sk.thetalisman-第22节

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　　The　man　hauled　him　into　another；　narrower　corridor。　The　interior　of　the　palace　did　not　at　all　resemble　the　inside　of　a　tent；　Jack　saw。　It　was　a　mazelike　warren　of　passages　and　little　rooms；　and　it　smelled　of　smoke　and　grease。
　　'Promise！'　the　Captain　bawled　out。
　　'I　promise！　I　do！'
　　Ahead　of　them　as　they　emerged　from　yet　another　corridor；　a　group　of　elaborately　clothed　men　either　leaning　against　a　wall　or　draped　over　couches　turned　their　heads　to　look　at　this　noisy　duo。　One　of　them；　who　had　been　amusing　himself　by　giving　orders　to　a　pair　of　women　carrying　stacks　of　sheets　folded　flat　across　their　arms；　glanced　suspiciously　at　Jack　and　the　Captain。
　　'And　I　promise　to　beat　the　sin　out　of　you；'　the　Captain　said　loudly。
　　A　couple　of　the　men　laughed。　They　wore　soft　wide…brimmed　hats　trimmed　with　fur　and　their　boots　were　of　velvet。　They　had　greedy；　thoughtless　faces。　The　man　talking　to　the　maids；　the　one　who　seemed　to　be　in　charge；　was　skeletally　tall　and　thin。　His　tense；　ambitious　face　tracked　the　boy　and　the　soldier　as　they　hurried　by。
　　'Please　don't！'　Jack　wailed。　'Please！'
　　'Each　please　is　another　strapping；'　the　soldier　growled；　and　the　men　laughed　again。　The　thin　one　permitted　himself　to　display　a　smile　as　cold　as　a　knife…blade　before　he　turned　back　to　the　maids。
　　The　Captain　yanked　the　boy　into　an　empty　room　filled　with　dusty　wooden　furniture。　Then　at　last　he　released　Jack's　aching　arm。　'Those　were　his　men；'　he　whispered。　'What　life　will　be　like　when…'　He　shook　his　head；　and　for　a　moment　seemed　to　forget　his　haste。　'It　says　in　The　Book　of　Good　Farming　that　the　meek　shall　inherit　the　earth；　but　those　fellows　don't　have　a　teaspoonful　of　meekness　among　them。　Taking's　all　they're　good　for。　They　want　wealth；　they　want…'　He　glanced　upward；　unwilling　or　unable　to　say　what　else　the　men　outside　wanted。　Then　he　looked　back　at　the　boy。　'We'll　have　to　be　quick　about　this；　but　there　are　still　a　few　secrets　his　men　haven't　learned　about　the　palace。'　He　nodded　sideways；　indicating　a　faded　wooden　wall。
　　Jack　followed　him；　and　understood　when　the　Captain　pushed　two　of　the　flat　brown　nailheads　left　exposed　at　the　end　of　a　dusty　board。　A　panel　in　the　faded　wall　swung　inward；　exposing　a　narrow　black　passageway　no　taller　than　an　upended　coffin。　'You'll　only　get　a　glimpse　of　her；　but　I　suppose　that's　all　you　need。　It's　all　you　can　have；　anyhow。'
　　The　boy　followed　the　silent　instruction　to　slip　into　the　passageway。　'Just　go　straight　ahead　until　I　tell　you；'　the　Captain　whispered。　When　he　closed　the　panel　behind　them；　Jack　began　to　move　slowly　forward　through　perfect　blackness。
　　The　passage　wound　this　way　and　that；　occasionally　illuminated　by　faint　light　spilling　in　through　a　crack　in　a　concealed　door　or　through　a　window　set　above　the　boy's　head。　Jack　soon　lost　all　sense　of　direction；　and　blindly　followed　the　whispered　directions　of　his　panion。　At　one　point　he　caught　the　delicious　odor　of　roasting　meat；　at　another　the　unmistakable　stink　of　sewage。
