kin to Ulaume than he was to Pellaz, and also unreachable. Ulaume now felt annoyed with himself that he’d allowed these hara to affect him. Weakness, weakness, and he’d believed it to be strength. He felt as if he’d had his wrist spiritually slapped and that was a humiliating sensation. The universe had told him emphatically that, in some way, his destiny was linked with Pell’s, but how could that be? How could he be linked to a dead har? How could so shining a har, in fact, be dead? He was too vital, too alive, too… special. Ulaume ground his teeth. He didn’t like having to admit that. He didn’t like having to admit that the curse would have involved asking Hubisag to send Pellaz back to the Kakkahaar, so Ulaume could exact his own revenge, the result of which, in Ulaume’s dreams, was Pell’s submission. It would never happen now.
Ulaume punched the hard cold ground and said aloud, ‘Show yourself to me, shining spirit. Tell what it is you tried to convey. I am open to your manifestation. Speak to me.’
Nothing answered, but in the distance a coyote yipped up at the last stars in the sky. Ulaume sighed heavily. There were no answers out here. Perhaps there would never be answers.
He returned to the camp, where the last stragglers from the festival were slouching back to their pavilions, yawning and belching and supporting each other. A few lewd songs could still be heard inside the tents. Ulaume felt depressed by it all. These stupid creatures hadn’t realised something of importance had happened. They had abandoned themselves to wild excess and today they’d readjust their masks into those of restrained shamanic adepts, believing they knew all the mysteries of life and death, when in fact they knew nothing.
Lianvis was still awake, drinking coffee in the main salon of his pavilion. Ulaume was annoyed to see he had company, a high-ranking har of the tribe named Rarn. Ulaume really needed to talk to Lianvis alone, and thought that Lianvis would have known this.
‘Good news,’ Lianvis said, when he noticed Ulaume skulking among the draperies. ‘Last night, Rarn’s consort delivered a pearl.’
Ulaume grunted. To him, that was of no importance. There were more pressing matters to discuss.
‘Perhaps this was what your trance indicated,’ Lianvis said.
‘I hardly think so,’ Ulaume snapped. ‘I saw death, not birth.’
Rarn shifted uncomfortably on the cushions.
‘Yes,’ Lianvis said. ‘We must speak of this. You told me somehar was dead. Who?’
Ulaume struggled with the anger that rose within him. Lianvis sounded as if he was enquiring about a ridiculous piece of gossip. He was clearly so pleased about the pearl, he had forgotten the enormity of last night’s events, the pressure in the air, the feeling of power all around them. He didn’t even seem concerned about where Ulaume had been all night. ‘No har in particular,’ Ulaume said. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Today, we must celebrate,’ Lianvis said. ‘Our tribe has taken a great step forward.’
‘Congratulations,’ Ulaume said spitefully to Rarn.
‘We know now that this is something we can all achieve,’ Lianvis said carefully, appraising Ulaume with a steady eye. ‘We can create our own pearl.’
Ulaume nearly choked. Lianvis thought his waspishness was because he felt jealous of Rarn’s consort. ‘It isn’t something I’ve thought about,’ he said. ‘It’s not my role in life.’
‘Surely, it is everyhar’s,’ Lianvis said, and now he sounded stern.
Ulaume slumped wearily inside. So, Lianvis wanted sons. This was the last thing Ulaume could think about. ‘Whatever you want,’ he said. ‘I need to sleep now.’
He left the room and once the drapes fell behind him, he could hear Lianvis speaking quietly to Rarn. Ulaume realised he’d received another message from the universe. Whatever had happened, or was happening, to him, he must deal with it alone.
Unfortunately, the universe was not very forthcoming about what Ulaume should actually do. Most nights, he awoke from disturbing dreams, of which he could not remember the details. He woke with a taste of metal in his mouth and a strong desire to leap up and run somewhere. But where? The rest of the tribe, including Lianvis, appeared to forget there had been anything unusual about the night of the festival: Herien’s pearl wholly consumed their attention. It was as if they believed that no other Wraeththu had ever succeeded at procreation, although Ulaume knew this was not the truth. The tribe would not move on until the pearl had delivered up its treasure and Ulaume felt so