rj.acrownofswords-第156部分

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er　of　the　sun　shone　through　a　colonnaded　walk。　The　residue　of　Sammael's　gateway　hung　in　the　air；　the　dissipating　flows　like　faintly　glowing　ghosts。　Not　so　faint　Rand　could　not　make　them　out；　though。　He　began　to　weave；　then　stopped。　He　had　leaped　up　here　without　a　thought　of　a　trap。　If　he　copied　what　he　saw　exactly；　he　would　step　out　wherever　Sammael　had；　or　so　close　as　made　no　difference。　But　with　just　a　slight　alteration；　no　way　to　be　sure　whether　the　change　was　fifty　feet　or　five　hundred；　yet　either　was　close　enough。
　　　The　vertical　silver　slash　began　to　rotate　open；　revealing　the　shadow…cloaked　ruins　of　greatness；　not　quite　as　dark　as　the　hallway。　Seen　through　the　gateway；　the　sun　was　a　slightly　thicker　slice　of　red；　half…hidden　by　a　shattered　dome。　He　knew　that　place。　The　last　time　he　had　gone　there；　he　had　added　a　name　to　that　list　of　Maidens　in　his　head；　the　first　time；　Padan　Fain　had　followed　and　bee　more　than　a　Darkfriend；　worse　than　a　Darkfriend。　That　Sammael　had　fled　to　Shadar　Logoth　seemed　like　ing　full　circle　in　more　ways　that　one。　There　was　no　time　to　waste　now　that　he　was　opening　the　way。　Before　the　gateway　stopped　widening；　he　ran　through　into　the　ravaged　city　that　once　had　been　called　Aridhol；　ran　limping；　letting　the　weave　go　as　he　ran；　boots　crunching　on　broken　paving　stones　and　dead　weeds。
　　　The　first　corner　he　came　to；　he　ducked　around。　The　ground　shook　under　his　feet　as　roars　sounded　back　the　way　he　had　e；　light　flashing　atop　flash　in　the　twilight　darkness；　he　felt　the　wash　of　Earth　and　Fire　and　Air。　Shrieks　and　bellows　rose　through　the　thunderous　crashes。　Saidin　pulsing　inside　him；　he　hobbled　away　without　looking　back。　He　ran；　and　with　the　Power　filling　him；　even　in　the　dark　shadows　he　could　see　clearly。
　　　All　around　the　great　city　lay；　huge　marble　palaces　each　with　four　and　five　domes　of　different　shapes　painted　crimson　by　the　setting　sun；　bronze　fountains　and　statues　at　every　intersection；　great　stretches　of　columns　running　to　towers　that　soared　across　the　sun。　They　soared　when　intact；　at　least；　more　ended　in　abrupt　jaggedness　than　not。　For　every　dome　that　stood　whole；　ten　were　broken　eggshells　with　the　top　hacked　off　or　one　side　gone。　Statues　lay　toppled　in　fragments；　or　stood　with　missing　arms；　or　heads。　Swiftly　deepening　darkness　raced　across　sprawling　hills　of　rubble；　the　few　stunted　trees　clinging　to　their　slopes　twisted　shapes　like　broken　fingers　against　the　sky。
　　　A　fan　of　bricks　and　stone　spread　across　the　way　from　what　might　have　been　a　small　palace；　half　its　front　missing；　the　rest　of　the　columned　fa？ade　leaned　drunkenly　toward　the　street。　He　stopped　in　the　middle　of　the　street；　just　short　of　the　fan；　waiting；　feeling　for　another　to　use　saidin。　Clinging　to　the　sides　of　the　street　was　not　a　good　idea；　and　not　simply　because　any　building　might　fall　at　any　time。　A　thousand　unseen　eyes　seemed　to　watch　from　windows　like　gouged　eye　sockets；　to　watch　with　a　nearly　palpable　sense　of　anticipation。　Distantly　he　felt　the　new　wound　in　his　side　throbbing；　a　slash　of　flame；　echoing　the　evil　that　clung　to　the　very　dust　of　Shadar　Logoth。　The　old　scar　clenched　like　a　fist。　The　pain　of　his　foot　seemed　very　distant　indeed。　Closer；　the　Void　itself　pulsated　around　him；　the　Dark　One's　taint　on　saidin　beating　in　time　with　the　knife　slash　across　his　ribs。　A　dangerous　place　by　daylight；　Shadar　Logoth。　By　night。。。
