cb.imajica2-第113部分
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〃And you found one。 The Imajica's a circle； and there's no way out of it。 We just go round and round。 Well； that's not so bad； Gentle； We have what we have。〃
Gentle lifted his hand from Monday's shoulder and turned away from the tree； and from Jude； and from the angels on the step。 As he hobbled out into the middle of the street； his head bowed； he murmured a reply to Tay too quiet for any but an angel's ear。 〃It's not enough；〃 he said。
25
For the living occupants of Gamut Street； the days that followed the events of that midsummer were as strange in their way as anything that had gone before。 The world that returned to life around them seemed to be totally ignorant of the fact that its existence had hung in the balance； and if it now sensed the least change in its condition it concealed its suspicion very well。 The monsoons and heat waves that had preceded the Reconciliation were replaced the next morning with the drizzles and tepid sunshine of an English summer； its moderation the model for public behavior in subsequent weeks。 The eruptions of irrationality which had turned every junction and street corner into a little battleground summarily ceased； the night walkers Monday and Jude had seen watching for revelation no longer strayed out to peer quizzically at the stars。
In any city other than London； perhaps the mysteries now present in its streets would have been discovered and celebrated。 If such fogs as lingered in Clerkenwell had appeared instead in Rome； the Vatican would have been pronouncing on them within a week。 Had they appeared in Mexico City； the poor would have been through them in a shorter time still； desperate for a better life in the world beyond。 But England： oh！ England。 It had never had much of a taste for the mystical； and with all but the weakest of its evocators and feit workers murdered by the Tabula Rasa； there was nobody to begin the labor of freeing minds locked up in dogmas and utilities。
The fogs were not entirely ignored； however。 The animal life of the city knew something was afoot and came to Clerkenwell to sniff it out。 The runaway dogs who'd gathered in the vicinity of Gamut Street when the revenants had e； only to be frightened off by Sartori's horde； now returned； their noses twitching after some piquant scent or other。 Cats came too； yowling in the trees at dusk； curious but casual。 There were also visitations by bees； and birds； who twice in the three days following midsummer gathered in the same stupefying numbers as Monday and Jude had witnessed at the Retreat。 In all these cases the packs； swarms； and flocks disappeared after a time； having discovered the source of the perfumes and poles that had directed them to the district and gone into the Fourth to have a life under different skies。
But if no two…legged traffic passed into the Fourth； there was certainly some in the opposite direction。 A little over a week after the Reconciliation； Tick Raw arrived on the doorstep of number 28 and； having introduced himself to Clem and Monday； asked to see the Maestro。 He came into a house that was a good deal more fortable than his quarters in Vanaeph； furnished as it was from a score of recent burglaries by Monday and Clem。 But the atmosphere of domesticity was cosmetic。 Though the bodies of the gek…a…gek had been removed and buried； along with their summoner； beneath the long grass in Shiverick Square； though the front door had been mended and the bloodstains mopped up； though the Meditation Room had been scoured and the stones of the circle individually wrapped in linen and locked away； the house was charged with all that had happened here： the deaths； the love scenes； the reunions and revelations。
〃You're living in the middle of a history lesson；〃 Tick Raw said when he sat himself down beside the bed in which Gentle lay。
The Reconciler was healing； but even with his extraordinary powers of recuperation it would be a lengthy business。 He slept twenty hours or more out of every twenty…four and barely ventured from his mattress when he was awake。
〃You look as though you've seen some wars； my friend；〃 Tick Raw said。
〃More than I'd like；〃 Gentle replied wearily。
〃I sniff something Oviate。〃
〃Gek…a…gek；〃 Gentle said。 〃Don't worry； they're gone。〃
〃Did they break through during the ceremony？〃
〃No。 It's more plicated than that。 Ask Clem。 He'll tell you the whole story。〃
〃No offense to your friends；〃 Tick Raw said； fetching a jar of pickled sausage from his pocket； 〃but I'd prefer to hear it from you。〃
〃I've thought about it too much as it is；〃 Gentle said。 〃I don't want to be reminded。〃
〃But we won the day；〃 Tick Raw said。 〃Doesn't that merit a little celebration？〃
〃Celebrate with Clem； Tick。 I need to sleep。〃
〃As you like； as you like；〃 Tick Raw said； retreating to the door。 〃Oh。 I wonder？ Do you mind if I stay here for a few days？ There's a number of parties in Vanaeph who want the grand tour of the Fifth； and I've volunteered to show them the sights。 But as I don't yet know them myself…〃
〃Be my guest；〃 Gentle said。 〃And forgive me if I don't brim with bonhomie。〃
〃No apology required；〃 Tick Raw said。 〃I'll leave you to sleep。〃
That evening； Tick did as Gentle had suggested and plied both Clem and Monday with questions until he had the full story。
〃So when do I meet the mesmeric Judith？〃 he asked when the tale was told。
〃I don't know if you ever will；〃 Clem said。 〃She didn't e back to the house after we buried Sartori。〃
〃Where is she？〃
〃Wherever she is；〃 Monday said dolefully； 〃Hoi…Polloi's with her。 Just my fuckin' luck。〃
〃Well； now； listen；〃 Tick Raw said。 〃I've always had a way with the ladies。 I'll make you a deal。 If you show me this city； inside out； I'll show you a few ladies the same way。〃
Monday's palm went from his pocket； where it'd been stroking the consequence of Hoi…Polloi's absence； and seized hold of Tick Raw's hand before it was even extended。
〃You're a gentleman an' a squalor；〃 Monday said。 〃You got yourself a tour； mate。〃
〃What about Gentle？〃 Tick Raw said to Clem。 〃Is he languishing for want of female pany？〃
〃No； he's just tired。 He'll get well。〃
〃Will he？〃 said Tick Raw。 〃I'm not so sure。 He's got the look of a man who'd be happier dead than alive。〃
〃Don't say that。〃
〃Very well。 I didn't say it。 But he has； Clement。 And we all know it。〃
The vigor and noise Tick Raw brought into the house only served to emphasize the truth of that observation。 As the days passed and turned to weeks； there was little or no improvement in Gentle's mood。 He was； as Tick Raw had said； languishing； and Clem began to feel the way he had during Tay's final decline。 A loved one was slipping away； and he could do nothing to prevent it。 There weren't even those moments of levity that there'd been with Tay； when good times had been remembered and the pain superseded。 Gentle wanted no false forts； no laughter； no sympathy。 He simply wanted to lie in his bed and steadily bee as bland as the sheets he lay upon。 Sometimes； in his sleep； the angels would hear him speaking in tongues； the way Tay had heard him talk before。 But it was nonsense that he muttered： reports from a mind that was rambling without map or destination。
Tick Raw stayed in the house a month； leaving with Monday at dawn and returning late； having had another day seeing the sights and acquiring the appetites of this new Dominion。 His sense of wonder was boundless； his capacity for pleasure prodigal。 He found he had a taste for eel pie and Elgar； for Speaker's Corner at Sunday noon and the Ripper's haunts at midnight； for dog races； for jazz； for waistcoats made in Saville Row and women hired behind King's
Cross Station。 As for Monday； it was clear from the face he wore whenever he returned that the hurt of Hoi…Polloi's desertion was being kissed away。 When Tick Raw finally announced that it was time to return to the Fourth； the boy was crestfallen。
〃Don't worry；〃 Tick told him。 〃I'll be back。 And I won't be alone。〃
Before he departed； he presented himself at Gentle's bedside with a proposal。
〃e to the Fourth with me；〃 he said； 〃it's time you saw Patashoqua。〃
Gentle shook his head。
〃But you haven't seen the Merrow T
