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filled with shadow and a si-lence broken only by snores of various
kinds whistles, grunts and one odd half-cough, half-gurgle.
Honeydew circled and came back, hovered in front of him, her body all
question. He watched her and was pleased that the blurring and double vision
had gone away for the moment.  Point me to a room with a youmbard, he
muttered and was pleased again when she darted off, heading to the third door
on the left.
Hedivy caught hold of the sleeper s head and twisted sharply, smiling a little
at the sound of bone breaking. He dropped the head on the pillow, pulled the
blankets off the bed and tossed them in a heap on the floor, found a belt and
threaded it through the loops on his trousers. The man was about Adlayr s
size, so Hedivy pulled his spare clothing off the wall pegs and threw it on
the blankets, in case they couldn t locate their gear; the gyes would need
some-thing to wear when he shifted back. He took the man s knife from its
sheath on the weapon harness, dropped it on the blankets with the clothing,
then the harness went over his good shoulder, pulled around so the shortgun in
its holster was in easy reach. That put the knife sheath behind his back, but
one couldn t have everything.
The room went fuzzy for a moment He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes.
I will NOT pass out.
I will NOT fall down and crawl.
He breathed slowly, carefully until the underwater feeling went away, then
eased onto his knees, rolled the blankets into a tight cylinder with the
clothing inside, cut a bit off the rope Adlayr had provided and used it to
se-cure the bundle and make a strap for it so he could hang it on his good
shoulder and keep his hands free. He looked at the rope a moment, cut another
length, tied it into a loop and dropped it about his neck to use as a sling to
rest his arm and take the weight of it off his sore shoulder. He slid the
weapon harness around, snapped the knife into its sheath, then reset-tled the
holster beneath his hand.
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He got to his feet and started to leave the room, went back for the pillow,
thinking he could wrap it around the shortgun and use it to muffle the shots
if he had to shoot. Maybe. Worth a try. He tucked the pillow under his arm,
took a last look round the small room and left.
In the hall, the door pulled shut behind him, he flicked a finger at Honeydew,
then followed the sprite
as she darted away.
The guards at the postern door were squatting be-side a grid chalked on the
stone floor, casting dice and arguing in whispers over the results.
Hedivy pressed himself against the wall and watched them for several minutes,
the blurring back so he could barely make them out. The gun was
use-less, he d probably miss a wall if he shot at it.
Hon-eydew brushed past him, hovered in front of him, quivering and impatient.
He saw her as a length of light, her wings faint ripples beside it.
No point in waiting.
He dropped the pillow, began walking toward the gambling men, not trying for
si-lence, just the calm, assured sound of someone who belonged where he was.
He was almost up to them when one of the guards looked up.
Hedivy lifted the gun, pointed it at the rising blur.  Open your mouth and
you re dead. He kept his voice quiet, calm.  That s right. On your feet. Get
that door open. His vision cleared enough to see one of the guards starting
to look hot.  You want to try me?
 You shoot that and the whole place ll land on you.
 Maybe so, but you ll be dead. Now get that door open.
One guard looked about to argue, but the other grabbed him, calmed him down.
Hedivy was close to spraying as many shots as he could squeeze off at the
shifting, blurring images, hoping to hit something and get away before the
Godhouse could react; ap-parently that was visible in his face.
Adlayr was waiting outside.
They left the guards tied, gagged and rolled against the wall, hidden behind
the bushes that grew there.
Honeydew perched on his shoulder, clinging to his braid, Adlayr pulled open
the door to the small shed near the GodHouse s stables.  I saw them put our
gear in here.
Hedivy grunted.
 Youmbards and some men in robes had the stuff, they were arguing over whose
it was. I expect they left it here for morning and more argument. There was a
padlock on this hasp, but I tickled it open, tossed it in that patch of weeds.
Let them hunt for it if they want it. He grinned.  Odd stuff they teach you
at the Biserica.
Hedivy stumbled forward, lurched into the wall as he tried to go inside, face
flushed, a film of sweat gleaming in the starlight.
 Careful there, Hey. Adlayr caught him by the arm, swore as Hedivy slumped
and groaned.  Zhag, I
wish Serroi was here. Give me your good hand, let s get you sitting down.
That s good, just rest now. I ll saddle the macs, bring them over here. You
concen-trate on getting your head clear.
Adlayr eased the stable door open, stiffened, started to back away.
 Wait. The woman standing in the shadow stepped forward.  You needn t worry,
I ll be going with you.
 What? He glanced over his shoulder, then past the woman at the faintly
gleaming strangenesses that clung to the rafters and walls, eyes like
iridescent soap-bubbles staring at him.  Who re you? What re you talking
about?
 My name is Tserama. I am Danoulcha s Spirit Reader. But that doesn t matter.
I know things you need to know. I know the Prudjin. I know where she lives.
 So do L Mount Santak.
 And do you know which peak answers to that name? Don t play the fool,
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Change-man. This isn t the time for fiddling with words. She moved toward
him.  I have saddled your beasts for you. Sunup is in a few hours. We have to
be well away by then.
11. Jail Dance (3)
Treshteny moved her arms as inconspicuously as she could; her wrists were
rubbed raw by the bindings the youmbards never took off except when they
put her and the others in a GodHouse cell for the night. Yela o leaned against
her, his hands wrapped in her skirt. Mama Chntody stood like a lump [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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