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  “I wanted so badly for it to work,” Pellaz said. “I thought it could have done. I was wrong. And now Thiede is gone and the whole world is falling apart.”

  “It's not over yet,” Cobweb said, stroking Pell's hair. “Be strong, my beautiful friend. But be wise also. Send Terez to look for Dorado, and we will go to Shilalama together. I am interested in meeting Opalexian, very interested.”

  Pellaz raised his head and breathed deep, banishing the unwelcome feelings. He must not become their prey. He could betray no weakness. “I have told Terez to ask Tyson to accompany him on his search.”

  Cobweb was silent for a moment, then said, “Ty will appreciate that. He pulls at the bit here. An adventure will do him good. He needs to find his own place in the world.”

  “But you do not wholly approve of my idea. I can tell.”

  “It's not because of me,” Cobweb said, “it's because of the one who will be left behind. Tyson has a chesnari, a har I like very much. He will be devastated.”

  “Tyson will return,” Pellaz said. “Terez will look out for him.”

  “I know. I'm not concerned for Ty's safety. I just worry that once he's had a taste of the world, he won't come back here. He is Cal's son, after all, even if it does feel like he's mine. He needs a bigger life than any that Galhea can offer him.”

  “Then he deserves to have one.”

  Cobweb nodded. “I know. Thank you for giving him a chance, Pell. I know it's not easy for you to accept him.”

  “Let's go back to the house. I'd like to talk to Tyson before we sleep tonight. Terez and he can leave first thing in the morning. Perhaps you could give him some idea about where to start looking. Tell him what you told me.”

  Cobweb stood up. “OK. I could do with a drink now. A large one.”

  Pell looked up at him. “I'm sorry for what I said. Take it as a compliment. I can be myself with you.”

  Cobweb smiled. “Apology accepted. Let's go.”

  Cobweb and Pellaz joined Tyson and Terez, in the bedroom where they were still talking. They discussed between them where Terez should first search for Dorado, and it seemed fairly conclusive to all of them that Terez and Tyson should head north. Pellaz decided that they should not ride sedim, not just – he said – because Tyson wasn't trained to control a sedu, but also because more clues could be picked up from the countryside along the way. Tyson knew the Gelaming were reluctant to let outsiders own or even ride the sedim, and suspected that was Pell's prime motive in suggesting they use a more conventional mode of travel.

  Pellaz, clearly picking up on this thought, said, “One day, you will come to Immanion, Tyson. At that time, I will see to it that you are trained how to control a sedu.”

  The message – to Tyson – was clear: behave and prove yourself, and I will be more inclined to be generous.

  The discussion was brief, because Terez wanted to make an early start in the morning. They would ride north and investigate ruined human communities beside lakes. Cobweb was fairly sure it would not be a coastal town. Megalithica was a big country. The search could take months, if not years. In the meantime, Cobweb would continue to seek psychic information, which would be relayed to them through Pellaz's close telepathic link with Terez.

  Tyson did not want to go to bed, because he no longer felt tired. He'd have been quite happy to start travelling immediately. Cobweb said he'd go to the library to find a good map for Terez, and Tyson trailed along behind him. He thought he might as well study the map for a while and perhaps make some notes about which locations they should visit. Sedim would make the job so much easier, he thought. Pellaz didn't trust him with one. Perhaps the Tigron wasn't as keen to find Dorado as he seemed. Surely, if he had any sense of urgency, he'd have made sure his trackers used the most efficient method of transport available.

  “Where do you think you're going?” Cobweb asked, as they reached the doors to the library.

  “With you,” Tyson answered. “I thought...”

  “No, there is somewhere else you should go,” Cobweb said. “Go now.”

  Tyson held Cobweb's gaze for some moments, then glanced away. “All right. If I must.”

  Cobweb made a sound of displeasure. “I cannot believe you even contemplated leaving here without doing so.”

