My body began to fade away as the song rose within me. Behind, the rest of the whaling party stood on the lip of the ironstone cliffs and joined the chorus, a deep, rhythmic chant that had been passed down the Pùca tribe for countless generations. The familiar cold crept over me, and I smiled as I realized how I must look to the colonists watching from below: an athletic young woman, pale, save for a shock of red hair, slowly beginning to fade into luminescent green silhouette as our song echoed around the hills. High above, as had always been the way, the clouds parted and a pale blue portal tore the sky apart. The voices of the Pùca throbbed as the gods poured through the rift.
So beautiful. Even when I was a little girl, sitting safe on the village walls, I had always thought they were beautiful. A pod of ghostly green whales, massive beasts with wing-like fins and mournful songs, they swam through the air above the cliffs as they continued their eternal migration from one unknowable world to another.
The Dëithe-Mori, the God Whales. Guardian spirits of the Pùca since the earliest days of my people. When I watched them as a girl, I wondered why my elders would weep and cry when the phantom creatures flew overhead. As a grown woman, I now know.
“Lead party, prepare to fly,” I shouted, winding the words into the song as my ghostly form flickered. “I will mark the target. “Rear party, inform the colonists to ready the processing ship.”
Around me, the whaling party resonated in agreement. Feeling their song begin to lift me up, I noted the conflicted emotions harmonizing into the song; sadness, resignation. Anger.
I rose higher, leaving the ground and floating out over the grey stone cliffs. Back in the village they were watching, I knew. I turned to see an ugly black iron ship belch out a cloud of dark green smoke and shakily take off behind me, and I knew the colonizers were watching too. They had never truly understood the Pùca, even if we were useful enough to retain a few crumbs if independence. To them, my whaling party was simply “the wraiths.”
I shook my head, knowing that these thoughts were only going to drag me back down to earth. Instead I focused in the song around me, letting my spectral form slip through the eddies created by the winds off the cliff face, the rhythm of the song, and the movements of the whaling party.
Lead party! I called, not with words this time, but with music, tone and emotion. To the left! One has already begun to break away!
Launching myself upwards, I felt the lead party behind me as we flew towards to stream of ghostly deities. As the ethereal creatures dipped and beat colossal fins, a single supple form had left the pod and was winding its long body down towards us.
I heard its call. Ancient and beautiful. A song that was both light and dark, life and death. For a heartbeat my party and I paused, unable to do more than feel the creature’s emotions resonate through our song.
Then we remembered what we were here to do.
Go for the head! I sang. Kill it quickly!
Darting upwards, I slipped through pulses and currents that churned in the great beast’s wake. In my wraith form, the waves and vortexes were partially visible as shimmering ripples of blue and purple. As I approached the side of the beast I twisted, the creature’s body now flexing below me. With each beat of the colossal fins I felt the ether tremble and churn around me, and it was all I could do to stay close to the creature as my party followed in the narrow slipstream of my own flight.
Harpoon! I sang. If it had been purely in the physical world I would have been shouting. Pass it to me now!
I couldn’t risk twisting my head to look back, but as I stretched out my hand I felt a shiver of relief as one of my whalers placed a long shaft of a harpoon upon it. Holding onto my wraith form as part of my hand was forced back into the physical world was already painful enough, but as I tightened my grip around the weapon, I felt my whaling party recoil at the pale blue metal.
It was a Pùca tool, one that only we could wield – and one that should never have been forged.
My memories blurred with old hunts, and I remembered the young girl who had wept when she was given the burden of leading the whaling party.
You must do this, I had told myself, looking down shakily at the hateful metal. For the survival of the tribe, you must.
But I was no longer a girl. I swooped down through the final layers of the ether and slammed into the side of the God Whale, driving the harpoon deep into the creature’s flesh. The spectral being’s song turned into a bright scream, the force of which scattered my whaling party like falling leaves. However I held on, letting the Dëithe-Mori’s pain and sorrow wash over me. I deserved nothing less. The world span as the colossal creature thrashed, and below my feet ghostly muscles bunched in pain, trembled, then slowly began to still. As a pale blue mist began to seep out if the wound and wrap around the harpoon, I waved away the spectral blood and looked up. Sure enough, there was the black iron chain, dangling down towards me. With a well-practiced movement, I attached the links to the hook at the base of the harpoon and steadied myself as the chain pulled tight.
