Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (20 page)

I made a sweeping, sardonic
gesture with my arm towards the door. He seemed to float up the
steps, which made me doubt my sanity. At this point my hold on it
was tenuous at best.

“Thiede, you’re too late.
Kithara is dead.” My voice caught in my throat.

He walked up to the couch, bent
down, and touched Kithara’s face. A golden glow issued from his
hand, passed into Kithara’s skin. In the firelight, Thiede’s hair
was indeed a glorious, coppery red. He raised his eyes. “No, the
spark of life is still within him. You gave up too easily, Janus.
You must blow on the embers and bring him back to life.”

“Well, how the fuck should I do
that? I must say Thiede, now that you’re here, I have a notion to
give you a piece of my mind.”

He laughed. “Another time
perhaps. Have you heard the story of Snow White?”

“Yeah, and her seven dwarves.
What of it?”

“How did the Prince bring her
brought back to life after she bit the poisoned apple?”

“With a kiss?”

“Just so.”

“All I have to do is kiss
him?”

“I would be quick about it if I
were you. The candle of his spirit is nearly burned out.”

Warily, I approached. Thiede
moved away and I knelt next to Kithara, looked into that marble
face with the delicate lashes lying so still against his cheek.
With my finger I traced the perfect arch of his brows, then down
along his nose with the slight bump in the centre, to those curving
lips, so soft. He was beauty incarnate. To kiss him seemed like a
sacred act. I touched my own lips, which still felt swollen. I knew
I looked like a monster. This was surely a case of Beauty and the
Beast rather than Snow White and Prince Charming. I sighed, bent
over him and lightly touched our mouths together. It was like
kissing a corpse.

“Don’t give up,” Thiede said.
“You are stronger than you know, Janus. Give him your breath. You
are har now. You must think like one. Think magically.”

I forced Kithara’s mouth open
with mine and huffed a long, slow breath into him, along with a
fervent prayer for life. Somewhere I heard a clock ticking. I
breathed into him again.
Come on, Kithara
. Suddenly, his
back arched and he gasped in a lungful of air. I gave him my breath
again and he returned it, the sensation like inhaling choi smoke.
Now my senses seemed all mixed up. I was tasting colours and smells
and sounds: fuchsia and emerald, the fragrance of orange blossoms,
a meadowlark’s song. He opened his eyes and looked at me,
dazed.

“You’re alive!” I cried. “Oh my
god! Oh my god!” I hugged him to my chest, half dragging him off
the couch.

“Ow! Fuck Jareth, you’ll crush
me to death,” Kithara gasped.

“You deserve it. You scared me
to pieces. How is your back?”

“It hurts. Mmmmph,” he said
when I kissed him again. Our breath seemed to pour together, mixing
in the cauldron of our lungs into some kind of crazy flavour that
just got tastier and better. I felt ecstatic.

“What is that sensation?” I
asked. “Am I still drugged?”

“No,” Thiede replied, amusement
colouring his voice. “That was your first harish kiss. It’s called
sharing breath. Not too bad, huh?”

“Har? I’m Wraeththu now?” I
cried. “Is that althaia thing over? Oh, thank god!”

Thiede chuckled. “Yes, you have
nearly finished the transformation, although the effect would be
significantly improved by a bath. Now, before I send you kids off
to complete Janus’ change, I have some things to tell you.”

Painfully, Kithara wrenched
himself upright. He looked daggers at Thiede. “So you decided to
show up at the eleventh hour. I could have used your help weeks
ago, when they first captured me. I’ve been through hell, Thiede.
No thanks to you.”

“It took me a while to find out
where you were,” Thiede said mildly. “View this as a learning
experience, Kithara, something to humble that massive ego, or if
you prefer, a vision quest to obtain the higher caste you now have.
And you’ve accomplished something else of importance. You found
Janus and now you’ll bring him back to join us.”

“Did you know all this ahead of
time?”

“No, but I know it now,” Thiede
said. “Is there any wine around here?” With a rustle of garments,
he composed himself in a leather chair near the fire.

“Wine? Yes, I saw some earlier
in the pantry,” I said, feeling dazed. What was Thiede? Clearly, he
was more than Wraeththu. Was he a god? As I looked at a rack of
wine bottles, I could hear the buzz of Kithara’s voice, still
angry. “
I
have a massive ego!” he was saying. “You shithead!
You just don’t like competition.”

