The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure (8 page)

‘Cal doesn’t look good,’ Colt said to Seel, helping himself to some fried chicken. ‘The one har’s help he needs is Orien’s, but from what I heard today he won’t take it.’

‘We’ve got to be patient with him,’ Seel said.

‘In the old world, he’d have been locked up,’ Colt said. ‘For his own good and everyone else’s.’

Flick smiled to himself.

‘This is not the old world,’ Seel said darkly.

‘He’s sick,’ Colt said. ‘You must see that. Sick in the head.’ He tapped his own brow.

‘It’s not beyond us to heal him,’ Seel said. ‘We’re not humans, stuck in the old world. We have the ability now.’

Colt shook his head. ‘We’re not gods, Seel. For fuck’s sake, do we really know what we are?’

‘Yes, we do.’

‘I don’t think so. We’re still struggling to accept ourselves, and I think some of us go mad in the process.’

The kitchen door opened and Cal sauntered into the room. He must have heard what Colt had said, but gave no sign. Perhaps he had been listening for some time. ‘Smells good,’ he said to Flick.

‘You could do with feeding up a little,’ Flick said.

‘Orien won’t be coming,’ Seel said.

Cal grimaced. ‘Now there’s a surprise.’

‘He’s still trying to contact Thiede.’

Cal nodded. ‘Yeah, right.’

The dinner that night could hardly be termed a riotous success. Everyhar laughed too loudly and made too obvious an effort to cajole and patronise Cal. Flick could tell they were all uncomfortable with him. Most of these hara, having been incepted into northern Wraeththu tribes, had suffered losses time and again. They had watched hara close to them die, but they had also accepted that casualties of war were part of what they were and what they were trying to achieve. They couldn’t let themselves fall to pieces, and having somehar around who was literally disintegrating in front of them because a loved one had died filled them with a strange kind of fear. Flick intuited they didn’t want to go home that night and find themselves lying in the dark remembering old faces. It was almost farcical, the way that once the meal had been cleared away, everyhar around the table was clearly formulating frantic excuses to leave. Cal, presumably feeling charitable, expressed a wide yawn, and at once at least three hara were on their feet, muttering about early starts.

Seel saw guests to the door, and Flick could imagine the whispered apologies about Cal’s behaviour, which had bordered on autistic for the entire evening. Colt, along with his chesnari, Stringer, was the last to leave. Colt put his hand on Cal’s shoulder and said, ‘We can’t help you, old buddy. It’s up to you.’

Cal flicked him a cold glance. ‘There are no ‘buddies’, Colt. Not any more. We left all that behind.’

‘Yeah, well there’s a lot more you could leave behind,’ Colt said.

Stringer put on his jacket. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘See you around, Cal.’

Cal said nothing.

Flick could tell Seel was bursting to say something like, ‘You could have made an effort, Cal’, but instead he brought out his treasured bottle of old brandy, perhaps the last he would ever drink.

Seel poured out three measures and the fragrant aroma of the drink filled the room. Cal lifted his glass and said, ‘I want to sleep in our old room tonight, the one Pell and I stayed in.’

‘It’s not made up,’ Seel said, which was a lie. Cal probably knew it was. He’d have visited that room already.

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Cal said. ‘I want to sleep there.’

The room that Cal and Pell had used when they were last in Saltrock. The room where Pell had gone through althaia, the changing. The room where Cal and Pell had first taken aruna together. Seething with ghosts.

Let him,
Flick thought
. Let him wallow in this grief.

He wondered why he felt impatient with it, and why so many of Cal’s old friends did too. Grief, under the circumstances, was normal. It should be respected, accommodated for. But in Cal, it seemed weirdly like self-indulgence.

‘Flick, can you sort out the room?’ Seel asked.

Flick nodded and stood up. He’d change the bedding, root out the striped coverlet that was on it the last time. If Cal wanted ghosts, he could have them.

‘No,’ Cal said. ‘It’s fine as it is. Don’t go in there.’

