The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure - By Storm Constantine Page 0,41

Ulaume’s knees. ‘It’s sad,’ he said. ‘Not bad.’

‘Do you learn all your words from me?’ Ulaume asked.

Lileem grimaced. ‘Shapes that say things,’ he said.

‘You’re a freak, you know,’ Ulaume said. ‘You’re too old in the head.’

Lileem grinned widely, apparently pleased with this pronouncement.

Ulaume was unsettled to think the harling had understood exactly what he’d meant. ‘Is anything in there?’ he asked.

Lileem studied the house for a moment. ‘It isn’t dead,’ he said. ‘We can go there.’

‘What else?’ Ulaume said, wondering how quickly a Wraeththu child could learn to be economical with information.

Lileem shrugged. ‘Won’t hurt us.’

Ulaume was convinced Lileem sensed something about the true nature of this place. As to why the harling wouldn’t or couldn’t voice his thoughts was intriguing.

A narrow road wound around the hill that led to the house. Although at first it had appeared to be standing in splendid isolation, as they grew nearer, Ulaume could see that behind the house were stables, outhouses and a barn. Ulaume said, ‘I’ve never seen such a big house.’

‘What’s it for?’ Lileem asked.

‘Living in,’ Ulaume replied. ‘You live there all the time, if you have a house like that.’

‘Have you ever had one?’

Ulaume laughed. ‘No. Where we come from, hara don’t have houses.’

The big front door was stuck, as if rain or tears had warped the wood. But it was partly ajar, and Ulaume could peer into the dim hallway beyond. He saw a chequered marble floor and drifts of crinkly leaves. The windows were all locked, none broken. Ulaume could hear something creaking in the wind, and thought of gibbets, but when he and Lileem rounded the corner of the house into a yard full of stables and outhouses, it was only a stable door harried by the breeze. Strands of yellow straw were caught between the cobbles, and Ulaume could imagine the clop of shod hooves against the stone. He felt strongly that he must go into the house and leaned against the back door. This was unlocked and unwarped. It swung open onto a corridor lined by kitchens and pantries. But try as he might, Ulaume could not conjure up the ghosts of quick steps, of industry and the smell of domesticity. This house had been forlorn long before what had happened recently. No screams would fly out of doorways here, because the ghosts who had always been present were silent and glum.

Lileem came into the house also and looked into the rooms. ‘It’s dark,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Ulaume agreed. And it was not because this side of the house faced away from the sun. It felt strange to be standing in a house that humans had lived in. It was like going back into ancient history or uncovering a forgotten tomb. If he blinked, none of his Wraeththu life might ever have happened. He could have been born in a place like this. Not like Lileem, with no history and no memory of all that had once been. He stared at the harling as he scampered in and out of the rooms and thought to himself, ‘It is real.’

Lileem appeared to sense something was troubling Ulaume. He ran to Ulaume’s side and gripped his legs fiercely.

‘I’ve just woken up,’ Ulaume said.

They investigated the house from top to bottom. Lileem was clearly fascinated by the moth-eaten furniture that smelled of old cologne and dust. These were arcane and puzzling objects to him, but somehow attractive.

Ulaume did not want to sleep in rooms where old beds soaked in memories mouldered in the shadows. He found a room with bare floorboards right at the top of the house, where a skylight opened to the stars. Here, he made a nest of blankets he had found folded up in a chest, scented with springs of withered sage.

Lileem watched the proceedings with a dubious expression on his face. ‘Stay here?’ he said.

‘Just for a short while,’ Ulaume answered. ‘I need to make plans. We are without a tribe and I am without all that I seek. I want to stay here.’

Lileem pursed his lips and glanced around the room. Already he had opinions, and had learned enough to keep some of them to himself.

‘We are not in danger here,’ Ulaume said.

Lileem had never slept beneath a roof before, and it had been a long time since Ulaume had been enclosed by solid walls. Neither of them felt particularly comfortable as they prepared to sleep that night, and Ulaume wondered whether they’d be better off finding a secluded corner of the garden