learned a lesson.’
Lileem glanced at the bundle on the floor. ‘You brought her here… Is she ill? What happened?’
‘There is something wrong with her, certainly.’ Ulaume stretched languorously: his limbs were stiff. ‘Perhaps you are not as different from me as we thought.’
Lileem frowned. ‘What?’
‘We will have to wait and see,’ Ulaume said, ‘but I have an idea of what’s wrong with her.’
For three days, as in a normal althaia, the girl writhed and screeched beneath her blankets. She ran a high fever and her skin was flaking and sore. Ulaume did what he could for her. She was like a wild creature, a bundle of defensive instincts. When she’d been vicious with him before, he’d hated her, but now could feel only pity. Also, she was beautiful in the way a wolf is beautiful: unapproachable, best admired from afar. He smoothed her tangled hair and bathed her face with cold water. She didn’t know he was there. Sometimes, among her animal noises, he thought he heard her whispering Pell’s name, but he couldn’t be sure.
Twice, Ulaume woke in the morning to find damage had been done to the garden outside and yet he never heard anything during the night. He remembered what he’d seen in the Cevarro house and told Lileem not to stray. The girl might have been his only protection from whatever roamed out there.
On the evening of the third day, the girl’s fever abated and she slept easily. Whatever had happened to her was over, but Ulaume had no idea what he should do next, if anything. A Wraeththu har’s inception was consummated by aruna, but there was no one to do that for the girl. He certainly wouldn’t, or couldn’t, himself. She was not har. She was something else and it was as if his sexual senses couldn’t recognise her.
Lileem had found some old board games, only partly chewed by mice, and sat at the kitchen table making up new rules for how to play them. Ulaume sat reading a book on chickens. He heard the girl moan and put down his book. She had rolled onto her back and cast off the blankets, one forearm pressed against her eyes. Ulaume stood up. This was the moment he’d both dreaded and looked forward to with curiosity.
‘Can you understand me, girl?’ he said.
For some moments, she did not lower her arm, but when she did her eyes were black and furious and terrified. She glanced around, clearly still too weak to move, but even so seeking an avenue of escape.
‘We mean you no harm,’ Ulaume said, which even to him sounded unconvincing. ‘I am a friend of Pellaz Cevarro. You know him?’
‘He’s dead,’ she croaked, her voice sounding rusty with disuse.
‘Not any more – apparently,’ Ulaume answered, ‘but then, I’m not sure. He has spoken to me here. You are his sister, yes?’
‘There’s nothing left for you here,’ the girl rasped. ‘Go.’
‘I am not here to take anything,’ Ulaume said. ‘I came here only looking for sanctuary for myself and Lileem, the harling – the child. We are alone. I am not a warrior. I don’t even have a tribe, but I knew your brother.’
‘I have no brothers,’ she said, ‘only monsters. They are gone.’
Ulaume drew a deep breath. ‘A har called Cal brought Pellaz to my tribe. Pell had been incepted to Wraeththu at another settlement. He came to us for training.’
The girl turned onto her side and put her hands over her ears.
Ulaume sighed deeply. ‘You are right. He is no longer your brother. He cast off all that he was the moment he became Wraeththu. There is no point in talking about it.’
He turned to Lileem who was sitting absolutely still, no doubt taking in every word. ‘Ask your friend if she wishes to eat. You can prepare something for her.’
‘Child stealer!’ hissed the girl, still with her back to him.
‘I did not steal Lileem,’ Ulaume said coldly. ‘He is not human, whatever you think. He was born of Wraeththu and is as much your enemy as I am. His blood poisoned you.’ He did not wait for a reply but left the room.
Outside, in the murmuring garden, he took deep breaths to calm himself. He must not let this human affect him, if indeed she was still human. Creatures stalked this place and none of them were normal. He’d seen something vile in the Cevarro house and he must find out what it was. The girl had spoken of monsters. He had