  “To be honest, it slipped my mind. This has been a big surprise.”

  “Don't lie to me, Tyson. You will never get away with it.”

  Tyson sighed heavily and trudged to the stables. The one thing he would not miss about home was the fact that Cobweb always knew everything. As for the other thing, he wasn't sure whether he'd miss it or not. At the moment, he had no feelings about it, other than a mild discomfort about the possibility of an emotional scene. He rode swiftly into town, directly to the house where Ferany lived.

  Tyson didn't want to advise Ferany's parents that he was there, so trusted Ferany had gone to bed and threw stones at his window. Eventually, a light came on and Ferany opened the window. He is beautiful, Tyson thought, but that is not enough.

  “What's wrong?” Ferany asked.

  “Come down. We need to talk.”

  “Why the secrecy?”

  “Just come done here.”

  It was not that difficult to tell Ferany he was leaving Galhea. Of course, he could not divulge the true nature of the job he'd been given, but said that he was working for the Tigron and would be travelling with Terez. Ferany appeared to accept the news well. “Will you be gone for a long time?”

  “I expect so,” Tyson replied, and now came the difficult part. “Ferany, I have to say this: don't wait for me.”

  Ferany frowned a little. “I'm not sure I understand you. I live here, so... Did you think I'd be celibate while you were away? What do you mean?”

  Tyson took Ferany's hands in his own. “I mean... I might not come back.”

  “Are you involved in something dangerous?”

  “No.” Tyson took a deep breath. “This isn't what I want, Fer. I don't want us, you moving into Forever, blood bond, harlings, or whatever. I'm sorry. I think this has happened for the best.”

  Ferany removed his hands from Tyson's hold. “I see.” He laughed, raggedly. “Strange, I thought we were chesna. I thought we both felt the same.”

  “When I got this offer, I knew,” Tyson said. “I just felt this... I don't know... huge sense of relief. Oh hell, that sounds bad. I didn't mean it how it sounds. It's just...”

  “Cobweb spoke to me some days ago. We talked about the future and he told me he was looking forward to me becoming part of the family.”

  “Oh. Well, it's taken us all by surprise, this offer of a job.”

  “Only a couple of days ago you were rejoicing that you wouldn't have to go to Immanion. You were moaning about the Gelaming. Now this. I can't take it in.” Ferany gazed up at the sky and Tyson could see the glisten of unshed tears in the moonlight. “I can't believe this,” Fereny said. “I really can't. How could you just change so much so quickly?”

  Tyson rubbed his face. “It's not that I'm not fond of you, Fer. I am. You're beautiful and great company. Aruna with you is like...”

  “Oh shut up!” Ferany interrupted. Without further words, he punched Tyson in the face, which sent him reeling. “You shit,” he said and walked back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

  Tyson continued to see stars for several moments longer. That had not been quite the reaction he'd anticipated.

  Chapter Ten

  The moment Abrimel har Aralis let in the darkness was the moment he heard the news from Immanion about his hostling. Anyhar would be forgiven for assuming he must have been filled with a cold focused rage, directed particularly against not only the assailant responsible for the attack, but the hara who had been instrumental in getting Caeru with pearl. But this was not the case. The darkness in Abrimel's heart was a kind of quiet self-justified glee.

  This time it was not Velaxis who brought the news. It was an official from Caeru's office, who obviou
sly, and kind-heartedly, had felt it was important for the Tigrina's son to be made aware of circumstances when everyhar else had forgotten him in the chaos. The message had not come directly to Abrimel, who'd been out in the field at the time, but had been received by one of his staff, who had the unenviable task of relaying the information to his employer once he returned to Imbrilim. In a daze, Abrimel asked the right questions in a clipped and strained tone, nodded curtly to the answers, and everyhar who witnessed his strangely blank response imagined he was stunned by what he'd heard. Abrimel was known as a private kind of har. Nohar expected him to confide in them or demonstrate his feelings.