I had to smile. Was this how we
talked to our gods? If so, I approved. I selected a bottle and then
went hunting for a corkscrew.

Thiede’s words weren’t audible
but they sounded soothing. The exchange went on for a while until
Kithara’s angry tone quieted. Then Thiede called, “Janus, is there
anything to eat in there? Kithara is hungry.”

My stomach woke up and snarled.
I realized that I was starving too. It had been days since I’d kept
anything down. Fortunately, the larder seemed well stocked. I
opened up two cans of soup that I set simmering on the stove.

When I returned with wine and
three glasses, I found Thiede sitting on the couch with Kithara
lying stretched out, his head resting in Thiede’s lap. Kithara’s
eyes were closed and he looked quietly content while Thiede fondly
stroked his hair as if he was a cat. I felt a flare of jealousy.
Thiede’s elite, indeed. Were they lovers? Sounds buzzed in my head,
as if they were speaking to each other on a channel that I couldn’t
hear.

Feeling like an intruder, I set
down the wine. “Excuse me. I think I’ll clean up this mess.” I
pulled the disgusting shower curtain along the floor, out the back
door, and dumped it in the yard, figuring that would be enough for
now, I’d clean it in the morning. I couldn’t think ahead any
further than that. I looked at the forest in the spectral light,
feeling a strange sense of well-being as if I was pulling energy
from the earth up into my body. With considerable trepidation, I
looked down at myself, nearly naked, wearing only my grimy, stained
briefs. My arms and legs appeared normal to me, pale in the
moonlight. No sign of the ravages of althaia. I looked at my left
arm. The burn was gone. Gone! I felt my face. Both sides felt
normal. I couldn’t detect the rough ridges of the burn, although
that side seemed a little tender. I flew into the house and ran to
the bathroom. With eyes as big as boiled eggs, I stared at myself
in the mirror.

It was a fucking miracle!

My face was whole again! More
than whole. It was exquisite! This couldn’t possibly be me! I was
so used to seeing the hideous burn that I hardly noticed my good
side. Now it was as if some ideal version of that unburned side had
taken over my whole face so that even though I looked like myself,
I was a stranger to my own eyes. I had become one of those boys I
used to pine after in the zines - a mix of masculine angularity and
wide-eyed, full-lipped feminine softness. My skin glowed as if I’d
been out in the wind, especially on the burned side. When I turned
my face to the left, the only remnant of the burn was a thick,
silvery scar slashed across my cheek where the bone used to be
visible. It gave me a dashing look as if I’d been in a swordfight.
My eyes were the same elongated almond shape with their fringe of
dark lashes, but now the colour had intensified from hazel to a
brilliant emerald green. This couldn’t be me, could it? Was I
dreaming?

Thiede was right. I seriously
needed a shower. I was covered in dirt and blood and my dark hair
was greasy with whatever nasty stuff my body had exuded. That alone
convinced me this wasn’t a hallucination. I grabbed soap and a
washcloth and cleaned up the worst of it. All the while, I kept
turning this way and that, probing the burned side with my fingers
and marvelling at how supple and smooth it felt compared to the
rigid, pitted mess it had been. If only I had known, I would have
sought out the Wraeththu long ago.

Then I heard Thiede’s voice
speaking in my head. You can admire yourself all you want later,
Janus. I have something to tell you before I depart. I can’t
maintain this too much longer.

Maintain this? Now what was he
talking about? I came out into the living room to see Thiede seated
in the leather chair opposite Kithara.

“Enter a new har!” Thiede said
flinging his arms out in a grand gesture. He winked at Kithara.
“Now tell me, Kithara, that you regret this little adventure.”

Kithara was staring at me,
open-mouthed. “Wow,” he said. “Shit, Jareth, you’re, well,
‘stunning’ doesn’t do it justice.”

A tingling wave of pleasure
surged through me, settling in my loins. I hadn’t had the nerve to
look down there yet. Wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Come have some soup, Janus,”
Thiede said. “Both of you need to take it easy for a while. I want
you to eat and gain strength.”

“Yes, mother,” Kithara
said.