Flick sat down again.

‘Perhaps you need to erase some of the memories associated with that room,’ Seel said. ‘It’s probably right that we sleep in there.’

Cal didn’t look up from the table. He was turning the brandy glass around and around. ‘I’m sleeping alone,’ he said.

‘Fine.’ Seel raked a hand through his hair. ‘Can you finish up, Flick?’

‘As always,’ Flick replied, thinking:
don’t leave me with him.

But Seel was already out of the door.

Flick started to rise from his chair, then Cal’s right hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. ‘I want to talk to
you.
’

‘Let go,’ Flick said coldly.

Cal did so. ‘You know, I think you must see and hear a lot of what goes on around here,’ he said. ‘Quiet little Flick. You must know quite a lot.’

‘Not really,’ Flick said, gathering a few glasses from the table. ‘I can’t tell you anything.’

‘Tell me about Orien.’

Flick dumped the glasses in the sink, turned on the faucet. ‘What about Orien?’

‘Where did he come from? How did Seel meet him?’

‘Seel met him while he was still with the Unneah. They came here together originally, I think.’

‘Orien’s an adept. Who trained him? Was he incepted to the Unneah?’

‘I don’t know,’ Flick said. ‘Why don’t you ask him?’

Cal uttered a bark of caustic laughter. ‘You think I’d get the truth?’

‘What I think is that Orien isn’t the sinister dark character you believe he is. Why don’t you speak to Seel about this? I don’t know anything.’

Cal stood up and came to stand behind Flick at the sink, very close. Flick could smell him: a warm spicy aroma of fresh hay. ‘I’m not sure I believe everything Seel says either,’ Cal said.

Flick could barely move. He realised, with a strange kind of detachment, that he was terrified, but there was something else... ‘You’re joking. Seel adores you.’

Cal touched the back of Flick’s head. ‘I bet you hate me for that, don’t you?’

‘Not for that particularly, no. Get your hand off me.’

‘What
do
you hate me for, then?’

The fact you can intimidate me so easily. The things I don’t know about you. The horror inside you. Your power.

Flick managed to turn round and wriggle away from the sink. ‘It’s not hate, Cal. I don’t know you, and I don’t think anyhar can. You’re freaky, that’s all, and I think you get off on unnerving others.’

Heart, slow down.

Cal laughed and folded his arms. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you?’

Utterly.
‘No. Should I be?’

‘I don’t know. I’m so full of hate I’m fairly unpredictable.’

Flick shrugged. ‘You’re nothing to do with me.’

‘You and Pell were pretty close. I’m surprised you’re not more upset.’

‘I am upset,’ Flick said. ‘I’m dealing with it in my own way. Look, just go to bed, Cal. Leave me alone.’

‘What did Pell say to you before we left Saltrock? I know he said something. I watched you together. You looked weird.’

‘Nothing,’ Flick said. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘Lies, lies,’ Cal sang. ‘What are you afraid of?’

‘OK. He asked me to find his family, that’s all. We’re not supposed to do that, are we? Wraeththu don’t have human families. We have to forget them. So I never spoke of it. Satisfied?’

‘And did you find them?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Some friend.’

‘There would have been no point. The chances are they’d have been attacked by one of the rogue tribes by that time, anyway.’

‘Possibly. It’s not that far, you know. I remember every step of the journey, every rock, every stone.’

‘Then you go,’ Flick said. ‘I’m sure they’d be delighted to see
you
again.’

‘God!’ Cal put the heels of his hands against his eyes. ‘The smell of that place. I can remember it so well. The sight of him. So beautiful. God!’

The wrong one was shot,
Flick thought.
If this was Pell here now, and Cal had been killed, he wouldn’t be like this.
‘I can’t help you,’ Flick said. ‘I think you should let it go.’

Cal lowered his hands. ‘Yeah,’ he said quietly, resignedly.

Flick watched as Cal went back to his seat and poured himself some more brandy. He looked frail, as if some kind of wild fire had died inside him.