Letting go, I stopped for a moment to lay a hand in the smooth, soft skin beneath me.
I’m sorry, I sang, a tiny whisper. But this was necessary.
Locking my emotions away, I kicked off from the Dëithe-Mori’s corpse and flew towards the black shape hovering in a cloud of dirty green smoke above. The colonist’s airships had been their greatest strength for generations, the earliest forms of these battle vehicles using flammable gas or hot air captured in great cloth globes. However when the far-off Kingdom had learnt of the God-Whales, they realized that the sacred creatures could be it to a far more practical use than singing to the small tribal villages of the highlands.
“Good hunt! Good hunt!” cried the lean, pale men clambering about the ship as I flew through the rancid green fumes to land on the deck. “You do good, yes?”
I ignored them. The men who scrambled back and forth, putting on leather aprons and readying large flensing spades of black iron, had the same pale skin and red hair as the Pùca but none of the pale green tattoos that marked them as true-born members of the tribe. Outcast rabble who thought only of the pay they could expect as the God-Whale was winched towards the ship, their broken attempts to speak Pùca were an insult to me, even if they intended otherwise.
“Greetings, Rhona,” called a man’s voice, his Pùca smooth and fluent. “It’s always a wonder to witness your work.”
“Thank you, Benjamin,” I replied with a smile. “I’m glad the kill was quick and clean.”
“I agree. Making such a magnificent creature suffer needlessly would be cruel. The tryworks will render the flesh down within a few hours. Would you care to see the improvements I’ve made to the processing?”
I examined the earnest, middle aged colonist who ran the black iron ship that visited the Pùca once per year. Despite everything that had just happened, I couldn’t bring myself to hate the ruddy-faced, bearded figure. Perhaps it was because he had made a genuine effort over the years to learn Pùca language and understand what my tribe was forced to endure. Perhaps it was simply that we both found ourselves in the middle of this bloody enterprise and understood the weight of expectations on our collective shoulders.
“No need,” I replied, switching to the colonist’s native tongue. “Was the God-Whale big enough?”
“More than big enough. It should provide all the catalyst we need to power our fleets for another season. Have you considered the offer from the Royal Scientific expedition?”
“To record the Pùca songs on one of your strange devices? Not going to happen. Besides, the whales won’t come for a metal box mimicking noise. Our songs need emotion, soul and resolve.”
“I told them as much. The bargain will keep Kingdom soldiers out of Pùca lands but it said nothing about the legion of scholars who want to poke at both the whales and your village.”
“Let them come. All that will happen is they will wait in front of the village gates until they lose patience and leave. We’ve already made it clear we are not imparting our secrets to you.”
“Why should that be?” snapped a new voice. I span about to spot a tall, gangly man in what I assumed were expensive clothes stride over the deck towards us.
“And this is?” I asked Benjamin, raising an eyebrow.
“Earl Pakenham,” muttered the shipmaster uncomfortably. “He’s been sent here by the Duke to observe this year’s hunt.”
“Splendid show you wraiths put on,” barked the Earl. “But I take offense at your attitude, woman. Why should you deny your people the chance to better themselves by becoming a true part of the Kingdom? Your village can’t scratch away with wood and bronze forever, ay what?”
I felt the old anger immediately begin the flare up, and I did my best to control myself. But the arrogant bastard continued his tirade, nodding to a pair of retainers who emptied a box of items at my feet.
“Look at these gifts!” he continued. “Knives, axes – good Kingdom steel, every one ‘o them! And some decent blankets. Better than those furs and coarse wool your lot always wear.”
“We’ll be fine, thank you,” I growled, aware that my tattoos were beginning to glow and my skin was beginning to flicker.
“I don’t expect a savage like you to understand,” replied Pakenham. Behind him the crewmen finished securing the flickering God Whale and started work in cutting free the sail-like fins. “The Kingdom needs more airships. Look at how much fuel catalyst this tryworks can provide from just one of the beasts. Now imagine what can be done if we increase the catch to a dozen – or even more!”
