[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

said on a silver thread of sound.  I do not want to be the
last I do not want all I am to pass into the void. His eyes
seared her; it was like looking at Kaveh's basket, a delicately
woven thing full of bones.  Eternity has an awful knell.
She shivered, wondering what this quest would require of
her. Taken to its most basic level, he wanted a child; it was
an odd quest for immortality, which he apparently already
possessed or near enough that she could not fathom the
difference. Instinct moved her to sink down beside him,
fanning the blue fabric about her knees. Arms folded beneath
him, Rodhlann lay on his back as if gazing at stars instead of
the seams of the black goat-hair tent. She tentatively
smoothed the silky strands away from his marble-pale brow,
130
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
as she'd done that first night. He bore the gesture with
impassivity, watching her with his iridescent eyes.
 You are more than weary, she said with certainty.  What
can I do?
 I am dying. And you can do nothing, save find Maksoor
Balad for me.
Dying no. She would not believe it.  There must be
something 
He sighed, letting his blue-veined eyelids drift shut.
 Explanation will take a long while, but I am sure you will
grant me no peace until you are satisfied.
 Am I so stubborn?
 You are becoming so.
Muir chuckled reluctantly, running her gaze over his gaunt
face. He had the look of an alabaster icon, and when she
traced his brow, she expected to feel chill stone, not the
feverish heat of living flesh.  I will listen, she said.  And
learn, gladly.
With two fingers, he lifted his pendant the diamond with
a dark heart.  This should be indigo, like your dress. It is ...
attuned to another charm in Eristorne, where the last enclave
of the Daiesthai means to pass quietly into eternity. Including
my sister. I have enemies, Muir, and thus, I told no one but
Indrina of my enterprise. But  He paused, the weight of his
grief seeming to make it hard to speak.  Someone must have
... forced my intent from her, as I have been deprived of the
... vitality that sustains me. We are not naturally so long-
lived it was a gift we stole, among so many others. What
131
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
you witness now, little maid, is the weight of time bearing me
down. It will not be a pretty death or an easy one.
Muir realized that the loss of  vitality he mentioned was
probably why he could not work his conjurations, but she
found she could not wound him with the question.  Is there
no way to stave it off? Nothing you can do to reverse the 
 I have a choice, he said quietly.  It always comes to
choices, does it not? I may try to survive long enough to
return to Eristorne and to dodge whatever enemy lies in
wait in order to try to find my focus and replace it on the
Weeping Wall. Or I may try to locate the lost lore to create a
new life that will carry something of me.
 And you choose ... ?
 I am weary. His words broke her heart because she knew
what he would say; his despair filled her soul with stones.  I
have had enough of life, but I am a vain enough monster"
he gave a half smile in using her word to describe himself
"to want to leave a bit of myself behind. And perhaps, to be
remembered when all the rest are gone, if they will not see
the value of what I do.
 You cannot just  She felt a fool; if it were so basic, he
would not need to quest after forgotten secrets.
 Shortsighted, treacherous, and vain, he murmured.  No,
I cannot just. We have lost that simplicity in taking up other
gifts.
 The blood?
He opened his eyes, looking perplexed, until he
remembered.  I was born with the hunger my mother was
among the first to embrace the change. Daiesthai alchemists
132
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
found that processing it with smaller quantities of food
facilitated longevity and made for more efficient  Pausing,
he reached for a fur. Though the sun was fully risen, she saw
that he trembled.  But I cannot explain properly. The terms
would be strange to you, and I have forgotten most of what I
knew. And in the end, it does not matter.
 But... Absently, she rubbed his hair between her fingers,
so silken that it seemed spun of moonlight. He was a creature
of stars and dawn, etiolated but beautiful in a way that hurt
her when she saw her brown hand against his pallor.  I want
... to understand.
In a smooth motion, he rolled onto his side, propping his
head on his hand. The movement disturbed the cured fur, so
she covered him, as he mused,  Perhaps ... perhaps even if I
fail, little maid, you shall be my monument. Will you
remember and speak of me to your young?
 I could not forget. Muir forced the words through a
clotted throat. She found it hard to imagine a future where
she was settled, brooding babes as Immelia had once railed
against. As her mind expanded, she recoiled against the
overwhelming possibilities.  Do not speak so, she added
quickly.  You may have given your life up, but I have not.
Perhaps there is a way both to save you and bring forth the
child you desire.
 And who will grant the wishes of the afreet? His mouth
twisted with the irony.
 I will, she said and the ground itself seemed to shiver in
response.
[Back to Table of Contents]
133
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
GHOSTS WHO WALK
Midnight had a texture like the rasp of loose sand beneath
his nails. As Tah scraped his fingers against the clay floor, he
listened to a lone sign clattering outside. The wind moaned at
the walls of the high house, and he wished once more that
Ksathra Z'ev had listened to his half-hearted protest against
staying the night. The first time he had been alone, but he
had not touched anything he had not disturbed the treasures
of dead Ballendin.
His companions had feasted richly on rice and stewed
meat, finished with fruit from the izzat's kitchen: white
marula, juicy cactus pear, and crimson pitaya. While they sat
licking their fingers in the dining hall, Tah had retreated to
the kitchen. He did not want to watch them argue silently
about their course.
When the wind began to moan, the boy wrapped his arms
about his knees, cold despite the heat from the earthen oven
where he had cooked their meal. His stomach rumbled, and
doubtless Ksathra Z'ev would say he deserved to be hungry
for being so stubborn. Tah had chosen to eat the dried meat
and stale naan from their packs, although it scarcely filled a
corner of his growling belly.
The rooms between him and the older, presumably wiser,
members of their group felt eerily empty. Now that the flames
were dying, he thought he smelled the heavy olibanum of the
dead princess, a scent that clung to throat and nostrils like a
suffocating hand. The chill increased, and his limbs went
134
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
numb. Lethargy stole over him, and as his hands struck the
floor, leaden, the perfume intensified. Through dazed eyes,
Tah saw the sickly haze roll forth. He knew it was wrong
terror made his heart throb in his throat. The boy wanted to
run, but somehow he could only watch the tendrils, delicate
as death, winding about his limbs: clammy fingers on his face [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • kudrzwi.htw.pl
  • Archiwum
    Powered by wordpress | Theme: simpletex | © Wszystkie rzeczy zawsze działają zgodnie ze swoją naturą.