[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

door and Truth's spirit was on the other side, almost close enough to be joined with her physical self.
"Does this mean more moonlight and song and days of polishing?" Blind Seer growled. His hackles were up,
making him seem much larger and much more dangerous. "Does this mean more bloodshed?"
"Perhaps," Firekeeper temporized, "but shove Truth away for me and let me try something."
"I will not let you harm yourself," Blind Seer rumbled. "Promise me. No more cutting."
"No more than has already been done," Firekeeper promised.
So Blind Seer stepped forward and shouldered the jaguar a few steps back from the blackened block of silver.
Truth did not resist. Perhaps she sensed that the wolf was trying to help her. Firekeeper was glad. A fight between the
pair would have been ugly indeed. As soon as she could, Firekeeper slid herself into the narrow space between Blind
Seer and the wall.
Deftly, she unbound the blood-sodden rag from about her thigh. It was damp enough to dapple droplets onto the
floor, and make the knot hard to untie.
Once Firekeeper had the cloth free, she rubbed the bloody thing against the tarnished silver block. Almost
instantly there was a transformation. The blackened metal soaked up the wet blood, seeming to drink it.
Where the rag touched the block it left behind a surface that was not only shining, but rapidly becoming
transparent. Then it was not there at all.
A breeze moved the air in the enclosed chamber, carrying with it a form as tenuous as moonlight. It leapt over
Blind Seer, and sank into Truth. The jaguar trembled from head to tail, stiffened, then crumpled onto the floor as if her
paws could not bear the added weight of her soul.
Firekeeper felt the air around her eddy, then still. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that the opening had
closed once more. Only a shining square of silver remained, twisting the reflection of her worried frown into a
mocking leer.
***
As BODY AND SOUL REJOINED, Truth fell into darkness, and in that darkness the mocking-voiced one waited.
Yet there was no mockery in his voice now, only a dreadful sincerity that commanded her full attention.
"They are going to ask you about this place," the voice said. 'Tell them what you know."
"I know nothing," Truth said, sulkily. "Who are you?"
"A friend," the other replied. "Haven't I proved it? All I ask is for you to remember what I did for you - consider
that later."
"Later?"
"Trust me. You'll know exactly what I mean."
"You ask for a great deal of trust."
"I led you out, didn't I?"
Truth felt her body around her, aware of heartbeat and breath as never before, and was forced to agree.
"Remember," the voice said. "And now, I will let you awaken. Until we meet again, Truth."
"Again?"
"Surely you know all things are possible, O gifted one." The mockery had returned to the voice. "And the omens
favor some things more than others."
Truth sensed that the source of the voice was gone. In another breath, she smelled - really smelled - others around
her. There were sounds - real sounds - and she knew them for voices. She opened her outer lids, and the light was not
too bright.
Opening her inner lids, she pushed up to rest on her paws and breastbone, aware how limp and sore her muscles
were, but then - images from her body's memory flooded her mind - she had hardly moved for days now.
"I'm thirsty," she rasped.
***
PLIK HARDLY KNEW whether he was relieved or not. when Firekeeper emerged from the dark rooms behind
the silver door, the limp body of Truth hanging heavily in her arms. For a moment, he thought the jaguar was dead,
even though his nose caught none of the staleness of death.
When Truth awoke, and even spoke and drank, Plik felt y and relief, but no abatement in his confusion. Blind
Seer's account as to how Truth's spirit had apparently come forth from a silver block did not help much. Plik pressed
back confusion by concentrating on immediate problems.
"Can someone," Plik said, "tell me what is behind that silver door other than a room with a silver block set in the
wall?"
Firekeeper still stood in the doorway, obviously determined that the silver door would not slam shut without
warning.
"We did not see much," the wolf-woman said, "for our attention was on Truth, but the door seems to open into a
suite or apartment. I think we might risk another, closer look. Blind Seer and I neither saw nor smelled any stranger."
She looked at Truth for confirmation.
"I think exploring should be safe," the jaguar said, "but let us make certain someone stays to hold the doorway. It
does not like being open - and I think opening it again will be difficult, at least until the moon is right."
That reminded Plik of another question. "Firekeeper, what made you think of using blood to finish the opening
ritual?"
Firekeeper's dark eyes were troubled. "Remember last year? What Shivadtmon did? What Dantarahma is said to
have done? These involved blood, so I thought..."
She shrugged, and obviously did not wish to say more. Knowing her aversion to magic - indeed, sharing it after
what he had seen - Plik did not press her further, though every part of him wanted to argue with her rather than be in
sympathy. Instead, he looked at the jaguar.
"Truth, how did you come here? I cannot believe it was mere chance."
The jaguar lifted her head. "I was guided here, and before you ask, I have no idea who that guide was, nor for
what purpose he took pity on me."
"He?" Firekeeper asked, her husky tones focused and fierce. "Then you saw him?"
"Never," Truth replied. "I heard him - a voice, sweet but mocking. He had the arrogance of an eagle screeching
contempt at the land-bound."
Plik heard Rascal - safely above the trench - add, "Or a jaguar in her Year."
Truth did not hear, or if she did she did not choose to comment. "That voice was the one solid thing in ... Do not
make me remember where I was when I first heard it. I admit, I am afraid of being drawn back. There was a voice. It
called me to it. I followed and found myself in this place, but locked behind the silver block. The voice's owner did not
bring me through, but told me that there was a door, and if that door was opened I would be united with myself again."
"And did he name me as the door opener?" Firekeeper asked.
"He might have," Truth said. "Yes. He did. I do not recall asking for you, but I suppose I must have done so, for
you are here, and I am free."
Blind Seer growled. Plik thought he did not envy the owner of the voice that had spoken to Truth - no matter who
he was or what power he might wield. This voice had earned Blind Seer's enmity, and the blue-eyed wolf would be a
deadly opponent.
Something you should remember, Plik reminded himself.
"Could this place be a tomb?" Truth said, so hesitantly that Plik could hardly believe it was the jaguar who spoke. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]