on your part perhaps, or your friend Cal's. Kakkahaar have somewhat different ideals from those of the Wraeththu of Saltrock. We travel different paths. But I shall help you if you wish it to be so."

  "I have little choice. As you said, I can't waste any more time. The basic rituals must be the same . . ."

  "Yes. That is only a formality. I shall instruct you as impartially as I can, but," here he leaned forward, just a little, "in my opinion, you would benefit from learning a little of the darker side of Wraeththu power. With abilities such as yours, any experience can only be advantageous."

  I was not so sure about that. "Are you trying to glamorize me?" I asked him.

  He feigned surprise. "Pellaz, please!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

  "Lianvis, I'm not a fool, not completely. Inexperienced, yes, but not stupid enough to stray off the path now. I know the dark exists, we all do, but you cannot convince me that looking into it will benefit me." I stood Up. "I have to get this wrist seen to . . ." and made as if to leave.

  "Pellaz, sit down!" His voice was an order, but I avoided his eyes and remained standing. He sighed. "Alright, alright, sit down. You'll have the straight ascension and nothing more. Now, show me that wrist." I sat down again and held it out to him. Three short strokes, an unutterable word. He wiped his hands. "There. Is that better?" I looked. There was no sign of injury.

  "Fine," I said, gazing at it, flexing the fingers.

  "You could have done that yourself," he told me. "Now, to work together, you'll have to trust me a little." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Look," he continued, "your friend is Pyralisit, is he not? He will watch out for you. He can attend your instruction if you wish ..." I relaxed.

  "Very well. I'll trust you a little." And I indicated how much with my finger and thumb.

  "That much, eh?" Lianvis was amused. I raised my eyebrows at him and he said, "Ah, well, I suppose that is enough."

  It did not take me long to realize that Lianvis had been astute in his judgment of me. He gave me instruction for two weeks, and during that time I was surprised at the ease with which I handled his complicated teachings. It seemed I only had to hear the words once or twice for them to lodge ineradicably in my memory. It was no problem for me to recite them at will, no difficulty for me to muster my strengths and utilize them. Once, back home, the old priest had told Mima and myself that one day we might find the knowledge we had acquired a burden, more than anything else. "Where will you use all this that's in your heads?" he had wondered. I feel sure he would have violently disapproved of the direction my search for knowledge had now taken and been horrified that the foundations he had laid within my head should support such timbers of information as Lianvis now imparted, but I, at least remembered the old man with thanks at that time. Without that first teaching, none of what followed would have been so easy, if at all possible.

  Lianvis once told me I was "primal." He said this in a very grave and humorless tone, so that I was impelled to ask what he meant.

  "Simply that," he answered, smiling. "Your aura is primal—back to the beginning ... I get a feeling about you. Obviously, you'll have heard of the first Wraeththu; well, one of his names, used for invocation, is Aghama— that is an arcane word for "the first," literally, primary. His essence must be very strong because it is so pure. I sometimes get a whiff of that about you . . ."

  "Is it possible to invoke the first Wraeththu then?" I butted in impatiently.

  Lianvis
sighed wistfully. "It is possible to try," he said.

  Lianvis told me that two other Kakkahaar as well as himself would conduct my ascension ceremony. It would take place on the next night of the new moon, out in the desert, among the gray dunes. Only one thing bothered me. Cal would not be present. As he was of a lower level than the others, Lianvis pointed out, he had no place there.

  Several days before the completion of my studies, a man came to the Kakkahaar camp. He was accompanied by a fair-sized entourage, all muscle-swamped, trained killers from the look of them, and they traveled in an impressive cavalcade of heavy duty vehicles. We had been sweating in Lianvis's inner sanctum when the approach had been noticed. One of the Kakkahaar Aralids had burst into the room (that alone was unheard of), and announced, "Tiahaar Lianvis, Mr. Shasco is here again!" An expression of unbridled avarice transformed Lianvis's face from adept to merchant in the space of a single second. He rose quickly in a flapping of garments and rushed outside. Cal and I raised eyebrows at each other. This was something we had to see.

  Outside, the unrelenting sun flashed with the strength of white fire off the glittering chrome of Mr. Shasco's vehicles, that creaked as their engines tried to cool. Cal and I stood in the mouth of the tent, shading our eyes against the glare. A fleshy, red-faced man was descending from a hatchback, puffing with exertion and dressed in dripping khaki. He petulantly shrugged off assistance offered by his henchmen, and staggered forward; in appearance uncannily like an aggressive bulldog.

  "I need your help again," He rasped at Lianvis, lurching past him into the tent, not even looking at Cal and myself.

  Lianvis followed him, more slowly, grinning gleefully. When he saw us, his mouth pursed. "Pellaz, Cal, I'm afraid I have business to conduct now. You'll have to carry on without me today."

  "But I can't!" I protested. "I've learnt the preliminary exercises, and the responses. I can't do any more without you."

  Lianvis clenched his teeth. I knew I should have said something like, "Oh, it doesn't matter, we'll carry on tomorrow," but I could not resist being awkward. I disapproved of what he was doing anyway.

  "Go back inside," he said impatiently. "I'll find you something to get on with." He tried

  to hurry us past Shasco who had sprawled uncomfortably into the floor cushions and was fanning

  himself with his hat.

  "I'll be with you in a moment, Mr. Shasco," he said unctuously. "Ulaume! Refreshment, hurry up!

  I had never seen Lianvis so agitated. Money sat fanning itself in the main salon, of that I was sure.

  Within the inner room was a black chest bound with iron. From this Lianvis produced a dense and ancient tome of thaumaturgical lore which he thrust into my hands. Decrepit leather flaked through my fingers. "The third chapter, read it and I will test you later!" he exclaimed with triumph.