I sat down on the couch next to
Kithara, who handed me a steaming bowl of soup. Thiede cradled a
wine glass in one hand, looking at us much as a sculptor might
admire his latest creation. “I always enjoy watching the birth of a
new har,” he said. “It gets me right here.” He thumped his chest
with the side of his fist. A log shifted, throwing sparks.

“Tell him,” Kithara said.

I looked at both their faces.
Kithara’s eyes flicked away guiltily. Thiede crossed his legs and
settled himself. “Well, Janus, as you know, we are a new race and
do not yet understand the extent and limits of our powers. We’ve
learned a great deal, but there is so much more to know. A good
strategist must know his capabilities. We must go cautiously and
test, experiment. It is unfortunate but inevitable that some may
get hurt in the course of this self-discovery.”

“What has this got to do with
me?” I asked. This sounded suspiciously like some kind of
justification for atrocity. I sipped a spoonful of the soup,
vegetable beef. It was the most delicious thing I’d eaten in
forever. Not standing on ceremony, I tipped up the bowl and drank
it down. I could feel strength flowing into my body.

Thiede tapped lacquered nails
on the arm of the chair. “This is about your parents and your
disfigurement, Janus. I feel that you should know the truth, even
if you hate us for it. Only then can you complete the healing
process. So here it is. Initially through accident and then by
experimentation, we discovered that our blood could transform young
men into Wraeththu. We found that it didn’t work on women or older
men. That knowledge came painfully. We didn’t know how young we
could incept a boy. We didn’t know much at all. We still don’t. My
acolytes spent much time searching for those with potential to
improve our stock. One day in a park, I saw you and your brother
and sensed that you both were special with the potential to develop
occult powers, so we came in the night to take you.”

“My brother, Jordan? Is he
alive?”

“Yes. His name is Arahal now,”
Thiede said. “If Kithara is my left hand, Arahal is my right.”
Kithara nodded at that.

I sat up suddenly. This was
extraordinary news. “Can I see him?”

Thiede smiled. “If you come
back to Carmine City, most assuredly.”

“And what of my parents?” I
asked.

“I’m sorry, Janus. They
perished in the fire.”

“So, there
was
a
fire?”

“Yes, not intentional on our
part and it wasn’t what affected you. We succeeded in capturing you
along with your brother, but there was a gun battle with the police
and I was hit in the arm causing blood to spray on you.” He pulled
up a sleeve revealing some thick white scars on his upper arm. “My
blood has, shall we say, rather unusual properties. You lost
consciousness. In the confusion, we thought you were dead. My
error, Janus. We were outnumbered and had to run. It was only years
later that I learned you had lived. Apparently, your body had begun
althaia, but your system didn’t absorb enough blood to complete the
transformation. Instead the althaia was arrested at a preliminary
stage, making it appear as if you had been burned. An interesting
result and not something I would have anticipated.”

“Shit,” I said, stunned. Memory
began to return, in terrifying bits. A tall figure pulling me along
as we ran. The cracking reverberation of gunfire. A sudden splatter
of liquid scorching my body. Screaming. Shadows filled with flames.
Waking to hear a solemn white-coated doctor explaining that my
parents were dead and that I would carry burn scars for life. I
ground my teeth. “You left me for dead? But then once you found out
what happened, why didn’t you come and finish the process?”

Thiede shrugged. “Other
priorities intervened, and in any case it would have been a risky
venture. I figured we’d bide our time. Perhaps it was a good thing
in the long run, although it may not appear that way to you. Like a
sword, you’ve been tempered in the fire of adversity. You do not
yet know your own strength, Janus, but I’ve been following your
flight from the circus. You’ve done well. You will make a fine
addition to our tribe, if you choose to join us.”

“Do I have a choice?” I
growled. “And why are you calling me by my stage name?”

Thiede smiled. “Our souls
progress in power by choosing a path through life’s thorns. Whether
or not the choice is real or illusory is a philosophical issue.
Does the butterfly’s wingbeat change the future? For myself, I
prefer to think of it as playing chess with the universe. As for
your name, when we complete the transition to Wraeththu, we usually
take on new names as a symbol of rebirth. In your case, the name
Janus is appropriate. The reason why is something you must work out
for yourself. Welcome to your new life, Janus. I expect great
things from you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run. Come
and share breath with me before I go.”