cb.imajica2-第10节

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　put　his　hand　on　Gentle's　shoulder。　〃We　were　meant　to　meet　this　way。　That's　why　the　Pivot　kept　silent　all　these　years。　It　was　waiting　for　you　to　e；　and　us　to　be　reunited。〃　His　face　slackened。　〃Don't　be　my　enemy；〃　he　said。　〃The　thought　of…〃
　A　cry　of　alarm　from　outside　the　room　cut　him　short。　He　turned　from　Gentle　and　started　towards　the　door　as　a　soldier　appeared　in　the　passageway　beyond；　his　throat　opened；　his　hand　ineptly　staunching　the　spurts。　He　stumbled　and　fell　against　the　wall；　sliding　to　the　ground。
　〃The　mob　must　be　here；〃　Sartori　remarked；　with　a　hint　of　satisfaction。　〃It's　time　to　make　your　decision；　brother。　Do　we　go　on　from　here　together；　or　shall　I　rule　the　Fifth　alone？〃
　A　new　din　rose；　loud　enough　to　blot　out　any　further　exchange；　and　Sartori　left　off　his　counseling；　stepping　out　into　the　passageway。
　〃Stay　here；〃　he　told　Gentle。　〃Think　about　it　while　you　wait。〃
　Gentle　ignored　the　instruction。　As　soon　as　Sartori　was　around　the　corner；　he　followed。　The　motion　died　away　as　he　did　so；　leaving　only　the　low　whistle　from　the　soldier's　windpipe　to　acpany　his　pursuit。　Gentle　picked　up　his　pace；　suddenly　fearing　that　an　ambush　awaited　his　other。　No　doubt　Sartori　deserved　death。　No　doubt　they　both　did。　But　there　was　a　good　deal　he　hadn't　prized　from　his　brother　yet；　especially　concerning　the　failure　of　the　Reconciliation。　He　had　to　be　preserved　from　harm；　at　least　until　Gentle　had　every　clue　to　the　puzzle　out　of　him。　The　time　would　e　for　them　both　to　pay　the　penalty　for　their　excesses。　But　it　wasn't　yet。
　As　he　stepped　over　the　dead　soldier；　he　heard　the　mystifs　voice。　The　single　word　it　said　was：　〃Gentle。〃
　Hearing　that　tone…like　no　other　he'd　heard　or　dreamt…　all　concern　for　Sartori's　preservation；　or　his　own；　was　overwhelmed。　His　only　thought　was　to　get　to　the　place　where　the　mystif　was；　to　lay　his　eyes　on　it　and　his　arms　around　it。　They'd　been　parted　for　far　too　long。　Never　again；　he　swore　to　himself　as　he　ran。　Whatever　edicts　or　obligations　were　set　before　them；　whatever　malice　sought　to　divide　them；　never　again　would　he　let　the　mystif　go。
　He　turned　the　corner。　Ahead　lay　the　doorway　that　led　out　into　the　antechamber。　Sartori　was　on　the　other　side；　partially　eclipsed；　but　hearing　Gentle's　approach　he　turned；　glancing　back　into　the　passageway。　The　smile　of　wele　he　was　wearing　for　Pie　'oh'　pah　decayed；　and　in　two　strides　he　was　at　the　door　to　slam　it　in　his　maker's　face。　Realizing　he　was　outpaced；　Gentle　yelled　Pie's　name；　but　the　door　was　closed　before　the　syllable　was　out；　plunging　Gentle　into　almost　total　darkness。　The　oath　he'd　made　seconds　before　was　broken；　they　were　divided　again；　before　they　could　even　be　reunited。　In　his　rage　Gentle　threw　himself　against　the　door；　but　like　everything　else　in　this　tower　it　was　built　to　last　a　millennium。　However　hard　he　hit　it；　all　he　got　was　bruises。　They　hurt；　but　the　memory　of　Sartori's　leer　when　he'd　talked　about　his　taste　for　mystifs　stung　more。　Even　now；　the　mystif　was　probably　in　Sartori's　arms。　Embraced；　kissed；　possessed。
