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At his age, with new Wolverine power coursing through his veins, such rage could get him killed. 12 Kalindos S ura watched fire scorch the sky. Dravek s torch still burned at sunset, but soon afterward a bright streak of light had caught her eye. The moon had set a few hours after the sun, leaving the sky dark and the stars close. Now she lay on her back, watching meteors chase one another and counting the seconds between flashes. The balls of fire mesmerized her, so that when the thing from the previous night crept close again, hungrier, she did not shiver or even blink. It surrounded her like liquid, as cold as seawater but twice as thick, whispering of what it would steal if she did not give. She gave. It didn t matter, she knew, staring into the sky. There were a million worlds out there that no one ever thought about. Perhaps on one of them, another young woman was lying on the ground gazing at Sura s sun, having her own self sucked out of her, drop by drop. Her vision turned black at the edges, as though hundreds of gnats hovered around each eye. If this living void took away the sky, she would fight it. But as the blackness closed in, shrinking her sight to a pinpoint of light, then nothing at all, she realized it was too late. The thing had her. Her soul pulsed out one heartbeat at a time, but still she felt no fear, only curiosity. For inside her, the flame still burned. Dravek waited for Sura to scream. He had screamed, all night, when the living void had taken him at his own Bestowing. So had everyone else he knew. It had seemed worse than death, because it wasn t life being annihilated, but a soul, sucked out, chewed up, spit back inside a person in an unrecognizable form. He understood why it had to happen. One had to be empty to receive the Spirit at the Bestowing. Fasting emptied the body, meditation emptied the mind. But nothing could empty the soul, nothing but that& thing. He checked the stars positions. Winter constellations were rising, which at this time of year meant the sun would be up soon, though no light grayed the eastern horizon. By now it should have had her. Unable to sit still any longer, he strapped on his pack. It wasn t heavy, since he d brought no food for himself. He d planned to spend these three days speaking with his Spirit, asking the questions that burned inside him. But She had remained elusive and silent. Dravek slid the torch from its holder and started to cross the boulder field a dangerous maneuver at night. One slip could leave him with a twisted or broken ankle. But Sura s silence drew him on. What if she were hurt or sick? He told himself that his feelings for her were a product of their spiritual kinship. Kara often spoke of her Wolf-brothers, and though he knew they all curled up together for warmth during weeklong winter hunts, it stirred no jealousy in him. Nothing like what he felt when Etarek or another former lover smiled at her. He stopped short. As an experiment, he imagined Kara with someone else another man s hands caressing her body, his lips closing over her nipple as she sighed and shuddered in his arms. Nothing. He felt no jealousy, not even a spark of arousal. He hurried forward onto the next rock. He would demand Snake s presence, demand answers. Dravek had almost reached the other side of the field when a woman s laughter cut the predawn air. He looked up at the side of Mount Beros. A breeze blew, rustling the needles of the surrounding pines and muffling the sounds of mirth. Dravek stepped onto the soil of the forest. He crammed the end of the torch into a gap between the two closest stones, then sat to wait. As the sun rose, the wind died, and her voice came again, moaning and shrieking in what sounded like ecstasy. His body responded instantly, wanting to be the cause of those noises. He rubbed his face and groaned. What are You doing to her? he whispered as he began to pace. What are You doing to me? Snake wouldn t answer. Dravek turned to the torch and stared into the flame, usually the surest way to reach Her. He stared until he couldn t feel where he ended and the fire began. Then he sent out one last plea. Unanswered. He sank to his knees, bent forward and grasped his head in his arms. His forehead pressed the damp soil. Come to me, he pleaded. Tell me what You want. He repeated his Spirit s name, and Sura s, chanting into the ground near his lips. Here he would wait, no matter how long, until one of them appeared. Then he would have his answer. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |