[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
to the deceit. His shifty eyes gave Goblin away.
One-Eye puffed up like a toady frog, ready to explode. Then a miracle
occurred. He invented self-restraint. A nasty little smile pranced across his
lips and he turned back to the guides.
That was the second time in my experience that he had controlled himself when
provoked. But, then, it was one of those rare times when Goblin had initiated
the process of provocation. I told Otto, "This could get interesting.
Otto grunted an affirmative. He was not thrilled.
Of One-Eye, I asked, "Have you finished telling them you're the necromancer
Voice of the North Wind come to ease the pain in their hearts brought on by
worry about their wealth?" He'd actually tried to sell that once, to a tribe
of savages coincidentally in possession of an eye-popping cache of emeralds.
He found out the hard way that primitive does not mean stupid. They were
fixing to burn him at the stake when Goblin decided to bail him out. Against
his better judgment, he always insisted afterward.
"It ain't like that this time, Croaker. I wouldn't do it to my own people."
One-Eye does not have an ounce of shame. Nor even the sense not to lie to
those who know him well. Of course he would do it to his own people. He would
do it to anybody if he thought he could get away with it. And he has so little
trouble conning himself on that.
"See that you don't. We're too few and too far from safety to let you indulge
yourself in your usual line of shit."
I got enough menace into my voice to make him gulp.
His tone was markedly different when he resumed gobbling at our prospective
guides.
Even so, I decided I would pick up a smatter of the language. Just to keep an
ear on him. His often misplaced self-confidence has a way of asserting itself
at the most unpropitious moments.
Straight for a time, One-Eye negotiated a deal that pleased everyone. We had
ourselves guides for the passage through the jungle and inlermediary
interpreters for the land that lay beyond.
Relying on his usual moronic sense of humor, Goblin dubbed them Baldo and
Wheezer, for reasons that were self-evident To my embarrassment, the names
stuck. Those two old boys probably deserved better. But then again...
We wended our way belween the shaggy, hump-backed hills the rest of that day,
and as darkness approached we topped the cleavage belween the pair that
Page 41
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
flanked the summit of our passage. From there we could see the sunset,
reflecting bloody wounds of a broad river, and the rich green of the jungle
beyond. Behind us lay the tawny humps, and beyond them a hazy sprawl of
indigo.
My mood was reflective, flat, almost down. It seemed we might have reached a
watershed in more than a geographical sense.
Much later, unable to sleep for thoughts that questioned what I was doing here
in an alien land, thoughts that replied that I had nothing else to do and
nowhere else to go, I left my bedroll and the remaining warmth of our
campfire. I headed for one of the flanking hills, moved by some vague notion
of going up where I could get a better view of the stars.
Wheezer, who had the watch, gave me a gap-toothed leer before spitting a wad
of brown juice into the coals. I heard him start wheezing before I was halfway
up the hill.
A lunger I got, yet.
* * *
The moon threatened to rise soon. It would be fat and bright. I picked me a
spot and stood looking at the horizon, waiting for that fat orange globe to
roll over the lip of the world. The faintest of cool, moist breezes stirred my
hair. It was so damned peaceful it hurt.
"You couldn't sleep, either?"
I jerked around.
She was a dark glob on the hillside just ten feet away. If I had noted her at
all, it was as a rock. I stepped closer. She was seated, her arms wrapped
around her knees. Her gaze was fixed on the north.
"Sit down."
I sat. "What are you looking at so hard?"
"The Reaper. The Archer. Vargo's Ship." And yesterdays, no doubt.
Those were constellations. I considered them, too. They were very low, seen
from here. This time of year they would be quite high in the sky up north.
What she meant began to sink in.
We had come a far piece, indeed. With many a mile to go-She said, "It's
intimidating when you think about it.
It's a lot of walking."
It was.
The moon clambered over the horizon, monstrous in size and almost red. She
whispered "Wow!" and slipped her hand into mine. She was shivering, so after a
minute I slid over and put my arm around her. She leaned her head against my
shoulder.
That old moon was working its magic. That sucker can do it to anybody.
Now I knew what made Wheezer grin.
Page 42
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
The moment seemed right. I turned my head-and her lips were rising to meet
mine. When they touched mine I forgot who and what she had been. Her arms
surrounded me, pulled me down....
She shivered in my grasp like a captive mouse. "What is it?" I whispered.
"Shh," she said. And that was the best thing she could have said. But she
could not leave it there. She had to add, "I never... I never did this...."
Well, shit. She sure knew how to distract a man, and put a thousand
reservations into his mind.
That moon climbed the sky. We began to relax with each other. Somehow, there
were fewer rags separating us.
She stiffened. The mist went out of her eyes. She lifted her head and stared
past me, face slack.
If one of those clowns had sneaked up to watch I was going to break his
kneecaps. I turned.
We did not have company. She was watching the flash of a distant storm. "Heat
lightning," I said.
"You think so? It doesn't seem much farther off than the Temple. And we never
saw a storm the whole time we were crossing that country."
Jagged lightning bolts ripped down like a fall of javelins.
That feeling I had discussed with One-Eye redoubled.
"I don't know, Croaker." She began gathering her clothing. "The pattern seems
familiar."
I followed her lead, relieved. I am not sure I would have been able to finish
what we started. I was distracted now.
"Another time will be better, I think," she said, still staring at that
lightning. "That is too distracting."
We returned to camp to find everyone awake yet totally uninterested in the
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]