　He　threw　himself　against　the　door　one　final　time；　then　gave　up　on　such　primitive　assaults。　Drawing　a　breath；　he　blew　it　into　his　fist　and　slammed　the　pneuma　against　the　door　the　way　he'd　learned　to　do　in　the　Jokalaylau。　It　had　been　a　glacier　beneath　his　hand　on　that　first　occasion；　and　the　ice　had　cracked　only　after　several　attempts。　This　time；　either　because　his　will　to　be　on　the　other　side　of　the　door　was　stronger　than　his　desire　to　free　the　women　in　the　ice；　or　simply　because　he　was　the　Maestro　Sartori　now；　a　named　man　who　knew　at　least　a　little　about　the　power　he　wielded；　the　steel　succumbed　at　the　first　blow；　and　a　jagged　crack　opened　in　the　door。
　He　heard　Sartori　shouting　on　the　other　side；　but　he　didn't　waste　time　trying　to　make　sense　of　it。　Instead　he　delivered　a　second　pneuma　against　the　fractured　steel；　and　this　time　his　hand　passed　all　the　way　through　the　door　as　pieces　flew　from　beneath　his　palm。　He　put　his　fist　to　his　mouth　a　third　time；　smelling　his　own　blood　as　he　did　so；　but　whatever　harm　this　was　doing　him；　it　had　not　yet　registered　as　pain。　He　caught　a　third　breath　and　delivered　it　against　the　door　with　a　yell　that　wouldn't　have　shamed　a　samurai。　The　hinges　shrieked；　and　the　door　flew　open。　He　was　through　it　before　it　had　struck　the　floor；　only　to　find　the　antechamber　beyond　deserted；　at　least　by　the　living。　Three　corpses；　panions　to　the　soldier　who'd　raised　the　alarm；　lay　sprawled　on　the　floor；　all　opened　with　single　slashes。　He　leapt　over　them　to　the　door；　his　broken　hand　adding　its　drops　to　the　pools　he　trod。
　The　corridor　beyond　was　rank　with　smoke；　as　though　something　half　rotted　was　burning　in　the　bowels　of　the　palace。　But　through　the　murk；　fifty　yards　from　him；　he　saw　Sartori　and　Pie　'oh'　pah。　Whatever　fiction　Sartori　had　invented　to　dissuade　the　mystif　from　pleting　its　mission；　it　had　proved　potent。　They　were　racing　from　the　tower　without　so　much　as　a　backward　glance；　like　lovers　just　escaped　from　death's　door。
　Gentle　drew　breath；　not　to　issue　a　pneuma　this　time　but　a　call。　He　shouted　Pie's　name　down　the　passageway；　the　smoke　dividing　as　his　summons　went；　as　though　the　syllables　from　a　Maestro's　mouth　had　a　literal　presence。　Pie　stopped　and　looked　back。　Sartori　took　hold　of　the　mystif　s　arm　as　if　to　hurry　it　on；　but　Pie's　eyes　had　already　found　Gentle；　and　it　refused　to　be　ushered　away。　Instead　it　shrugged　off　Sartori's　hold　and　took　a　step　in　Gentle's　direction。　The　curtain　of　smoke　divided　by　his　cry　had　e　together　again　and　made　a　blur　of　the　mystif　s　face；　but　Gentle　read　its　confusion　from　its　body。　It　seemed　not　to　know　whether　to　advance　or　retreat。
　〃It's　me！〃　Gentle　called。　〃It's　me！〃
　He　saw　Sartori　at　the　mystif　s　shoulder　and　caught　fragments　of　the　warnings　he　was　whispering：　something　about　the　Pivot　having　hold　of　their　heads。
　〃I'm　not　an　illusion；　Pie；〃　Gentle　said　as　he　advanced。　〃This　is　me。　Gentle。　I'm　real。〃
　The　mystif　shook　its　head；　looking　back　at　Sartori；　then　again　at　Gentle；　confounded　by　the　sight。
　〃It's　just　a　trick；〃　Sartori　said；　no　longer　bothering　to　whisper。　〃e　away；　Pie；　before　it　really　gets　a　hold。　It　can　make　us　crazy。〃