  Left alone, Abrimel nursed the gratifying thought: 'serves you right', and was amazed to discover he didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. Caeru had brought his misfortunes on himself. He'd learned nothing during all the years he'd lived in Immanion. The irritating coziness of newfound harmony among the Aralisians must surely now be shattered. Abrimel could not even bring himself to send a message home, offering condolences or support. In a deep hidden corner of his heart, he thought that perhaps Caeru might come to him now, full of tears and regret, seeking his one true son. In this fantasy, Abrimel and Caeru ran away from everything Gelaming and forged a new life together, more to Abrimel's liking. But no message came from the Tigrina and certainly no personal visit. Abrimel, enmeshed in his own feelings, did not for one moment consider that Caeru was actually lying in an infirmary bed taking far too long to heal. He imagined that his hostling was drooping and weeping around Phaonica, mourning the loss of a son who Pellaz would have not only accepted but also loved. As the days passed, this thought became more real in Abrimel's mind and heart. He and Caeru should never have gone to Immanion in the first place. If Caeru hadn't been so stupid and besotted, they would have had a different, wonderful life together. Furious, Abrimel decided that he no longer had a hostling or a father. He cast the pair of them off like dead skin.

  The power of coincidence is very powerful indeed. It slips like oil through the dense, multi-layered fabric of reality and wherever it finds a chink, it slithers through. The slithering, in this instance, belonged to Diablo of Gebaddon, who flopped out of the otherlanes, covered in a dark viscous fluid and barely in possession of his sanity, into the tall grasses at the edge of a spinney in a field near Imbrilim. The higher powers of the universe, which are perhaps often bored or have a dark sense of humour, make it happen that Abrimel was walking in the fields, lost in gloomy thoughts, at the very moment this event occurred. `He felt a shiver in his flesh that jolted him out of his reverie and glanced up from his study of the ground, expecting to see an otherlanes portal closing above him. There was an eerie shimmer to the reddening evening sky, but nothing more. It faded so quickly, Abrimel wondered whether he'd imagined it. For some moments, he continued his walk, tearing dead seed heads from the grass around him, wondering what he should do with his life and whether he had the motivation or stamina to change things. The darkness of the trees ahead appeared inviting and he had a desire to walk into it. Peace could be found in the landscape. It was so empty, yet even as he thought this, he knew that behind him Imbrilim was expanding outward like a disease, as human conurbations had done in earlier times, and would no doubt eventually smother all that was beautiful and free in nature. Abrimel's momentary disgust with his own kind was pure and fierce. He saw all hara as posturing effete fools, animated dolls that acted out lives in the manner that humankind had once lived. But they were not real. They were an aberration. This kind of thinking was common in the most damaged of first generation hara, but less so in pure born Wraeththu. Perhaps it was these pessimistic thoughts that drew Diablo, beaten and robbed of his spoils, to be expelled from the otherlanes in that spot, at that time.

  Entering among the trees, Abrimel heard rustling, which at first he took to be the early scurryings of a nocturnal creature, but this was followed by a pitiful sound that did not sound animal at all. The light amid the tall sombre trunks was dim: beyond them the sky was a deep red. It was moments before the sun sank beneath the horizon. Abrimel picked up a stout fallen branch and began to poke around among the yellow grasses and bare brambles that leaned this way and that in a tangle about him. Eventually, he came upon Diablo, who was lying in a shuddering heap beneath a tree, where he'd managed to crawl before collapsing.

  Abrimel observed this quivering mass for some moments, unsure whether it was an animal or a human refugee. It didn't appear harish to him, because he'd never beheld a har in such a state. He poked it with the branch and it jerked and moaned. He saw limbs moving feebly, a flash of pale face through a cage of protective fingers.

