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  Cal laughed sadly. "That's ironic. I said that to him too."

  "You might be binding over a wound. In that, you will be doing me a service."

  "You know he still loves you, don't you? It shocks me how much."

  "He will say that to you, because to say otherwise would show him in a bad light."

  "You're wrong. I think you've misjudged him. When I first came here, the three of us stood together in the Hegalion, united. I thought that would be the beginning of strength. We need it. All of us. And love is strength."

  "In the Hegalion, I got carried away with the moment," Pell said. "I wish I could maintain it, Cal, but I can't. Too much has happened. It is difficult to misjudge somehar for over twenty odd years. You forget that life went on for me while we were apart."

  "Please think about it."

  "You be for Rue what I cannot. I'm generous enough to concede that."

  "It means nothing without you."

  Pellaz rose from the bed and went to his wardrobe, discarding towels along the way. "Perhaps you should be more concerned about your son. I've spoken with Swift and Cobweb about him." He pulled out some clothes and dressed himself. "We think Tyson should come to Immanion, but I predict it won't be easy for you."

  Cal put his hands behind his head, stared at the ceiling. "I haven't seen him since he was a tiny harling. It doesn't feel real. I remember going through it all, but now..."

  "Difficult to imagine he sprang from you. The thought of you and Terzian together hurts more than anything Rue could do. You were making pearls with the Varr while I was almost senseless with grief over losing you. That's bizarre."

  Cal's tone was defensive. "I can barely remember what Terzian looks like. I thought you were dead."

  Pell laughed awkwardly, in an attempt to lift the atmosphere. "We don't have to discuss this. It's history. After all, I did the same thing with Rue. Let's drop it."

  Cal, clearly, didn't want to drop it. "Grief over you did terrible things to me too. I was out of my mind. Tyson sprang from that, if anything. I'm not sure I want to go back to that dark place. Do I really have to see him?"

  "He's yours, Cal, and none of what happened was his fault. I have an abysmal relationship with my own son, and it's not something I'd recommend. Build bridges."

  "Then you do the same."

  Pell closed the wardrobe doors carefully. "What's on the agenda for today? I doubt I'm allowed the luxury of rest after my journey."

  "Later this afternoon, an audience in the Hegalion with delegates from various tribes, all wanting Gelaming aid. It's not essential you're present for that, as both Vaysh and I have been vague about your return time from Galhea. This evening, you're booked for the caste ascension of some high-ranking young har in the High Nayati. You offered to officiate last week, when you were drunk at that party, remember? The parents have requested, most humbly, that the Aralisians turn out in force."

  "Damn. Oh well. Let the unholy Trinity of Tigrons and Tigrina do their worst. I'll pass on the delegates, though. Will you handle it?"

  Cal jumped up from the bed and wrapped Pell in his arms. "It's part of what I'm here for, isn't it? To take on some of the burden."

  Pellaz was assailed by a poignant image of Thiede that was accompanied by a pang of loss. He pushed both image and feeling away and held Cal close. "Eat with me now. I'll tell you the horrors of Galhea."

  Pellaz usually enjoyed conducting caste ascensions, but that night his mind was elsewhere. He noticed that Caeru seemed to be aware of his distraction, because the Tigrina took over most of the officiating. Pellaz was so accustomed to not feeling grateful for anything Caeru did, he was quite shocked to discover this had changed. More than that had changed. Pellaz no longer sensed the hungry, desperate and often vicious need that normally oozed from Caeru like the essence of disease. He even smelled different. Caeru raised his arms to channel energy, and thereby raise the initiate from Neoma to Brynie level. For a moment he transformed into a skinny young har with ragged yellow hair and artfully ripped clothes. Pellaz could almost smell the perfume of a night, 30 years ago. Was Cal working some subtle magic? But there were more disorienting things to consider. As the ceremony progressed, Pell's mind kept flashing back to the otherlanes journey, and the black entity that had accosted him there. Sometimes, it felt as if that presence was still with him, tainting the sacred atmosphere of the High Nayati. Shadows pressed close and the vaulted ceiling was lost in darkness. Unearthly creatures might cluster there, whispering together.

  Cal and Caeru intoned the words of the ceremony and the young har they initiated knelt before them, while Pellaz fought a battle with the demons of his imagination. He remembered the words that Cobweb had said to him, the mention of Dorado. Cobweb had implied Pellaz needed help: as usual, he'd concealed more than he'd revealed, but that was the way of seers. For the first time in years, Pellaz felt young and powerless. He did not have enough information, certainly not enough to feel secure, and had no wise har to go to for advice and assurance. Despite Cobweb's warning, he found himself thinking of Opalexian. He wanted to speak to her.

  The ceremony concluded, and the newly elevated har went home to celebrate with his proud parents. Tentatively, Caeru asked Cal and Pellaz if they'd like to come back to his apartment for supper. Cal did not answer, but directed his attention to Pellaz, who felt himself consenting, simply because the thought of being alone was too unsettling. All of Pell's senses were heightened.

