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第115部分

srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第115部分

小说: srdonaldson.theillearthwar 字数: 每页4000字

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 attention stopped him。 For her sake; he mustered his courage。 〃Well; look at what's happened because of me。 I did something to Loric's krill…therefore Amok showed up…therefore you're going to try to unlock the Seventh Ward。 It's as neat as clockwork。 If you'd summoned me sooner; then when we got to this point you wouldn't be under such pressure to use lore you don't understand。 And if all this had happened later; you wouldn't have e here at all…you would have been too busy fighting the war。
 〃As for me〃…he swallowed and looked away for an instant; then took a step closer to the root of his bargain…〃this is the only way I can possibly get off the hook。 If things had gone differently; there would have been a lot more pressure on me…from everywhere…to learn how to use this ring。 And Joan But this way you've been distracted…you're thinking about the Seventh Ward instead of wild magic or whatever。 And Foul doesn't want me to learn what white gold is good for。 I might use it against him。
 〃Don't you see it? Foul put us right where we are。 He released dukkha so that we would be right here now。 He must have a reason。 He likes to destroy people through the things that make them hope。 That way he can get them to desecrate… No wonder this is the dark of the moon。〃 He was poignantly conscious of the way in which he endangered his own cause as he concluded softly; 〃Elena; the Seventh Ward might be the worst thing that has happened yet。〃
 But she had her answer ready。 〃No; beloved。 I do not believe it。 High Lord Kevin formed his Wards in a time before his wisdom fell into despair。 Fangthane's hand is not in them。 It may be that the Power of mand is perilous…but it is not ill。〃
 Her statement did not convince him。 But he did not have the heart to protest。 The echoes placed too much stress on even his simplest words。 Instead; he sat gazing morosely at her feet while he scratched at the itch of his wedding band。 As the echoes died…as the boat slid gently to a stop in the water…he felt that he had missed a chance for rectitude。
 For a time; no voice arose to move the boat。
 Covenant and Elena sat in silence; studying their private thoughts。 But then she spoke again。 Softly; reverently; she recited the words of Lord Kevin's Lament。 The boat glided onward again。
 Shortly the craft rounded another column; and Covenant found himself staring at a high; sparkling; silent waterfall ahead。 Its upper reaches disappeared into the shadows of the cavern's ceiling。 But the torrents which poured noiselessly down its ragged surface caught the fiery rocklight at thousands of bright points; so that the falls looked like a cascade of hot; rich; red gems。
 The boat flowed smoothly on Elena's recitation toward a rock levee at one side of the waterfall; and slid up into place。 At once; Amok leaped from the craft; and stood waiting for his panions on the edge of Earthroot。 But for a moment they did not follow him。 They sat spellbound by the splendor and silence of the falls。
 〃e; High Lord;〃 the youth said。 〃The Seventh Ward is nigh。 I must bring my being to an end。〃 His tone matched the unwonted seriousness of his countenance。
 Elena shook her head vaguely; as if she were remembering her limitations; her weariness and lack of knowledge。 And Covenant covered his eyes to block out the disconcerting noiseless tumble and glitter of the falls。 But then Morin stepped up onto the levee; and Elena followed him with a sigh。 Gripping the gunwales with both hands; Covenant climbed out of the craft。 When Bannor joined them; the High Lord's party was plete。
 Amok regarded them soberly。 He seemed to have aged during the boat ride。 The cheeriness had faded from his face; leaving his ancient bones uncontradicted。 His lips moved as if he wished to speak。 But he。 said nothing。 Like a man looking for support; he gazed briefly at each of his panions。 Then he turned away; went with an oddly heavy step toward the waterfall: When he reached the first wet rocks; he ; scrambled up them; and stepped into the plunging ‘ water。
 With his legs widely braced against the weight of the falls; he looked back toward his panions。 〃Do not fear;〃 he said through the silent torrent。 〃This is merely water as you have known it。 Earthroot's potency springs from another source。 e。〃 With a beckoning gesture; he disappeared under the falls。
 At this; Elena stiffened。 The nearness of the Seventh Ward filled her face。 Discarding her fatigue; she hastened behind Morin toward the waterfall。
 Covenant followed her。 Wracked; weary; full of unprehending dread; he nevertheless could not hang back now。 As Elena pushed through the cascade and passed out of sight; he thrust himself up the wet jumble of rocks; began to crouch toward the falls。 Spray dashed into his face。 The rocks were too slick for him; he was forced to crawl。 But he kept moving to evade Bannor's help。 Holding his breath; he burrowed into the water as if it were an avalanche。
 It almost flattened him; it pounded him like the accumulated weight of his delusion。 But as he propped himself up against it…as the falls drenched him; filled his eyes and mouth and ears…he felt some of its vitality。 It attacked him like an involuntary ablution; a cleansing performed as the last prerequisite of the Power of mand。 It scrubbed at him as if it meant to peel his bones。 But the water force missed his face and chest。 It laid bare all his nerves; but failed to purify the marrow of his unfitness。 A moment later; he crawled raw and untransmogrified into the darkness beyond the waterfall。
 Quivering; he shook his head; blew the water out of his mouth and nose。 His hands told him that he was on flat stone; but it felt strange; both dry and slippery。 It resisted solid contact with his palms。 And he could see nothing; hear no scuffles or whispers from his panions。 But his sense of smell reacted violently。 He found himself in an air so laden with force that it submerged every other odor of his life。 It swamped him like the stink of gangrene; burned him like the reek of brimstone; but it bore no resemblance to these or any other smells he knew。 It was like the polished; massive expanse of Earthroot…like the immensity of the rocklit cavern…like the continual; adumbrated weight of the waterfall…like the echoes…like the deathless stability of Melenkurion Skyweir。 It reduced his restless consciousness to the scale of mere brief flesh。
 It was the smell of Earthpower。
 He could not stand it。 He was on his knees before it; with his forehead pressed against the cold stone and his hands clasped over the back of his neck。
 Then he heard a low; flaring noise as Elena lit the Staff of Law。 Slowly; he raised his head。 The sting of the air filled his eyes with tears; but he blinked at them; and looked about him。
 He was in a tunnel which ran straight and lightless away from the falls。 Down its center…out of the distance and into the falls…flowed a small stream less than a yard wide。 Even in the Staffs blue light; the fluid of this stream was as red as fresh blood。 This was the source of the smell…the source of Earthroot's dangerous potency。 He could see its concentrated might。
 He pushed to his feet; scrambled toward the tunnel wall; he wanted to get as far as possible from the stream。 His boots slipped on the black stone floor as if it were glazed with ice。 He had to struggle to keep his balance。 But he reached the wall; pressed himself against it。 Then he looked toward Elena。
 She was gazing as if with bated breath down the tunnel。 A rapt; exultant expression filled her face; and she seemed taller; elevated in stature by her grasp on the Staff of Law…as if the Staffs flame fed a fire within her; a blaze like a vision of victory。 She looked like a priestess; an enactor of hallowed and effective rites; approaching the occult ground of her strength。 The very gaps of her elsewhere gaze were crowded with exalted and savage possibilities。 They made Covenant forget the unfortable power of the air; forget the tears which ran from his eyes like weeping; and step forward to warn her。
 At once; he lost his footing; barely managed to avoid a fall。 Before he could try again; he heard Amok say; 〃e。 The end is at hand。〃 The youth's
 speech sounded as spectral as

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