  Abrimel pulled aside the grasses and brambles, scratching his hands quite badly in the process. Acting on instinct rather than through compassion, he dragged the body out into the field by its feet and then stood over it to examine what he'd unearthed. He saw an emaciated creature, clad in dark clothes that appeared to be rags tied around its body in complicated knots. He could tell at once it wasn't human, but neither did it appear completely har. It was a goblin of a creature, one moment moaning in apparent pain, the next hissing in a clearly defensive manner. It was pathetic, utterly repellent, but also intriguing, simply because Abrimel was perplexed as to what it was. It was his job, after all, to catalogue Wraeththu tribes in Megalithica, where some extremely interesting permutations had already been discovered. Abrimel had never seen a har like this, if indeed it was a har, and not some elemental creature that had somehow been trapped in a corporeal form. Whatever miserable thoughts had previously occupied his mind, he was in truth fanatical about his work; the sight of this strange being shouldered aside his gloom and kindled his professional curiosity. It looked as if it might die soon, so Abrimel was eager to transport it back to Imbrilim in order to study it properly. It weighed very little, so he was able to hoist it over his shoulder quite easily. It smelled bad, like old musty hay.

  Most inhabitants of Imbrilim were in their dwellings, eating their evening meals, as Abrimel crept along a newly paved street to his house. He passed one or two hara, who paid him little attention, as they were absorbed in their own conversations. He looked as if he was carrying a sack over his shoulder, so it was hardly a sight worth investigating. He entered his home through the rear entrance and went directly to his study, where he dropped his burden onto a couch. The creature opened its eyes, which were unnervingly large and dark, indeed quite beautiful. It growled at Abrimel. Abrimel was not afraid. He was strong and had interviewed some particularly intransigent Uigenna during his work. He had learned long ago how to defend himself. “What are you?” he asked. He did not expect a response and went to pour a measure of fiery sheh into a glass, which he then offered to the creature on the couch. It snatched the glass from Abrimel's hands, drank the contents noisily, then crushed the glass in its long twiggy fingers, discarding the bits onto the carpet with an oddly flamboyant gesture. Abrimel wondered whether it was, in fact, dying after all.

  “Are you har?” Abrimel asked. “Can you speak?”

  The creature maintained a low throaty growl, much as a frightened feral cat might utter.

  “I will not harm you,” Abrimel said. “You are safe here.”

  The creature appeared mindless. Abrimel thought he might have to have it locked up, because there was no way he'd allow it to remain unsupervised in his house throughout the night.

  “I will give you one last chance,” he said, in a clear slow voice. “If you can communicate, then do so now, otherwise I shall have you taken away by the town guards. Do you understand? If you co-operate I will feed you and give you a place to stay for the night. You have nothing to gain by being difficult.” It was a wild hope. He didn't really think he'd get a positive response, and was therefore surprised when the impish har on the couch stopped growling and nodded its head once.

  “More,” it said, holding out its hands, which were not at all cut from breaking the glass.

  At this point, the creature became 'he' r
ather than 'it' in Abrimel's view. He saw in those huge eyes a terrible suffering and empathised with it. “I am Abrimel,” he said. “Tell me your name and I'll give you another drink.”

  “Diablo.” The har said it in a sibilant, earthy way, drawing out the word, so it sounded like an invocation rather than a name.

  “Interesting,” said Abrimel. “Don't break the next glass I give you.”

  For over an hour, Abrimel watched Diablo devour vast amounts of food. He ate with surprising neatness, his movements economical yet constant, like a machine. He also appeared to have a limitless appetite and Abrimel guessed Diablo had not eaten much for a long time. Abrimel allowed his strange guest to attend to his body's needs in silence and busied himself with writing some preliminary notes on his find. He only raised his head when he became aware of being scrutinised and he physically jumped when his gaze collided with the wide-eyed stare of Diablo. Perhaps, if he was cleaned up, he wouldn't look so unnerving. His body was trembling so that the snakes of lank hair hanging over his face vibrated like wires. He might be suffering from shock.