tw.thestoneoffarewell-第78部分

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f　evil　masters；　unless　you　kill　me　first。〃
　　Pryrates　eyes　widened　in　mock…astonishment。　〃Ah　So　the　little　priest　has　teeth！　Well；　then；　we　shall　play　the　game　your　way。。。　and　I　will　show　you　some　teeth　of　my　own。〃　He　lifted　his　hands　over　his　head。　The　alchemist's　scarlet　robes　billowed　as　though　a　wild　wind　gusted　through　the　hallway。　The　torches　rippled　in　their　sockets；　then　blew　out。
　　〃And　remember　this　。。。〃　Pryrates　hissed　in　darkness。　〃I　mand　the　Words　of　Changing　now！　I　am　no　one's　servant！〃
　　The　Tree　m　Dinivan's　hand　flared　more　brightly；　but　Pryrates　remained　sunken　in　shadow。　The　alchemist's　voice　rose；　chanting　in　a　language　whose　very　sound　made　Dinivan's　ears　ache　and　wrapped　a　band　of　agony　about　his　throat。
　　〃In　the　name　of　God　the　Highest。。。〃　Dinivan　shouted；　but　as　Pryrates'　chant　mounted　toward　a　triumphant　climax　it　seemed　to　tear　the　words　of　prayer　from　his　mouth　almost　before　they　were　spoken。　Dinivan　choked。　〃In　the　name　of。　。　。〃　His　voice　fell　silent。　In　the　shadows　before　him；　Pryrates'　spell　had　bee　a　grunting；　gasping　parody　of　speech　as　the　alchemist　suffered　through　some　agonizing　transformation
　　Where　Pryrates　had　stood　a　roiling；　unrecognizable　shadow　now　flailed；　writhing　in　knotted　loops　that　grew　larger　and　larger　until　even　the　starlight　was　blotted　out　and　the　hallway　sank　into　unbreachable　blackness。　Ponderous　lungs　wheezed　like　a　blacksmith's　bellows。　A　deadening；　ancient　cold　filled　the　corridor　with　unseen　frost。
　　Dinivan　flung　himself　forward　with　a　shout　of　terrified　rage；　trying　to　strike　the　invisible　thing　with　his　Holy　Tree；　but　instead　found　himself　caught　up　like　a　doll　by　some　massive　yet　horribly　insubstantial　appendage。　They　struggled；　lost　in　the　freezing　darkness。　Dinivan　gasped　as　he　felt　something　pushing　its　way　into　his　terrified　thoughts；　scraping　inside　his　head　with　burning　fingers；　trying　to　pry　open　his　very　mind　like　a　jam　jar。　He　fought　back　with　all　his　strength；　struggling　to　hold　the　image　of　Holy　Aedon　in　his　flickering　thoughts；　he　thought　he　heard　the　thing　that　held　him　gasp　in　pain。
　　But　the　shadow　only　seemed　to　grow　more　substantial。　Its　grip　tightened　around　him；　a　horrible　bone…cracking　fist　of　jelly　and　lead。　Sour；　cold　breath　fluttered　against　his　cheek　like　the　kiss　of　nightmare。
　　〃In　the　name　of　God　。　。　。　and　the　League　。　。　〃　Dinivan　groaned。　The　animal　noises　and　terrible　labored　breathing　began　to　fade　away。　Angels　of　painful；　burning　light　filled　his　head；　dancing　to　wele　the　darkness；　deafening　him　with　their　silent　song。
　　
　　Cadrach　dragged　Miriamele's　limp　form　out　into　the　hallway；　swearing　panicky　oaths　to　various　saints；　gods；　and　demons。　The　only　light　was　the　thin　blue　of　starlight　bleeding　in　through　the　windows　high　overhead；　but　it　was　difficult　not　to　see　the　huddled　figure　of　the　priest　laying　like　a　discarded　puppet　in　the　center　of　the　corridor　a　few　steps　away。　It　was　equally　impossible　to　ignore　the　ghastly　cries　and　shrieks　ing　from　the　lector's　chamber　at　the　end　of　the　hall；　where　the　thick　wooden　door　lay　splintered　across　the　floor。
　　The　noises　ceased　abruptly；　ending　on　a　drawn…out　wail　of　despair　that　dwindled　at　last　to　a　gurgling　hiss。　Cadrach's　face　filled　with　horror。　He　bent　and　swept　up　the　princess；　heaving　her　over　his　shoulder；　then　crouched　awkwardly　to　pick　up　their　bag　of　possessions。　He　straightened　and　staggered　away　from　the　destruction　at　the　far　end　of　the　hall；　fighting　to　stay　on　his　feet。