　　'Stop；'　the　Captain　finally　said。　'Now　I'll　have　to　lift　you　up。　Raise　your　arms。'
　　'Will　I　be　able　to　see？'
　　'You'll　know　in　a　second；'　the　Captain　said；　and　put　a　hand　just　beneath　each　of　Jack's　armpits　and　lifted　him　cleanly　off　the　floor。　'There　is　a　panel　in　front　of　you　now；'　he　whispered。　'Slide　it　to　the　left。'　
　　Jack　blindly　reached　out　before　him　and　touched　smooth　wood。　It　slid　easily　aside；　and　enough　light　fell　into　the　passage　for　him　to　see　a　kitten…sized　spider　scrambling　toward　the　ceiling。　He　was　looking　down　into　a　room　the　size　of　a　hotel　lobby；　filled　with　women　in　white　and　furniture　so　ornate　that　it　brought　back　to　the　boy　all　the　museums　he　and　his　parents　had　visited。　In　the　center　of　the　room　a　woman　lay　sleeping　or　unconscious　on　an　immense　bed；　only　her　head　and　shoulders　visible　above　the　sheet。
　　And　then　Jack　nearly　shouted　with　shock　and　terror；　because　the　woman　on　the　bed　was　his　mother。　That　was　his　mother；　and　she　was　dying。
　　'You　saw　her；'　the　Captain　whispered；　and　braced　his　arms　more　firmly。
　　Open…mouthed；　Jack　stared　in　at　his　mother。　She　was　dying；　he　could　not　doubt　that　any　longer：　even　her　skin　seemed　bleached　and　unhealthy；　and　her　hair；　too；　had　lost　several　shades　of　color。　The　nurses　around　her　bustled　about；　straightening　the　sheets　or　rearranging　books　on　a　table；　but　they　assumed　this　busy　and　purposeful　manner　because　they　had　no　real　idea　of　how　to　help　their　patient。　The　nurses　knew　that　for　such　a　patient　there　was　no　real　help。　If　they　could　stave　off　death　for　another　month；　or　even　a　week；　they　were　at　the　fullest　extent　of　their　powers。
　　He　looked　back　at　the　face　turned　upward　like　a　waxen　mask　and　finally　saw　that　the　woman　on　the　bed　was　not　his　mother。　Her　chin　was　rounder；　the　shape　of　her　nose　slightly　more　classical。　The　dying　woman　was　his　mother's　Twinner；　it　was　Laura　DeLoessian。　If　Speedy　had　wanted　him　to　see　more；　he　was　not　capable　of　it：　that　white　moveless　face　told　him　nothing　of　the　woman　behind　it。
　　'Okay；'　he　whispered；　pushing　the　panel　back　into　place；　and　the　Captain　lowered　him　to　the　floor。
　　In　the　darkness　he　asked；　'What's　wrong　with　her？'
　　'Nobody　can　find　that　out；'　came　from　above　him。　'The　Queen　cannot　see；　she　cannot　speak；　she　cannot　move　'　There　was　silence　for　a　moment；　and　then　the　Captain　touched　his　hand　and　said；　'We　must　return。'　They　quietly　emerged　from　blackness　into　the　dusty　empty　room。　The　Captain　brushed　ropy　cobwebs　from　the　front　of　his　uniform。　His　head　cocked　to　one　side；　he　considered　Jack　for　a　long　moment；　worry　very　plain　upon　his　face。　'Now　you　must　answer　a　question　of　mine；'　he　said。
　　'Yes。'
　　'Were　you　sent　here　to　save　her？　To　save　the　Queen？'　
　　Jack　nodded。　'I　think　so…I　think　that's　part　of　it。　Tell　me　just　one　thing。'　He　hesitated。　'Why　don't　those　creeps　out　there　just　take　over？　She　sure　couldn't　stop　them。'　
　　The　Captain　smiled。　There　was　no　humor　in　that　smile。　'Me；'　he　said。　'My　men。　We'd　stop　them。　I　know　not　what　they　may　have　gotten　up　to　in　the　Outposts；　where　order　is　thin…but　here　we　hold　to　the　Queen。'　