As the anger writhed within me, I smelt the noxious green smoke of the ship mingling with the bright tang of the God-Whale’s flesh, and my clenched fists still felt slick with the creature’s blood.
I felt revolted. Stained. Utterly sick of it all.
“This is not part of the bargain!” I spat, uncaring now as the crewmen drew back in fright from the flickering green mist roiling off my skin. “Each year we give you one of the Dëithe-Mori – one – and you colonists leave us in peace.”
“Bargains can be altered. Do you really think a tiny village scratching a living off goats and barley is the one in charge of this arrangement?”
Thankfully, Benjamin stepped between us, gently but firmly pushing us apart.
“Alright you two, I’ll remind you both that I am still the master of this vessel. Why don’t we leave this discussion to another day?”
The Earl’s lip curled in disgust as Benjamin shepherded me away.
I’m sorry, he mouthed, but with a snarl I turned and leapt from the side of the black iron vessel, my form shifting into a spectral green banshee as my scream of rage echoed around the ironstone cliffs.
I could still smell the blood in my hair as I gripped the harpoon and stalked through the Pùca village. I had already dismissed my whaling party, the men and woman nodding in acknowledgement and walking back to their huts in silence. No one came out onto the street to greet us. None of the whaling party’s husbands or wives would be waiting by the door. A parade and feast would not be an option.
Not for us. Never for us.
With a sigh, I ducked under the low eaves of the village’s only drinking house. While our culture had resisted most of the colonist’s ways, the idea of a pub had caught on instantly.
“Give me a drink,” I growled, slouching down in a chair and leaning the hated weapon up against a wall. Behind the rough wooden bar, an old woman grunted, poured some barley wine in a clay cup and left it at the counter.
I sighed, got up out of my seat and took a deep gulp.
“Pretty good,” I announced, reflexively raising my hand to wipe my mouth before remembering it was still sticky with blue blood.
The old Pùca woman frowned, looked steadily over my shoulder then turned away as if I were a ghost.
“Miserable old coot,” I muttered, resisting the urge to wave my hand in front of the wrinkled old face.
“Don’t be so hard on them,” came a familiar voice from behind me. Normally the cracked, quiet voice would bring a smile to my lips, but I was not in the mood.
“And why shouldn’t I, Elder Ciáran?” I growled, slouching back into my chair beside the wrinkled, skinny man. “After everything my whaling party and I have went through, they treat us little better than the tribeless outcasts on the colonist’s ship.”
“They – we – are all thankful for the peace you bring us,” whispered the village Elder. “But you must understand. We are a proud people, and the sight of you brings shame.”
“I know my work is shameful!”
“No, Rhona. We feel ashamed when we look at you. You remind us of what we’ve become in order to survive.”
I sighed and leaned back in the simple wooden chair.
“The colonists want more whales. I told them no but I don’t think they’ll listen.”
Ciáran nodded slowly and looked at me carefully.
“It isn’t the first time they’ve asked. What do you want to do about it?”
“I want to strike back! I want to stop pretending that we are all happy with killing our own gods every year just to keep the colonists out if our lands.”
“Rhona…” began the Elder, but my bitterness had finally broken free and I wasn’t in the mood to stop it.
“I want to lay waste to those damn iron ships!” I snarled, knocking over the chair as I stood over the old man. “I want them to fear ever setting foot in Pùca lands! I want them to leave us alone!”
“Rhona,” said Ciáran quietly. “Calm down.”
I looked down at myself and realized my body was already beginning to shift, tongues of green flame beginning to curl around my arms and shoulders. I grunted and picked up the chair. From the bar, the old woman looked at me coldly, saw that I had noticed her, then slid her gaze over my shoulder to pretend I didn’t exist at all.
“What do you really want?” asked Ciáran.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I want the colonists to stop forcing us into this way of life. I want to stop hating the village for making me hunt. I want to stop going home to an empty house because no one will even speak to me. I want to stop killing the God Whales. I want to stop hating myself because I’m good at it.”