　Too　late；　perhaps；　Gentle　thought。　He　was　close　enough　to　see　the　look　on　the　mystif　s　face　now；　and　it　was　lunatic：　eyes　wide；　teeth　clenched；　sweat　making　red　rivulets　of　the　blood　spattered　on　its　cheek　and　brow。　The　sometime　assassin　had　long　since　lost　its　appetite　for　slaughter…that　much　had　been　apparent　back　in　the　Cradle；　when　it　had　hesitated　to　kill　though　their　lives　had　depended　upon　it…but　it　had　done　so　here；　and　the　anguish　it　felt　was　written　in　every　furrow　of　its　face。　No　wonder　Sartori　had　found　it　so　easy　to　make　the　mystif　forsake　its　mission。　It　was　teetering　on　mental　collapse。　And　now；　confronted　with　two　faces　it　knew；　both　speaking　with　the　voice　of　its　lover；　it　was　losing　what　little　equilibrium　it　had　left。
　Its　hand　went　to　its　belt；　from　which　hung　one　of　the　ribbon　blades　the　execution　squad　had　wielded。　Gentle　heard　it　sing　as　it　came；　its　edge　undulled　by　the　slaughter　it　had　already　mitted。
　Behind　the　mystif；　Sartori　said；　〃Why　not？　It's　only　a　shadow。〃
　Pie's　crazed　look　intensified；　and　it　raised　the　fluttering　blade　above　its　head。　Gentle　halted。　Another　step　and　he　was　in　range　of　the　blade；　nor　did　he　doubt　that　Pie　was　ready　to　use　it。
　〃Go　on！〃　Sartori　said。　〃Kill　it！　One　shadow　more　or　less。。。。〃
　Gentle　glanced　towards　Sartori；　and　that　tiny　motion　seemed　enough　to　spur　the　mystif。　It　came　at　Gentle；　the　blade　whining。　He　threw　himself　backwards　to　avoid　the　swipe；　which　would　have　opened　his　chest　had　it　caught　him；　but　the　mystif　was　determined　not　to　make　the　same　error　twice；　and　closed　the　gap　between　them　with　a　stride。　Gentle　retreated；　raising　his　arms　in　surrender；　but　the　mystif　was　indifferent　to　such　signs。　It　wanted　this　madness　gone；　and　quickly。
　〃Pie？〃　Gentle　gasped。　〃It's　me！　It's　me！　I　left　you　at　the　Kesparate！　Remember　that？〃
　Pie　swung　again；　not　once　but　twice；　the　second　slash　catching　Gentle's　upper　arm　and　chest；　opening　the　coat；　shirt；　and　flesh　beneath。　Gentle　pivoted　on　his　heel　to　avoid　the　following　cut；　putting　his　already　bloodied　hand　to　the　wound。　Taking　another　stumbling　step　of　retreat；　he　felt　the　wall　of　the　passageway　hard　against　his　spine。　He　had　nowhere　else　to　run。
　〃Don't　I　get　a　last　supper　then？〃　he　said；　not　looking　at　the　blade　but　at　Pie's　eyes；　attempting　to　stare　past　the　slaughter　fugue　to　the　sane　mind　that　cowered　behind　it。　〃You　promised　we'd　eat　together；　Pie。　Don't　you　remember？　A　fish　inside　a　fish　inside…〃
　The　mystif　stopped。　The　blade　fluttered　at　its　shoulder；　〃…a　fish。〃
　The　blade　fluttered　on；　but　it　didn't　descend。　〃Say　you　remember；　Pie。　Please　say　you　remember。〃　Somewhere　behind　Pie；　Sartori　began　a　new　round　of　exhortations；　but　to　Gentle　they　were　just　a　din。　He　continued　to　meet　Pie's　blank　gaze；　looking　for　some　sign　that　his　words　had　moved　his　executioner。　The　mystif　drew　a　tiny；　broken　breath；　and　the　knots　that　bound　its　brow　and　mouth　slipped。　〃Gentle？〃　it　said。
　He　didn't　reply。　He　just　let　his　hand　drop　from　his　shoulder　and　stood　open…armed　against　the　wall。
　〃Kill　it！〃　Sartori　was　still　saying。