  Before they left the High Nayati, Pellaz went alone to the shrine of the Aghama, Wraeththu's prime deity. Here, a bronze image of Thiede was lit by the soft glow of candlelight. Pellaz cast some grains of incense over the flame that eternally burned there. The perfumed smoke rolled over him. He prayed to Thiede for guidance, and perhaps there was a sense of a tall presence behind him, the ghost of a hand on his shoulder.

  You are Tigron, said a voice in his head. Take control.

  "I need you. There are cracks in the world."

  Fight darkness with light. Fight light with darkness.

  Pellaz sighed deeply. For so long, everyhar had believed that Thiede had influenced everything that happened to Wraeththu. He was their progenitor and their god. But he had also been a har of flesh and blood, and Pellaz could not believe one individual could have controlled so much. Had he forced Pellaz to create a pearl with Caeru against his better judgement? Had he influenced all that had happened to Cal? If it were true, then surely Pellaz would have sensed it in some way. He saw his own life as a pageant, parading across his mind's eye. Historic events, deep passions, betrayals, victories. If Thiede was not the greater power, then what was?

  A candle hissed in its own wax on the altar and Pellaz opened his eyes.

  Now you begin to see...

  "Speak to me."

  A pearl of light, the star of all stars... unexpected.

  Pellaz held his breath. Dare he believe the words he heard in his mind came from anywhere but his own dreams and desires?

  Do what is not expected of you...

  "How can I find you?"

  In the star...

  On his terrace in Phaonica, Caeru's behaviour was cool but cordial. He clearly made a point of not sitting too close to Cal, and asked Pellaz for news of Galhea. Pellaz found it fairly easy to play the game and offer up the gossip, but he did not tell his companions anything about the things that concerned him. He felt slighted outsider, but strangely, this did not distress him. He could see plainly how disoriented Cal felt being in Immanion and how Caeru could ground him in a way that Pellaz could not. There was really only one Tigron. Pellaz smiled, drank a little wine, and heard himself chatting amicably, but inside he was saying to himself: we were mad to think we could ever have it back, Cal. I died, and what we had died with me. What we have now is a revenant; lurching, damaged and undead. How could we have been so stupid to cling to a dream for so long?

  He realized he loved Cal more than he ever had, but it was not the consuming passion of youth that had sustained h
is dreams over the years. It was not as hot and urgent; it was deeper, more real.

  The time came when Pellaz knew he could leave without giving offence They had gone indoors because the air on the terrace had cooled. He could leave, because it was expected of him. He had made a concession in visiting the Tigrina's apartment and this would be regarded as a first step. He would return to his own rooms, either with Cal were alone, and he would become resentful of being manipulated. He would remember everything that made him angry, and the cycle would begin again. He could see himself walking out of the door, inclining his head in a formal farewell. It would be so easy, and he yearned for it.

  "I could do with another drink," he said. "Have we exhausted your stocks, Rue?"

  "No... I'll see to it." Caeru left the room in a hurry, clearly surprised.

  Pellaz sat down in a chair. He felt light-headed, as if he'd summoned up strong and capricious energy.

  "What are you up to?" Cal asked.

  "I'm tired," Pellaz said, "very tired. I love you and I want what's best for you."

  "Was the matter?" Cal squatted beside Pell's chair. "You look... odd, and what you just said sounded worryingly final."

  "I'm not going anywhere," Pellaz said. He reached out and stroked Cal's face. It was still difficult to believe Cal was here in Immanion. It didn't feel real, after so many years of longing in fantasy. But it was one of only two possible conclusions to their passion: reunion or death. Who or what had decided upon the happier resolution?

  Stop thinking this way, Pellaz told himself.

  Caeru came back into the room with wine and paused when he caught sight of Cal by Pell's chair.

  "Something's not right with Pell," Cal said, standing up.

  Pellaz said nothing. It was pointless to lie.

  "It's me," Caeru said. "Isn't it?"

  Pellaz closed his eyes briefly. "No, it isn't. Come here. Stand before me."

  Caeru put down the wine on a table and approached Pellaz warily.

  "I want to look at you," Pellaz said, "and remember a night in Ferelithia, a long time ago."

  "Don't," Caeru said, shaking his head.

  "I know, it will be difficult. We are so entrenched in our beliefs. Do you really still love me, Rue?"

  “You are different tonight. Cal has spoken to you, hasn't he?”

  “You know he has. You know what he wants. But it's our decision, Rue. The truth. No masks. You know why I feel the way I do about you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has it ever been justified?”

  “It just is.” Caeru picked up the wine again and swigged from the bottle. “Despite that, seeing as you asked, and you never have before, I do still love you.”

  Pellaz steepled his fingers beneath his chin, conscious it was a gesture Thiede often used to make. “You think you do. You're supposed to. It's all part of the Aralisian myth. But only a mad har would still care for me after all I've said and done. Are you mad, Rue?”

  “Pell, let's not do this,” Caeru said. “It's too painful.”

  “Is it because of the way I look? Are you simply infatuated with that? It's an explanation, isn't it?”

  “Maybe I just have a good memory.”