　　　Down　the　street；　beyond　a　spired　monument　miraculously　standing　straight；　something　moved；　a　shadowed　shape　darting　across　the　way　in　the　darkness。　Rand　almost　channeled；　but　he　could　not　believe　Sammael　would　go　scuddling　that　way。　When　he　first　stepped　into　the　city；　when　Sammael　tried　to　destroy　everything　around　his　gateway；　he　had　heard　horrible　screams。　They　had　barely　registered；　then。　Nothing　lived　in　Shadar　Logoth；　not　even　rats。　Sammael　must　have　brought　henchmen；　fellows　he　did　not　mind　killing　in　an　attempt　to　reach　Rand。　Maybe　one　of　them　could　lead　Rand　to　Sammael。　He　hurried　forward　as　fast　as　he　could；　as　soundlessly　as　he　could。　Shattered　pavement　crunched　under　his　boots　with　a　sound　like　bones　snapping。　He　hoped　it　was　loud　only　to　his　saidin…enhanced　ears。
　　　Stopping　at　the　base　of　the　spire；　a　thick　stone　needle　covered　with　flowing　script；　he　peered　ahead。　Whoever　had　moved　was　gone；　only　fools　or　the　madly　brave　went　inside　in　Shadar　Logoth　at　night。　The　evil　that　stained　Shadar　Logoth；　the　evil　that　had　murdered　Aridhol；　had　not　died　with　Aridhol。　Farther　along　the　street；　a　tendril　of　silver…gray　fog　wavered　out　of　a　window；　creeping　toward　another　that　came　to　meet　it　from　a　wide　gap　in　a　high　stone　wall。　The　depths　of　that　gap　shone　as　though　a　full　moon　lay　inside。　With　the　night；　Mashadar　roamed　its　city　prison；　a　vast　presence　that　could　appear　in　a　dozen　places　at　once；　a　hundred。　Mashadar's　touch　was　not　a　pleasant　way　to　die。　Inside　Rand；　the　taint　on　saidin　beat　harder；　the　distant　fire　in　his　side　flickered　like　ten　thousand　lightnings；　one　on　top　of　the　last。　Even　the　ground　seemed　to　pound　beneath　his　boots。
　　　He　turned；　half…thinking　to　leave　now。　Very　likely；　Sammael　had　gone；　now　that　Mashadar　was　out。　Very　likely　the　man　had　lured　him　here　in　the　hope　he　would　search　the　ruins　until　Mashadar　killed　him。　He　turned；　and　stopped；　crouching　against　the　spire。　Two　Trollocs　were　creeping　down　that　street；　bulky　shapes　in　black　mail；　half　again　as　tall　as　he；　or　more。　Spikes　stood　out　on　the　shoulders　and　elbows　of　their　armor；　and　they　carried　spears　with　long　black　points　and　wicked　hooks。　To　his　saidin…filled　eyes；　their　faces　stood　out　clearly；　one　distorted　by　an　eagle's　beak　where　mouth　and　nose　should　have　been；　the　other　by　a　boar's　tusked　snout。　Every　line　of　their　creeping　shouted　fear；　Trollocs　loved　killing；　loved　blood；　but　Shadar　Logoth　terrified　them。　There　would　be　Myrddraal　about；　no　Trolloc　would　have　entered　this　city　without　Myrddraal　to　drive　it。　No　Myrddraal　would　have　entered　without　Sammael　driving。　All　of　which　meant　Sammael　must　still　be　here；　or　these　Trollocs　would　be　running　for　the　gates；　not　hunting。　And　they　were　hunting。　That　boar's　snout　was　snuffling　the　air　for　a　scent。
　　　Abruptly　a　figure　in　rags　leaped　from　a　window　above　the　Trollocs；　falling　on　them　with　spear　already　stabbing。　An　Aiel；　a　woman；　shoufa　wrapped　around　her　head　but　veil　hanging。　The　eagle…beaked　Trolloc　shrieked　as　her　spearpoint　stabbed　deep　into　its　side；　stabbed　again。　As　its　panion　fell；　kicking；　boar…snout　spun　with　snarl；　thrusting　viciously；　but　she　ducked　low　under　the　black　hooked　point　and　stabbed　up　into　the　creature's　stomach；　and　it　went　down　in　a　thrashing　heap　with　the　other。
　　　Rand　was　on　his　feet　and　running　before　he　thought。　〃Liah！〃　he　shouted。　He　had　thought　her　dead；　abandoned　here　by　him；　dead　for　him。　Liah；　of　the　Cosaida　Chareen；　that　name　blazed　on　the　list　in　his　head。