The old man nodded and looked out of the open wall at the front of the bar. Far above the hills, the Dëithe-Mori were still winding their way through the sky above the village, hundreds of beautiful green shapes twisting through the evening sky. Finally, Ciáran spoke.
“Rhona, before the colonists arrived, there was a certain tradition where a young warrior with promise would – well, you’ll see. Go up to cliffs tonight. Sing to the whales.”
I laughed grimly.
“You want me to beg for forgiveness?”
“No. I want you to listen.”
The cloudy moonlight shining over the ironstone cliffs failed to impress me. I looked out over the lights scattered throughout the village below, and tried to console myself that I was, at least, taking part in some ancient tradition that would have made my ancestors proud.
I wonder if they were freezing their tits off, too?
Shivering a little, I considered slipping into my wraith form – the body is freed from feeling heat or cold when floating through the twisting ether. However this went against the image in my head of some wise, aged Pùca Elder, communing with the nature to learn its wisdom.
By the time the moon was shining through the clouds directly above me, I decided the ancient Elders were either idiots or had probably died of a cold. Standing up, I shook off the heavy fur cloak and whispered a quiet song.
I had always felt the song from an early age, earlier than my brothers and earlier than any of the other children in the village. My mother had always loved to sing, and in every task, from hunting rabbits to tanning leather, she and I had sang together. I had barely come into my first cycles of womanhood when I felt my body flicker, and for a second everything had seemed tinged with green, blue and purple. When I looked around in panic I found that I had already left the ground, carried upwards in a powerful current that I could feel but barely see.
“Look!” cried the other girls in the village square. “Rhona’s flying! She’s gone wraith!”
“Don’t use the colonist’s slang!” answered my mother, shepherding the excited children away and looking up. With a wink, she hummed something under her breath and her body faded into an outline of green fire, sliding up through the air towards me.
I remember her song. It was always so calm, like a morning mist rising above a lake. She always made it seem so effortless, as if the gusts and currents that flowed through the ether were already part of her.
I’m so proud of you, she sang, reaching out with her voice to guide my uncertain, clumsy flight. Now relax. Don’t fight against the current – let it carry you to where you need to be.
I smiled and joined my voice to hers, gaining a little more confidence as we rose above the village rooftops. I felt so happy that I felt I might lose myself, dissolve entirely into the unseen currents as a little cloud of joy. But that was a long time ago.
My eyes prickles and I blinked hard, pushing the memories deep and looking up into the night sky. The flow of Dëithe-Mori had waned, a scattering of the lithe, glowing creatures still flying lazily through the clouds above on their way to some unknowable destination. But as I watched one last God Whale pushed its way through the clouds. It took me a second to adjust my perspective until I realized this creature was far, far larger than the rest. It was not just the largest that I’d ever seen, it was colossal.
And it was heading right towards me.
It’s here for revenge, I thought. It’s going to kill me.
I considered running, but somewhere in my heart I knew I had to stay. I had so much blood on my hands. How could the Dëithe-Mori not expect some kind of justice? Instead, I began to sing, balling up my memories, frustration and shame into a guttural song that slunk around the ironstone cliffs like a curse. The God Whale swam slowly down, as ominous and unstoppable as a landslide off a mountain, and as the painful song poured out of me I stood up to meet the titan creature.
End it then, I sang, uncaring now of the tears streaming down my face. End it. I’m ready.
I closed my eyes, feeling my body waver between the real world and the ether, and raised my arms. The currents flung off the whale’s movements was like hitting a brick wall, tossing me off my feet and sending me tumbling down the cliff face. If I had been completely corporeal the fall would have killed me, but instead I looked up to see the underside of the colossal God Whale drift over me like a lost moon, turn upwards and swim away.
You would deny me even this? I screamed at the retreating whale. You cannot even put me out if this suffering?
With a banshee scream I launched myself upwards, dark green and purple mist pouring off me as I set my sights in the whale. The spectral creature pushed itself upwards with fins that would have dwarfed the black iron ship, and the resulting wave tossing me backwards as if I was no more than a fly caught in a hurricane. Collecting my voice, I looked up into the night sky and stretched out my senses to feel the roiling vortex of currents the enormous Dëithe-Mori left in its wake. Sensing my path, my song became the old, hard voice of the hunt, and I ducked and soared through the darkness as I tried to keep pace with the glowing green shape.