　　Around　the　corner　the　passageway　widened；　but　there　also　the　torches　had　been　extinguished。　He　thought　he　could　see　the　shadowy　forms　of　armored　men　standing　sentry；　but　they　were　motionless　as　relics。　The　unhurried　echo　of　booted　feet　sounded　in　the　arched　hall　behind　him。　Cadrach　hurried　forward；　cursing　the　slippery　tiles。
　　The　passage　turned　once　more；　opening　into　the　great　entrance　chamber；　but　as　he　scurried　through　the　arch　he　struck　something　solid　as　a　wall　of　adamant；　although　he　had　seen　nothing　in　the　doorway　but　air。　Stunned；　he　tripped　and　tumbled　backward。　Miriamele　slid　from　his　shoulder　to　the　hard　floor。
　　The　sound　of　approaching　bootheels　grew　louder。　Cadrach　reached　forward　in　a　fit　of　panic；　encountering　an　unnatural　wall；　an　invisible　but　unyielding　something。　More　transparent　than　crystal；　it　showed　clearly　every　detail　of　the　torchlit　chamber　beyond。
　　〃Ah；　please；　don't　let　him　have　her；〃　the　monk　murmured；　clawing　with　desperate　fingers；　searching　for　some　flaw　in　the　invisible　barrier。　〃Please！〃
　　His　questing　was　in　vain。　The　wall　was　seamless。
　　Cadrach　kneeled　before　the　doorway；　head　slowly　sinking　to　his　chest　as　the　approaching　footfalls　grew　louder。　The　unmovmg　monk　might　have　been　a　prisoner　waiting　at　the　executioner's　block。　Suddenly；　he　looked　up。
　　〃Wait'〃　he　hissed。　〃Think；　idiot　man；　think！〃　He　shook　his　head　and　took　a　deep　breath；　then　released　it　and　took　one　more。　He　held　his　palm　before　the　archway　and　spoke　a　single　quiet　word。　A　wash　of　cold　air　blew　past　him；　ruffling　the　tapestries　in　the　entrance　chamber。　The　barrier　was　gone。
　　He　dragged　Miriamele　through；　pulling　her　across　the　floor　and　into　one　of　the　archways　opening　off　the　grand　chamber。　They　disappeared　from　sight　just　as　Pryrates'　red…robed　figure　appeared　in　the　doorway　where　the　unseen　impediment　had　been。　Dim　sounds　of　alarm　were　beginning　to　filter　through　the　halls。
　　The　red　pnest　paused　as　though　surprised　to　find　his　barrier　gone。　Nevertheless；　he　turned　and　sketched　a　gesture　in　the　direction　from　which　he　had　e；　as　though　to　sweep　away　whatever　traces　of　his　handiwork　might　remain。
　　His　voice　boomed；　reverberating　down　the　corridors　in　all　directions。　〃Murder！〃　he　cried。　〃Murderers　are　in　God's　house！〃　As　the　echoes　died　away　he　smiled　briefly　and　set　off　toward　the　chambers　where　he　stayed　as　the　lector's　guest。
　　Struck　by　a　thought；　Pryrates　stopped　suddenly　in　the　archway　and　turned　to　survey　the　chamber。　He　lifted　his　hand　once　more；　fingers　flexing。　One　of　the　torches　gouted　sparks；　then　spat　out　a　tongue　of　flame　which　leaped　across　to　a　row　of　tapestries　lining　the　wall　The　ancient　weavings　blazed；　fire　licking　upward　at　the　great　ceiling　beams　and　spreading　rapidly　from　wail　to　wall。　In　the　hallway　beyond；　other　fires　were　also　blooming。
　　The　alchemist　grinned。　〃One　must　give　omens　their　due；〃　he　said　to　no　one　present；　then　departed　chuckling。　All　around；　the　babble　of　confused　and　frightened　voices　began　to　fill　the　byways　of　the　Sancellan　Aedonitis。
　　
　　Duke　Isgrimnur　congratulated　himself　for　bringing　a　candle。　The　hallway　was　black　as　tar。　Where　were　the　sentries？　Why　weren't　the　torches　lit？