　　　She　whirled　to　confront　him；　spear　ready　in　one　hand；　round　bull…hide　buckler　in　the　other。　The　face　he　remembered　as　pretty　despite　scars　on　both　cheeks　was　contorted　with　rage。　〃Mine！〃　she　hissed　threateningly　through　her　teeth。　〃Mine！　No　one　may　e　here！　No　one！〃
　　　He　stopped　in　his　tracks。　That　spear　waited；　eager　to　seek　his　ribs　too。　〃Liah；　you　know　me；〃　he　said　softly。　〃You　know　me。　I'll　take　you　back　to　the　Maidens；　back　to　your　spear…sisters。〃　He　held　out　his　hand。
　　　Her　rage　melted　into　a　twisted　frown。　She　tilted　her　head　to　one　side。　〃Rand　al'Thor？〃　she　said　slowly。　Her　eyes　widened；　falling　to　the　dead　Trollocs；　and　a　look　of　horror　spread　across　her　face。　〃Rand　al'Thor；〃　she　whispered；　fumbling　the　black　veil　into　place　across　her　face　with　the　hand　that　held　her　spear。　〃The　Car'a'carn！〃　she　wailed。　And　fled。
　　　He　hobbled　after　her；　scrambling　over　piles　of　rubble　spread　across　the　street；　falling；　ripping　his　coat；　falling　again　and　nearly　ripping　it　off；　rolling　and　picking　himself　up　on　the　run。　The　weakness　of　his　body　was　distant；　and　the　pain　of　it；　but　even　floating　deep　in　the　Void；　he　could　only　push　that　body　so　hard。　Liah　vanished　into　the　night。　Around　the　next　black…shadowed　corner；　he　thought。
　　　He　limped　around　that　as　fast　as　he　could。　And　nearly　ran　into　four　black　mailed　Trollocs　and　a　Myrddraal；　inky　cloak　hanging　unnaturally　still　down　its　back　as　the　Fade　moved。　The　Trollocs　snarled　in　surprise；　yet　shock　lasted　less　than　a　heartbeat。　Hooked　spears　and　scythe…curved　swords　rose；　the　Myrddraal's　dead…black　blade　was　in　its　fist；　a　blade　that　gave　wounds　almost　as　deadly　as　Fain's　dagger。
　　　Rand　did　not　even　try　to　draw　the　heron…mark　sword　at　his　side。　Death　in　a　tattered　red　coat；　he　channeled；　and　a　sword　of　fire　was　in　his　hands；　pulsing　darkly　with　the　throb　of　saidin；　sweeping　an　eyeless　head　from　its　shoulders。　Simpler　to　have　destroyed　them　all　the　way　he　had　seen　the　Asha'man　kill　at　Dumai's　Wells；　but　changing　the　weaves　now；　trying　to　change；　might　take　a　fatal　moment。　Those　swords　could　kill　even　him。　He　danced　the　forms　in　a　darkness　lit　by　the　flame　in　his　hands；　shadows　flying　across　faces　above　him；　faces　with　wolves'　muzzles　and　goats'　faces　contorted　in　screams　as　his　fiery　blade　sliced　through　black　mail　and　the　flesh　beneath　as　if　they　were　water。　Trollocs　depended　on　numbers　and　overwhelming　ferocity；　facing　him；　and　that　sword　of　the　Power；　they　might　as　well　have　stood　stock…still；　unarmed。
　　　The　sword　vanished　from　his　hands。　Still　poised　at　the　end　of　the　form　called　Twisting　the　Wind；　he　stood　among　death。　The　last　Trolloc　to　fall　still　thrashed；　goat　horns　scraping　on　the　fragmented　pavement。　The　headless　Myrddraal　yet　flung　its　arms　about；　of　course；　booted　feet　scrabbling　wildly；　Halfmen　did　not　die　quickly；　even　headless。
　　　No　sooner　did　the　sword　disappear　than　silver　lightning　lanced　down　from　the　cloudless；　starry　sky。
　　　The　first　bolt　struck　with　a　deafening　roar　not　four　paces　away。　The　world　turned　white；　and　the　Void　collapsed。　The　ground　bounced　under　him　as　another　bolt　struck；　and　another。　He　had　not　realized　he　was　on　his　face　until　then。　The　air　crackled。　Dazed；　he　pushed　himself　up；　half　falling　as　he　ran　from　a　hail　of　lightning　that　ripped　the　street　apart　to　a　thunder　of　collapsing　buildings。　Straight　ahead　he　staggered；　not　cari