The God Whale appeared to notice me, lifting a wing-like fin on its side that sent me sprawling back through the churning currents as I tried to get close.
You’re not getting away! I cried, twisting, ducking and even wriggling my ghostly body through the maze of currents surrounding the creature. You will acknowledge me!
Perhaps the creature really did hear my cry, although it would have been a tiny squeak to its senses. The colossal God Whale surged upwards again, the Pùca village disappearing below me as the clouds enveloped us. I forced myself to sing louder, pushing again and again against the tidal waves of pressure flowing from every in of the beast’s movements. Threading my way through the winds of real-world and the currents of the ether, I brought the memory of a dozen hunts to bear as I slowly closed the gap between us.
The Dëithe-Mori cried out then, not in pain or fear as had the others who had fallen beneath my harpoon. This was power, pure and simple. Even in my spectral form I trembled, and as the clouds span around me, I lost sight of the whale.
I saw it again moments later, a giant green glow moving behind the clouds. The God Whale broke through the cloud bank in a spray of ghostly currents, its mouth open wide as it bore down on me.
Looking up at the maw stretching across my horizons, I felt one last burst of stubborn anger push me forward.
You want me? I sang. Here I am!
But as the massive jaw closed around me I let my body relax, letting the churning currents carry me as I twisted myself up and out. The God Whale’s mouth snapped shut with a spray of green ether that would have flattened the village, but I had already wriggled down through the currents, pushing until I landed hard next to the whale’s eye. I had no harpoon with me, but on instinct, I raised a clenched fist above my head and-
Hold.
The song came from everywhere, a rumble of thunder that made my spectral form flicker.
How? I replied, my song uncertain. You can-?
Yes, came the song, echoing through the clouds. I am the oldest of the Dëithe-Mori. We have been watching you for some time, little wraith.
I don’t understand. Why have you never spoken to us before? This changes everything!
No, rumbled the reply. We stay true to the ancient pact between your kind and ours. Only one communes with us. One who understands the abyssal currents we move through. One brave enough to swim them too. But it has been many migrations since one of your kind dared venture forth.
I know why. We- we are ashamed. Despite the powers you bestowed on us, the Pùca now hunt your kind.
Why?
I hesitated, trying to find the strength to sing the words.
Because we were scared. The colonists would enslave us, destroy our way of life if we hadn’t struck a bargain with them.
We know.
You mean, all this time, you knew? Despite the colossal size of the beast flying beneath me, my anger flared up and my song turned into something ugly. As if in response, the clouds around us darkened, the wind whistling through my flickering green form.
Fight back! I sang, my voice an angry scream that was snatched away by the wind. The Pùca will fight alongside you. Together we can destroy these invaders and wreck their damned black ships! With your power, we can crush every last one of them-
Every last one? rumbled the God Whale in reply. Would you really want that?
The lighting flashed around us and the enormous creature changed its song, the giant fins moving along my horizons as a vision formed in the ether.
Confused, I blinked and tried to shake the images away, but the whale’s voice enveloped my flight.
“Dear Nancy,” came a voice, coalescing into the ruddy face of Benjamin, leaning over a writing desk.
“I hope this letter finds you well. The annual fuel processing expedition is over, but once again I find myself disgusted by what we must do.”
With a snarl, I struggled to free myself from the words but the Dëithe-Mori’s song held me fast, forcing me to see.
“I cannot wait to be in your arms again, my love,” Benjamin continued, scratching away unaware. “Tell the girls I miss them too, but when I am done with this business, I will take them to the city to visit the theater.”
Not Benjamin then, I sang, my song still low and resentful. But the others – like that damn Earl! Let’s attack him!
No.
Why not? Don’t you care about your kind? Don’t you want the killings to stop?
You don’t understand, little wraith. We do not want the killings to start.
