[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
0Singer.txt (121 of 181) [2/4/2004 10:40:06 PM]
file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Roberson,%20Jennifer%20-%2
0Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%20Singer.txt to three loki I had unknowingly
freed.
Doors and cracks and chimneys glowed, painted with firelight. Beyond the loki,
in the darkness, I saw shadows moving. Small, pale shadows, singing the
binding song.
They came from everywhere, the Canteada. Out of and down the walls, carrying
candles, creeping forward to form a circle. Even behind Del and me, coming
forward, moving us inward, to be clustered within the circle.
The loki made sounds of distress.
It was cold. In darkness blushed with candleflame, I saw my breath plume
forth.
But the shiver that racked my body came from within, not without.
Page 139
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
The loki in human form were more than merely human. I saw madness in their
faces, and desperation, and despair. Bound by the song, all they could do was
suffer. As much, maybe, as the human hosts had suffered.
The circle closed. There was flame and song and faces, uncanny, inhuman faces.
Feathery crests stood up from brow to neck, rippling, tinged with firelight,
speaking a language all its own. I'd seen only the songmaster. Now I saw the
others. Now I heard them sing.
I am not a man much touched by music, being deaf to its intricacies. I've said
it before: it's noise, no matter the intent. But this time, this time, it was
far more than noise. Far more than song. The sound I heard was power.
Legs gave out; I sat. Even as others sat; as Del collapsed beside me,
loose-limbed, rubbery, dropping the sword beside her, awkward in the sudden
loss of muscular control. The loki also; I saw them, one by one, turned into
lumps of flesh like clay, waiting to be formed. Waiting to be shaped.
I opened my mouth to speak. To say something to Del; to ask her what it meant,
what they would do, what they wanted of us. She was Northern; surely she knew.
But I asked nothing because I couldn't. Because the song had become my world.
Flame melted, ran together, made the circle whole. I saw light, only light,
and then even that was too much to bear. There was only one thing to do, and I
did it. I ran away from it.
Trouble was, it came with me. Just like the song.
*Birthsong?* someone asked.
Birthsong. Birthsong? Blankly, I stared into the light.
A pause. *Birthname?*
Birthname. The meaning was different. Shaped to make sense to me.
I frowned. Thought about it. Realized I had no answer.
A mother or father names a child. I'd known neither one. Which meant I had no
birthname.
Barely, I shook my head.
The song changed a little. *Birthname* it insisted.
The songmaster? I wondered. Again, I shook my head.
The song grew insistent. It was unbearable. I felt pressure inside my skull.
And then, suddenly, a cessation of discomfort. I felt a trace of surprise that
had nothing to do with me.
*Callname?* it asked gently.
That one I could answer. "Sandtiger," I said.
The song lingered in my head. Searched for truth or falsehood. Found the
answer, then told me to withdraw.
Withdraw. I frowned. Stared into flame. Then knew I was meant to walk through
it.
I stood up. Drew in a breath. Walked slowly out of the circle.
I sagged against the canyon wall, conscious only of exhaustion in mind and
body.
No longer did I doubt what Del had said about the magic in their music. It had
gone into my soul, and now I understood it.
I turned. Beyond the light sat Del, staring, as I had, into the ring of flame.
The light was stark on her face, and harsh, limning lines of exhaustion and
tension. I saw blood and bruises and dirt, and an endurance almost destroyed.
Del was close to breaking.
I wanted to go to her. I wanted to go back into the circle and touch her and
lead her out through the flame, through the song, through the circle of
Canteada. But I knew better. This time, I knew better than to ignore the
file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%2
0Singer.txt (122 of 181) [2/4/2004 10:40:06 PM]
file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Roberson,%20Jennifer%20-%2
0Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%20Singer.txt existence of power.
Now it was Del's turn.
*Birthname?* the songmaster asked.
Page 140
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
She stared into the flame.
More gently, it was repeated.
"Del," the sword-dancer answered.
*Birthname,* he insisted.
"Delilah," the woman whispered.
I waited until she was free of the circle, blinded by light and tears, and
then
I took her hand, led her forth, brought her to stand with me. Saying nothing,
asking nothing, merely being there. Hoping it was enough.
The song swelled. I heard dissonance in it, and harshness. An underlying
demand.
The songmaster was inflexible as he asked birthnames of the others.
One by one, he asked them. Adara. Cipriana. Massou.
One by one, they lied.
The song intensified. I saw dozens of throats swelling forth, threatening to
burst. I heard the high melodic wailing, the deep thrumming hum, the mid-range
staccato whirring. I heard the power in the song, and knew the loki could
never withstand it.
Nothing could withstand it.
Massou broke first. "Shedu!" he screamed. "Shedu, Shedu, Shedu!"
The songmaster asked again.
"Shedu!" he screamed, in a voice too deep for his throat.
I looked at the boy, Massou. Who wasn't Massou any longer. Whose name was
Shedu instead.
Adara's turn. As had Shedu/Massou, she broke beneath the song. "Daeva," the
woman whispered. I saw anger in her eyes, and helplessness and despair.
"Daeva,"
she said again, grinding teeth into lips. Blood flowed down her chin. "Daeva!"
she cried, and it echoed in the canyon.
Lastly, I looked at Cipriana. Slender, upright Cipriana: flirtatious,
demanding
Cipriana, who had reminded me of Del. Who had done her best to seduce me. Who
now repulsed the song with every ounce of her strength.
The question was asked.
"Cipriana," she answered.
The question was asked again.
"Cipriana!" she snapped.
Yet a third time it was asked.
Pale hair stood up from her head. Rigid arms thrust into the air. "Cipriana!"
she cried.
I took a step forward. Del held me back. In silence, she shook her head.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]