  "I will test you later," I mimicked, once he had gone, passing the book unceremoniously to Cal. Cal grinned with wolfish humor.

  "Fuck this, my precious," he said. "I think now is the time to indulge in a little casual eavesdropping."

  "He'll hear us!" I pointed out, none too keen. I was still sensibly wary of Lianvis, despite the amount of time Cal and I spent ridiculing him or lampooning his flamboyant mannerisms. I did not think he would take too kindly to us lurking in the draperies, listening to whatever transaction he was conducting with the corpulent Mr. Shasco. I felt sure he would catch us,

  "He won't know," Cal argued, "Come on, where's your spirit? We might learn something useful."

  "What, Mr. Shasco's fortune?" I asked scathingly, but followed him anyway. We crept stealthily back along the curtained corridors. I can recall, even to this day, the singular, pervading smell of Lianvis's tent. It was a burnt perfume smell, almost electric and hung like invisible curtains in the hot gloom of material curtains. Tendrils of less savory aromas mingled with it from the toilet facilities outside. In fact, we did not have to get too close to the main salon to be able to hear their voices. We could hear Shasco saying, ". . . superior quality. You can expect nothing less. The best; baptised, virgin ..."

  "And this impediment you mentioned. I trust you have brought some trifle, some personal trinket, with you." That was Lianvis talking. We could dear rustling.

  "Yes," Shasco answered him. "I knew you'd need something of the kind. Here, will this do?" A moment's pause.

  "Ah, yes. A ring. Yes, I can still get the feel of him."

  "Lianvis, it is vital this matter is dealt with immediately. God knows what mischief has been afoot whilst I've been traveling here ..." I could detect a note of panic in Shasco's voice, and could visualize Lianvis's expression of icy politeness.

  "But of course, Mr. Shasco, of course. Don't worry, it is of minor concern. Rest assured your enemy will trouble you no more. Now, once again, as to the payment . . ."

  "It is as I promised. When, where, shall I deliver it?" Shasco's voice was a disgusting wheeze, notes of lasciviousness vibrating within it.

  "Tonight. By sundown I shall have concluded your business. After that. . . . There is a place half an hour's walk from the camp toward the west. There are stones above the sand, big stones. They are visible from some distance away. Deliver it there. Wait for me if you get there first; there are certain preparations ..." Lianvis's voice was terse.

  "And . .. you will let me stay?" An obscene plea. There was silence and I could sense Lianvis's

  disgust.

  After a short while, I heard him sigh. "Very well. Yes," he said. Cal put a hand on my shoulder

  and I jumped. The curtains trembled. "Come on Pell," he whispered. "I've heard all I want

  to."

  Back in the inner room, we sat on the floor and looked at each other

  "God, I can't believe that!" Cal exclaimed, hitting the air with his fist. "Is it ... then?" I asked stupidly. Cal did not answer me. "Lianvis is nothing more than a paid killer, and for men too! How could he?"

  "Oh simple," I replied. "For money. Economies crumble like burnt wood all over the face of the globe, but there's no denying it can still buy a lot . . ."

  "Oh grow up, Pell!" Cal sneered at me, making me feel ridiculous. "You can be really stupid sometimes! There's more to it than that. Didn't you listen?! Since when has money to be" (and here he struck a typical Lianvis pose) " 'delivered to the secret place when the moon is high'? Money? God! Pathetic!"

  "What then?" I asked in a small voice but I thought I knew.

  "Flesh," Cal muttered, with a grimace. "Of what kind, I'm not sure, but I'd swear to it. Flesh; Mr. Shasco pays in blood."

  It was inevitable that Cal wanted to follow Shasco that night. I knew it would be an expedition fraught with the most horrible danger and told him so. "You were the one who warned me off Ulaume. You were the one that told me caution had kept you alive. Now this!"

  "Now this!" Cal agreed, a fanatical light in his eyes. (A look I came to dread). "Remember, Pell, you'll be alone with these creeps and in a position of submission pretty soon. How long is it to your ascension ceremony? Two days? Three? Maybe after tonight, you'll decide to forego the honor. Maybe you'll learn something useful."

  "Oh alright, alright," I said, giving in, starting to flick through Lianvis's book, seeing

  nothing.

  "Look, Lianvis will be busy magicking Shasco's foes this evening. He'll have little time

  for us. Drugged wine again, perhaps? We'll take a romantic walk in the desert together,

  before the eminent Mr. Shasco trundles forth."

  I could not really understand Cal's zeal for nosing into Lianvis's business. I felt it had nothing to do with us; the only interest I had was simple curiosity.

  It was without surprise that we received the news that we would receive our evening meal in our own room that night. Ulaume had been efficient in his attempts of avoiding me since our skirmish, but it was he that brought our food to us. Cal was feeling bored, lying on the bed, and I could see a cruel mischievous light come into his eyes as Ulaume silentl
y laid out our food. He watched the Colurastean for some minutes, various calculations slipping across his features, before uttering, "Come here, snake-beast," in a voice like ripping silk. Ulaume glanced up, his hands wavering above the plates. I still thought him beautiful and watched him carefully. He did not look at me. I could tell he was frightened of Cal. He started to back away, but with striking speed, Cal shot up and grabbed his wrist. Ulaume made a pitiful little sound, half whine, half cry.

  "I said come here," Cal hissed through his gritted teeth. "Where's that now? You can stay can't you? Won't you share breath with me, Kakkahaar plaything."

  "No," Ulaume gasped, trying to prize himself out of Cal's hold with his free hand.

  "He's not Kakkahaar," I said, "Colurastes."

  "He's Kakkahaar," Cal spat, shaking him. "You're Kakkahaar, aren't you, Ulaume. The