The whale’s song turned into a mournful blast, and new visions unfurled across my vision, illuminated by the flashes of lighting surrounding us. I saw the Dëithe-Mori, hundreds of them, descending on the black iron ship, crushing the puny vessel and scattering the colonists and tribeless rabble. But on the horizon a trumpet blared, and the sky was full of new ships, black iron like the first, but sleek and sharp and bristling with weapons. The God Whales shook the sky with their song, and dozens of colonial vessels crashed down onto the ironstone cliffs below. The colonial ships threw fire, lances, arrows and explosive charges, all of which sailed through the Dëithe-Mori like they were attacking the clouds themselves. I smiled at the sight of it. The colonists could still not pierce the God Whales with their black iron. Only the Pùca held that connection.
So as I watched, the Kingdom turned on the Pùca instead.
This time the battle was bloody, relentless and effective. My song became a wail of horror as I saw my whaling party, Elder Ciáran, the whole village wreathed in flames.
No! I screamed, a long slow wail. This is not what I wanted!
This is what will result, came the reply.
The lighting flashed again and I felt myself begin to lose control, tumbling through the currents crashing off the side of the great beast. I clawed at my face with spectral hands, trying to free myself from the vision of destruction.
Then what do we do? I sang. What is the answer?
Let me show you.
With a sonorous blast, the Dëithe-Mori pushed upwards, dragging me along in its wake. For a second, all I could do was flail helplessly against the tide, then suddenly there was silence.
I looked around and saw the clouds spread out beneath me, lighting flashes still crawling beneath the surface. The moon shone down above, and I was flying above a silvery sea.
Be calm, came the Dëithe-Mori’s song. Its voice became a complex harmony, crisp and clear in the still air. Once more a vision unfolded before me, pale men and women with flame red hair watching in awe as the sky over their village opened up and a shining God Whale swam down.
When we first arrived here, we were lost, our endless migration through the void harsh and unforgiving. We gave your ancestors a sliver of our power, so that their song would be a beacon in the dark, guiding us to a safer path. In exchange we swore that we would always protect you.
But the vision you showed me, the war-
No. We will not fight. Every cycle, one of us offers themselves to ensure your safety – and ours. We swim through many futures, child. Eventually, the Kingdom will learn to use other resources. Have faith in them. Like all souls, there is good in them if you are patient.
I looked out over the clouds as I flew, not angry, simply feeling the understanding slide into place.
But we will need to speak to the colonists about their demand to hunt more Dëithe-Mori, I sang. And to obtain a better deal for the village – as well as for those with no village, I suppose. But who can speak for all of us?
That is why we have been waiting for you, little wraith.
The sun was already high when the black iron ship landed at the village gates.
“You did well, Rhona,” said Ciáran quietly, standing beside me as the entire village watched the colonists disembark.
“Did you know what was going to happen?” I whispered, looking out at the crowd and seeing the familiar faces of my whaling party.
“I had faith in you,” the Elder replied. “I remember when it was my time, and Elder Niamh sent me to sing to the whales. I passed the trial, but just between you and me, I was so scared I almost wet myself.”
“You mean, after everything I’ve done, you want me to be-?”
“Don’t start calling yourself Elder just yet, girl, you’ve still got a lot to learn. But perhaps if I need help with my duties, you might start accompanying me around the village?”
I smiled.
“I’d be honored.”
“Good. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Pleasant morning to you, Pùca villagers!” shouted Earl Pakenham, striding through the village gates and breaking up the conversation. “Have you reconsidered my generous offer?” Beside him, Benjamin winced and looked embarrassed.
With a smile I stepped forward, raising my voice in song. Fearing an attack, the well-dressed Earl scrambled backwards, but instead I looked upwards and sung all the louder. The clouds themselves shook as the song was picked up by a hundred voices and with a joyful surge the Dëithe-Mori swam down towards the village, frolicking and twisting as they made way for a familiar, colossal shape. The oldest of the Dëithe-Mori stopped just above our rooftops, a ghostly bulk that stretched the length of the village.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and Elder Ciáran nodded towards the other villagers. They weren’t staring at the great God Whale, or even at the colonists who had fallen to their knees by the gates. They were looking directly at me.
And they were smiling.
Calmly, I walked over to the stuttering Earl and offered him my hand.
“Earl Pakenham? It’s time to talk about our arrangement.”
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