  “How reliable is that? Can you really remember what we said to one other, or what I was like?”

  “Yes,” Caeru said. “I can. You changed my life. I didn't want you to be Tigron. I wanted you to be a normal har. When I found out what you were, it gutted me, made me physically ill. It was a presentiment, because I knew what would follow, yet still I came to find you.”

  “Romantic,” Pellaz, “tragic. A good story.”

  Caeru uttered an angry sound, took another drink. “Why am I bothering with this? You're just being you, as always.”

  “No,” Pellaz said. “I'm beginning to see, really see.”

  “You sound drunk. Go home. Take Cal with you.”

  Pellaz stood up and Caeru backed away. “No,” Pell said, “I want to go back there, to that night in Ferelithia. I have to understand why it happened, why everything after it happened. We have to go back.”

  “It's impossible.”

  “No, it isn't.” Pellaz turned to Cal. “Help me here. You understand what I'm saying, don't you?”

  “I think we should go further back, to the moment I saw you die,” he said. “That is impossible.”

  Pellaz began to pace around the room. “I don't know,” he said. He did feel drunk, which was odd because he'd only had a couple of glasses of wine. He felt he was very close to seeing through an illusion, that at any moment everything around him would shatter and a different place would be revealed. “I think I'm onto something.” He stopped pacing. “Cal, you want the three of us to be together, don't you?”

  Call shrugged awkwardly. “It would be...” He paused and shook his head. “No, not at the moment. You are being too weird.”

  “Well, I think we're supposed to be together,” Pellaz said, “but we're supposed to go into it blind, without awareness. I'm supposed to regret being with Rue again, as I have all the other time.”

  “Other times?” Cal said.

  “Yes,” Pellaz replied. “He's not told you about that, then. It's a sordid little cycle we have, and one that could so easily continue. The whole situation could implode, destroy us, move us on to the next tragedy. But if we approach this union with our eyes open, it might be different. I have to recapture a feeling, change what is.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” Caeru said. “You're not making sense.”

  “It doesn't matter.” Pellaz paused.

  There is was: the threshold. He could see it. He had the power to make a choice and he'd stepped outside of himself to do it. Perhaps Thiede had helped, perhaps not. But one thing Pellaz was sure of: for this moment, he was in control. Beyond the threshold, might lie madness or danger, self-loathing in the morning, or nothing at all, but at least he could see the possibilities and it was his choice whether to step over that threshold or not. He took a deep breath. “I'm going to your bedroom, Rue. Join me in a few minutes. Don't say anything. Just be Tigrina, as I will be Tigron. Cal, come to us a short while after that.”

  Pellaz didn't wait to hear Caeru's protests, but left the room. He knew the way to the bed chamber because, on many occasions over the years, driven by drink and maudlin sentiment, he had visited his consort there and had cruelly taken aruna with him, only to ignore him for weeks afterwards. He remembered well the bleak bitter mornings of self-recrimination and disgust. He had believed his motive had been to wound and damage, to make sure Caeru never got too comfortable or too happy, but now he realised there had been true desire, released by wine: a secret, unacknowledged yearning to seek the essence of the night when Abrimel had been conceived.

  Pellaz paused at the door and had to lean upon the frame for a moment. He never drank alcohol now when he was alone, because when he did, the risk was there. When that happened, and he was drawn to Caeru's door, did it reflect his true feelings or simply an unwise delusion conjured by drink? Whatever the reason, these revelations were shocking. Pellaz felt physically sick, which was almost enough to send him fleeing for his private rooms, but he strengthened his resolve. He had to find out the truth.

  The room was decorated in dark crimson and gold, a sensual nest, but Pellaz knew that Caeru invited few hara there. An air of desolation hung amid the motionless drapes and in the aura of the lamps. Pellaz undressed and lay on his back on the bed, staring up at the shadows. He felt driven and sure, mainly because he sensed this wasn't supposed to happen, not in the way he intended it would. He closed his eyes, and summoned the past, smelled it, let it envelop his being.

  He sensed Caeru come into the room, but did not open his eyes. Perhaps that pressure on the bed wasn't Caeru at all, but an unseen creature that had seeped through from the otherlanes and had followed him home. He focused his thoughts: Ferelithia. Music. The smell of the sea. An open window on the night. He remembered the darkness of Rue's ro
om, the aroma of anticipation and desire in the air. What had soured that?

  Caeru squatted over Pellaz, ran a hand down his chest. Pellaz could feel his gaze as warm energy. This was Caeru's own moment of choice and decision. He could take some small revenge very easily now, but instead, he uttered a soft sound and lowered himself slowly onto Pell's ouana-lim. They began to move together, Pell's hands on Rue's hips. “Lie down on me,” Pellaz said.

  A jewel that hung around Caeru's neck on a silver chain pressed coldly against Pell's chest. I could have had this at any time, Pellaz thought. There was never any point to anything: how I felt, what I did. It was all worthless. It wasn't even mine. He opened his eyes. “We were controlled, do you understand?”

  “Ssh,” Caeru murmured and kissed Pell's mouth. “It's all right.”