cb.imajica2-第21部分
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
tle's side towards the Erasure。 There were perhaps a dozen yards to cover； and as the gap diminished Gentle's heart； already pounding after Pie's touch； beat faster； its drum tolling in his head。 Even now； knowing he couldn't rescind the freedom he'd granted； it was all he could do not to pursue the mystif and delay it just another moment： to hear its voice； to stand beside it； to be the shadow of its shadow。
It didn't glance back； but stepped with cruel ease into the no…man's…land between solidity and nothingness。 Gentle refused to look away but stared on with a steadfastness more defiant than heroic。 The place was well named。 As the mystif walked it was erased； like a sketch that had served its Creator's purpose and was no longer needed on the page。 But unlike the sketch； which however fastidiously erased always left some trace to mark the artist's error； when Pie finally disappeared the vanishing was plete； leaving the spot flawless。 If Gentle had not had the mystif in his memory…that unreliable book…it might never have existed。
5
When he returned inside； it was to meet the stares of fifty or more people gathered at the door； all of whom had obviously witnessed what had just happened； albeit at some distance。 Nobody so much as coughed until he'd passed； then he heard the whispers rise like the sound of swarming insects。 Did they have nothing better to do than gossip about his grief？ he thought。 The sooner he was away from here； the better。 He'd say his farewells to Estabrook and Floccus and leave immediately。
He returned to Pie's bed； hoping the mystif might have left some keepsake for him； but the only sign of its presence was the indentation in the pillow on which its beautiful head had lain。 He longed to lie there himself for a little time； but it was too public for such an indulgence。 He would grieve when he was away from here。
As he prepared to leave； Floccus appeared； his wiry little body twitching like a boxer anticipating a blow。
〃I'm sorry to interrupt；〃 he said。
〃I was ing to find you anyway；〃 Gentle said。 〃Just to say thank you； and goodbye。〃
〃Before you go；〃 Floccus said； blinking maniacally； 〃I've a message for you。〃 He'd sweated all the color from his face and stumbled over every other word。
〃I'm sorry for my behavior；〃 Gentle said； trying to soothe him。 〃You did all you could have done； and all you got for it was my foul temper；〃
〃No need to apologize。〃
〃Pie had to go； and I have to stay。 That's the way of it。〃
〃It's a pleasure to have you back；〃 Floccus gushed。 〃Really； Maestro； really。〃
That Maestro gave Gentle a clue to this performance。 〃Floccus？ Are you afraid of me？〃 he said。 〃You are； aren't you？〃
〃Afraid？ Ah； well…ah； yes。 In a manner of speaking。 Yes。 What happened out there； your getting so close to the Erasure and not being claimed； and the way you've changed〃…the dark garb still clung about him； he realized； its slow dispersal draping shreds of smoke around his limbs…〃it puts a different plexion on things。 I hadn't understood； forgive me； it was stupid； I hadn't understood； you know； that I was in the panyof； well； such a power。 If I； you know； caused any offense…〃
〃You didn't。〃
〃I can be frivolous。〃
〃You were fine pany； Floccus。〃
〃Thank you； Maestro。 Thank you。 Thank you。〃
〃Please stop thanking me。〃
〃Yes。 I will。 Thank you。〃
〃You said you had a message。〃
〃I did？ I did。〃
〃Who from？〃
〃Athanasius。 He'd like very much to see you。〃
Here was the third farewell he owed； Gentle thought。 〃Then take me to him； if you would；〃 he said； and Floccus； his face flooded with relief that he'd survived this interview； turned and led him from the empty bed。
In the few minutes it took for them to thread their way through the body of the tent； the wind； which had dropped almost to nothing at twilight； began to rise with fresh ferocity。 By the time Floccus ushered him into the chamber where Athanasius waited； it was beating at the walls wildly； The lamps on the floor flickered with each gust； and by their panicky light Gentle saw what a melancholy place Athanasius had chosen for their parting。 The chamber was a mortuary； its floor littered with bodies wrapped in every kind of rag and shroud； some neatly parceled； most barely covered： further proof…as if it were needed…of how poor a place of healing this was。 But that argument was academic now。 This was neither the time nor the place to bruise the man's faith； not with the night wind thrashing at the walls and the dead everywhere underfoot。
〃Do you want me to stay？〃 Floccus asked Athanasius； clearly desperate to be shunned。
〃No； no。 Go by all means；〃 the other replied。 Floccus turned to Gentle and made a little bow。 〃It was an honor； sir；〃 he said； then beat a hasty retreat。
When Gentle looked back towards Athanasius； the man had wandered to the far end of the mortuary and was staring down at one of the shrouded bodies。 He had dressed for this somber place； the loose bright garb he'd been wearing earlier discarded in favor of robes so deep a blue they were practically black。
〃So； Maestro；〃 he said。 〃I was looking for a Judas in our midst and I missed you。 That was careless； eh？〃
His tone was conversational； which made a statement Gentle already found confusing doubly so。
〃What do you mean？〃 he said。
〃I mean you tricked your way into our tents； and now you expect to depart without paying a price for your desecration。〃
〃There was no trick；〃 Gentle said。 〃The mystif was sick； and I thought it could be healed here。 If I failed to observe the formalities out there； you'll excuse me。 I didn't have time to take a theology lesson。〃
〃The mystif was never sick。 Or if it was you sickened it yourself； so you could worm your way in here。 Don't even bother to protest。 I saw what you did out there。 What's the mystif going to do； make some report on us to the Unbeheld？〃
〃What are you accusing me of exactly？〃
〃Do you even e from the Fifth； I find myself wondering； or is that also part of the plot？〃
〃There is no plot。〃
〃Only I've heard that revolution and theology are bad bedfellows there； which of course seems strange to us。 How can one ever be separated from the other？ If you want to change even a little part of your condition； you must expect the consequences to reach the ears of divinities sooner or later； and then you must have your reasons ready。〃
Gentle listened to all of this； wondering if it might not be simplest to quit the room and leave Athanasius to ramble。 Clearly none of this really made any sense。 But he owed the man a little patience； perhaps； if only for the words of wisdom he'd bestowed at the wedding。
〃You think I'm involved in some conspiracy；〃 Gentle said。 〃Is that it？〃
〃I think you're a murderer； a liar； and an agent of the Autarch；〃 Athanasius said；
〃You call me a liar？ Who's the one who seduced all these poor fuckers into thinking they could be healed here； you or me？ Look at them！〃 He pointed along the rows。 〃You call this healing？ I don't。 And if they had the breath…〃
He reached down and snatched the shroud off the corpse closest to him。 The face beneath was that of a pretty woman。 Her open eyes were glazed。 So was her face： painted and glazed。 Carved； painted； and glazed。 He tugged the sheet farther back； hearing Athanasius' hard； humorless laugh as he did so。 The woman had a painted child perched in the crook of her arm。 There was a gilded halo around its head； and its tiny hand was raised in benediction。
〃She may lie very still；〃 Athanasius said。 〃But don't be deceived。 She's not dead；〃
Gentle went to another of the bodies and drew back its covering。 Beneath lay a second Madonna； this one more baroque than the first； its eyes turned up in a beatific swoon。 He let the shroud drop from between his fingers。
〃Feeling weak； Maestro？〃 Athanasius said。 〃You conceal your fear very well； but you don't deceive me。〃
Gentle looked around the room again。 There were at least thirty bodies laid out here。 〃Are all of them Madonnas？〃 he said。
Reading Gentle's bewilderment as anxiety； Athanasius said； 〃Now I begin to see the fear。 This ground is sacred to the Goddess。〃 〃Why？〃
〃Because tradition says a great crime was mitted