‘You want a coffee with that?’ Flick said.

‘No. Some company would be nice though.’

Flick sat down. He might as well have another drink too. An image of Seel flashed across his mind. He’d be lying awake, dealing with being hurt. Flick sighed. ‘I wish you’d go,’ he said. ‘You’re trouble.’

Cal took a drink. ‘I
can
be nice. Pell loved me back, you know. It’s not just me.’

‘I thought you wanted to be alone tonight.’

Cal grimaced. ‘Just not with Seel. I can’t cope with all that
concern
. It drives me nuts. Now you – you’re refreshing.’

Flick thought it best to ignore that remark. ‘You do some talking,’ he said. ‘Tell me about Seel. How did you meet?’

‘When we were kids,’ Cal said. ‘He was a lot like you then. Makes sense, I suppose. Finding a younger version of himself to have around.’

‘He was never like me,’ Flick said. ‘Why say that?’

‘Why not? Do you want hear this or not?’

‘Tell me.’

It was fascinating to listen to the picture Cal created. Seel was so intrinsically Wraeththu, it was hard to imagine him as human, let alone as a child. He and Cal had lived in the same area, attended the same schools, until Cal had corrupted him enough to stop bothering. Cal would have been the wild kid, always in trouble. Flick already knew Cal came from a rich family, but it was hard to imagine. He seemed to have deprived childhood written all over him. ‘As soon as we found out about Wraeththu, I wanted to find out more,’ Cal said. ‘I wasn’t scared like most of the others. We heard they were just gangs, some weird kind of cult. I always knew it was more. Sensed it. Seel wasn’t into it at all. It was only once his mother found us together in his bed that I managed to persuade him it was our destiny. He couldn’t face the flak at home and didn’t have a choice but to come with me. I was going and he didn’t want to be left alone.’

‘You were cruel even then,’ Flick said. ‘You took advantage.’

Cal shrugged. ‘Maybe. He doesn’t regret it now though, does he?’

‘No.’ Flick put down his glass. He had drunk too much. Cal didn’t seem affected by the alcohol at all. If anything, he seemed the brightest he’d been since he’d arrived in Saltrock. He looked radiant, the har who had seduced Pellaz Cevarro away from home. Flick could remember the names of some of Pell’s family now. They came back to him, sister Mima, closest brother Terez. Already dead, no doubt. Flick rubbed at his face and Cal reached out to touch his arm. ‘Are you OK?’

Flick nodded. ‘Just tired.’

‘So what’s your story?’

‘Not now.’

His arms lay on the table and now Cal had taken one of his hands. His skin felt smooth and dry and cool.
Oh God,
Flick thought.
What have I done?

‘Nothing yet,’ said Cal.

Flick snatched away his hand. ‘Stop it. Don’t pry. Don’t play with me.’

‘Oh come on. At the very least, it would really
really
piss Seel off. At the very most, you would enjoy me immensely. Think about it. Seel treats you like a dog and there you are, the obedient little puppy, coming back with your tail wagging after every kick. He doesn’t see you for what you are, does he? He doesn’t even know you. You’re stunning, Flick. Seel’s stupid not to realise what he’s got.’

‘Shut up.’

‘It’s true, isn’t it? Even Pell noticed the way Seel treated you so dismissively. We talked about it.’ He reached out and took Flick’s hand again, and even though Flick wanted to so badly, he couldn’t pull away this time. ‘Everyhar is so full of advice for me,’ Cal said, ‘but here’s some for you. Stop being a shadow. Stand up and shine.’

Flick looked into Cal’s eyes and couldn’t think of a reply, witty or otherwise. He knew it was the truth.

‘You won’t stay here for ever,’ Cal said. ‘If you think you will, you’re wrong. Oh, it’s painful to think about. You don’t want to think about it. So don’t. Forget it. It’s what everyhar wants me to do, isn’t it?’

Flick felt as if he’d been punched in the head. He didn’t know what he felt.