　　Whatever　the　problem　was；　the　Sancellan　was　awakening　all　around　him。　He　heard　someone　shout　boldly　of　murder；　which　set　his　heart　swiftly　beating；　this　was　followed　by　other；　more　distant　cries。　For　a　few　moments　he　considered　returning　to　his　tiny　room；　but　decided　that　perhaps　the　confusion　was　for　the　best。　Whatever　the　cause　of　the　alarm　really　was…and　he　doubted　it　was　murder…it　might　mean　he　would　be　able　to　find　the　lector's　secretary　without　having　to　answer　wearisome　questions　from　the　lector's　guards。
　　The　candle　in　its　wooden　holder　threw　Isgrimnur's　shadow　high　against　the　walls　of　the　great　entrance　hall。　As　the　sounds　of　approaching　discovery　grew；　he　wracked　his　brain　for　the　proper　exit　from　the　chamber。　He　chose　the　archway　that　seemed　likeliest。
　　A　short　distance　past　the　second　turning　of　the　hallway；　he　found　himself　in　a　wide　gallery。　A　robed　figure　lay　sprawled　on　the　floor　amid　a　tangle　of　draperies；　beneath　the　unperturbed　stare　of　several　armed　guards。
　　Are　they　statues；　then？　he　wondered。　But；　damn　me；　statuary　never　looked　like　that。　See；　that　one　there　is　leaning　as　though　he　were　whispering　to　the　other。　He　stared　up　at　the　unseeing　eyes　that　gleamed　within　the　helms　and　felt　his　skin　crawling。　Aedon　save　us。　Black　sorcery；　that's　what　it　is。
　　To　his　despair；　he　recognized　the　body　on　the　floor　the　moment　he　turned　it　over。　Dinivan's　face　seemed　bluish；　even　by　the　dim　candlelight。　Thin　stripes　of　blood　had　run　forward　from　his　ears；　drying　on　his　cheek　like　red　tears。　His　body　felt　like　a　sack　of　broken　twigs。
　　〃Elysia；　Mother　of　God；　what's　happened　here？〃　the　duke　groaned　aloud。
　　Dinivan's　eyes　fluttered　open；　startling　Isgimnur　so　that　he　almost　let　the　priest's　head　fall　back　against　the　tiles。　Dinivan's　gaze　wandered　for　a　moment　before　fixing　on　him。　It　might　have　been　the　candle　Isgrimnur　awkwardly　held；　but　the　priest's　eyes　seemed　to　burn　with　a　strange　spark。　Whatever　the　case；　Isgrimnur　knew　it　was　a　spark　that　would　not　last　long。
　　〃Lector　。。。〃　Dinivan　breathed。　Isgrimnur　leaned　closer。　〃Look。。。　to。。。　lector。〃
　　〃Dinivan；　it's　me；〃　he　said。　〃Duke　Isgrimnur。　I've　e　looking　for　Miriamele。〃
　　〃Lector；〃　the　priest　said　stubbornly；　his　bloodied　lips　struggling　to　form　the　word。　Isgrimnur　sat　up。
　　〃Very　well。〃　He　looked　helplessly　for　something　to　cushion　the　priest's　wounded　head；　but　could　find　nothing。　He　let　Dinivan　down；　then　rose　and　walked　to　the　end　of　the　hallway。　There　was　little　doubt　which　room　was　the　lector's…the　door　lay　in　great　shards；　and　even　the　marble　around　the　door…frame　was　scorched　and　crumbled。　There　was　even　less　doubt　about　Lector　Ranessm's　fate。　Isgrimnur　took　one　look　around　the　ruined　chamber；　then　turned　and　retreated　hurriedly　into　the　corridor。　Blood；　had　been　smeared　across　the　walls　as　if　by　a　huge　brush。　The　mangled　forms　of　Mother　Church's　leader　and　his　young　servant　were　barely　recognizable　as　human：　their　corpses　had　been　spared　no　indignities。　Even　Isgrimnur's　old　soldier's　heart　quailed　at　the　sight　of　so　much　blood。
　　Flames　were　flickenng　in　the　far　archway　when　the　duke　returned；　but　he　steeled　himself　to　ignore　them　for　a　moment。　Time　for　thought　of　escape　later。　He　took　Dinivan's　cold　hand。
　　〃The　lector　is　dead。　Can　you　help　me　find　Princess　Miriamele？〃
　　The　priest　breathed　raggedly　for　a　moment。　The　light　in　his　eyes　was　fading。　〃She's。。。　here；〃　he　said　slowly。　〃Called。。。　Malachias。　Ask　room…warden。〃　He　gasped　for　air。　〃Take　her　。。。　to　。。。　Kwanitupul　。　。to　Pelippa's　Bowl。　Tiamak　is　。