　　A　muscle　just　below　the　eye　on　the　unscarred　cheekbone　jumped　like　a　fish。　He　was　pressing　his　hands　together；　palm　to　palm。　'And　your　directions；　your　orders；　whatever；　are　to　。　。　。　ah；　to　go　west；　is　that　correct？'　
　　Jack　could　practically　feel　the　man　vibrating；　controlling　his　growing　agitation　only　from　a　lifetime's　habit　of　self…discipline。　'That's　right；'　he　said。　'I'm　supposed　to　go　west。　Isn't　that　right？　Shouldn't　I　go　west？　To　the　other　Alhambra？'
　　'I　can't　say；　I　can't　say；'　the　Captain　blurted；　taking　a　step　backward。　'We　have　to　get　you　out　of　here　right　now。　I　can't　tell　you　what　to　do。'　He　could　not　even　look　at　Jack　now；　the　boy　saw。　'But　you　can't　stay　here　a　minute　longer…let's；　ah；　let's　see　if　we　can　get　you　out　and　away　before　Morgan　gets　here。'
　　'Morgan？'　Jack　said；　almost　thinking　that　he　had　not　heard　the　name　correctly。　'Morgan　Sloat？　Is　he　ing　here？'
　　
　　　CHAPTER　7
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　　The　Captain　appeared　not　to　have　heard　Jack's　question。　He　was　looking　away　into　the　corner　of　this　empty　unused　room　as　if　there　were　something　there　to　see。　He　was　thinking　long　and　hard　and　fast；　Jack　recognized　that。　And　Uncle　Tommy　had　taught　him　that　interrupting　an　adult　who　was　thinking　hard　was　just　as　impolite　as　interrupting　an　adult　who　was　speaking。　But…
　　Steer　clear　of　ole　Bloat。　Watch　for　his　trail…his　own　and　his　Twinner's　。　。　。　he's　gonna　be　after　you　like　a　fox　after　a　goose。
　　Speedy　had　said　that；　and　Jack　had　been　concentrating　so　hard　on　the　Talisman　that　he　had　almost　missed　it。　Now　the　words　came　back　and　came　home　with　a　nasty　double…thud　that　was　like　being　hit　in　the　back　of　the　neck。
　　'What　does　he　look　like？'　he　asked　the　Captain　urgently。　'Morgan？'　the　Captain　asked；　as　if　startled　out　of　some　interior　dream。
　　'Is　he　fat？　Is　he　fat　and　sorta　going　bald？　Does　he　go　like　this　when　he's　mad？'　And　employing　the　innate　gift　for　mimicry　he'd　always　had…a　gift　which　had　made　his　father　roar　with　laughter　even　when　he　was　tired　and　feeling　down…Jack　'did'　Morgan　Sloat。　Age　fell　into　his　face　as　he　laddered　his　brow　the　way　Uncle　Morgan's　brow　laddered　into　lines　when　he　was　pissed　off　about　something。　At　the　same　time；　Jack　sucked　his　cheeks　in　and　pulled　his　head　down　to　create　a　double　chin。　His　lips　flared　out　in　a　fishy　pout　and　he　began　to　waggle　his　eyebrows　rapidly　up　and　down。　'Does　he　go　like　that？'
　　'No；'　the　Captain　said；　but　something　flickered　in　his　eyes；　the　way　something　had　flickered　there　when　Jack　told　him　that　Speedy　Parker　was　old。　'Morgan's　tall。　He　wears　his　hair　long'…the　Captain　held　a　hand　by　his　right　shoulder　to　show　Jack　how　long…'and　he　has　a　limp。　One　foot's　deformed。　He　wears　a　built…up　boot；　but…'　He　shrugged。
　　'You　looked　like　you　knew　him　when　I　did　him！　You…'
　　'Shhh！　Not　so　God…pounding　loud；　boy！'　Jack　lowered　his　voice。　'I　think　I　know　the　guy；'　he　said…and　for　the　first　time　he　felt　fear　as　an　informed　emotion　。　。　。　something　he　could　grasp　in　a　way　he　could　not　as　yet　grasp　this　world。　Uncle　Morgan　here？　Jesus！
　　'Morgan　is　just　Morgan。　No　one　to　fo