cb.imajica2-第91节

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　〃If　I　sec　my　works　with　these　eyes　and　want　to　destroy　them；〃　Sartori　murmured；　〃what　does　He　see？　What　does　He　want？〃
　〃Reconciliation；〃　she　said。
　〃Yes。　But　why？　It's　not　a　beginning；　Judith。　It's　the　end。　When　the　Imajica's　whole；　He'll　turn　it　into　a　wasteland。〃
　She　drew　away　from　him。　〃How　do　you　know？〃
　〃I　think　I've　always　known。〃
　〃And　you　said　nothing？　All　your　talk　about　the　future…〃
　〃I　didn't　dare　admit　it　to　myself。　I　didn't　want　to　believe　I　was　anything　but　my　own　man。　You　understand　that。　I've　seen　you　fight　to　see　with　your　own　eyes。　I　did　the　same。　I　couldn't　admit　He　had　any　part　of　me；　until　now。〃　〃Why　now？〃
　〃Because　I　see　you　with　my　eyes。　I　love　you　with　my　heart。　I　love　you；　Judith；　and　that　means　I'm　free　of　Him。　I　can　admit。。。　what。。。　I。。。　know。〃
　He　dissolved　in　grief；　but　his　hands　kept　hold　of　her　as　he　shook。
　〃There's　nowhere　to　hide；　love；〃　he　said。　〃We've　got　a　few　minutes　together；　you　and　I：　a　few　sweet　moments。　Then　it's　over。〃
　She　heard　everything　he　said；　but　her　thoughts　were　as　much　with　what　was　going　on　in　the　house　behind　her。　Despite　all　she'd　heard　from　Uma　Umagammagi；　despite　the　zeal　of　the　Maestro；　despite　all　the　calamities　that　would　e　with　her　interference；　the　Reconciliation　had　to　be　halted。
　〃We　can　still　stop　Him；〃　she　said　to　Sartori。
　〃It's　too　late；〃　he　replied。　〃Let　Him　have　His　victory。　We　can　defy　Him　a　better　way。　A　purer　way。〃
　〃How？〃
　〃We　can　die　together。〃
　〃That's　not　defying　Him。　It's　defeat。〃
　〃I　don't　want　to　live　with　His　presence　in　me。　I　want　to　lie　down　with　you　and　die。　It　won't　hurt；　love。〃
　He　opened　his　jacket。　There　were　two　blades　at　his　belt。　They　glittered　by　the　light　of　the　floating　threads；　but　his　eyes　glittered　more　dangerously　still。　His　tears　had　dried。　He　looked　almost　happy。
　〃It's　the　only　way；〃　he　said。
　〃I　can't。〃
　〃If　you　love　me　you　will。〃
　She　drew　her　arm　from　his　grasp。　〃I　want　to　live；〃　she　said；　backing　away　from　him。
　〃Don't　desert　me；〃　he　replied。　There　was　warning　in　his　voice　as　well　as　appeal。　〃Don't　leave　me　to　my　Father。　Please。　If　you　love　me　don't　leave　me　to　my　Father。　Judith！〃　。
　He　drew　the　knives　out　of　his　belt　and　came　after　her；　offering　the　handle　of　one　as　he　came；　like　a　merchant　selling　suicide。　She　swiped　at　the　proffered　blade；　and　it　went　from　his　grasp。　As　it　flew　she　turned；　hoping　to　the　Goddess　that　Clem　had　left　the　door　open。　He　had；　and　lit　every　can…die　he　could　find；　to　judge　by　the　spill　of　light　onto　the　step。　She　picked　up　her　pace；　hearing　Sartori's　voice　behind　her　as　she　went。　He　only　spoke　her　name；　but　the　threat　in　it　was　unmistakable。　She　didn't　reply…her　flight　from　him　was　answer　enough…but　when　she　reached　the　pavement　she　glanced　back　at　him。　He　was　picking　up　the　dropped　knife；　and　rising。
　Again　he　said；　〃Judith…〃
　But　this　time　it　was　a　warning　of　a　different　order。　Off　to　her　left　a　motion　drew　her　glance。　One　of　the　gek…a…gek；　the　sharpener；　was　ing　at　her；　its　flat　head　now　wide　as　a　manhole　and　toothed　to　its　gut。
　Sartori　yelled　an　order；　but　the　thing　was　rogue　and　came　on　at　her　unchecked。　She　raced　for　the　step；　and　as　she　did　so　heard　a　whoop　from　the　door；　Monday　was　there；　naked　but　for　his　grimy　underwear：　in　his　hand；　a　homemade　bludgeon；　which　he　swung　around　his　head　like　a　man　possessed。　She　ducked　beneath　its　sweep　as　she　made　the　step。　Clem　was　behind　him；　ready　to　haul　her　in；　but　she　turned　to　call　Monday　to　retreat；　in　time　to　see　the　gek…a…gek　mounting　the　step　in　pursuit。　Her　defender　didn't　retreat；　but　brought　the　weapon　down　in　a　whistling　arc；　striking　the　gek…a…gek's　gaping　head。　The　bludgeon　shattered；　but　the　blow　sheared　off　one　of　the　beast's　bulbous　eyes。　Though　wounded；　its　mass　was　still　sufficient　to　carry　it　forward；　and　one　of　its　freshly　honed　claws　found　Monday's　back　as　he　turned　to　dodge　it。　The　boy　shrieked　and　might　have　fallen　beneath　the　Oviate's　attack　if　Clem　hadn't　grabbed　his　arms　and　all　but　thrown　him　into　the　house。
　The　half…blinded　beast　was　a　yard　from　Jude's　feet；　its　head　thrown　back　as　it　raged　in　pain。　But　it　wasn't　the　maw　she　was　watching。　It　was　Sartori。　He　was　once　again　walking　towards　the　house；　a　knife　in　each　hand；　and　a　gek…a…gek　at　each　heel。　His　eyes　were　fixed　on　her。　They　shone　with　sorrow。
　〃In！〃　Clem　yelled；　and　she　relinquished　both　sight　and　step　to　pitch　herself　back　over　the　threshold。
　The　one…eyed　Oviate　came　after　her　as　she　did　so；　but　Clem　was　fast。　The　heavy　door　swung　closed；　and　Hoi…Pot…loi　was　there　to　fling　the　bolts　across；　leaving　the　wounded　beast　and　its　still　more　wounded　master　out　in　the　darkness。
　On　the　floor　above；　Gentle　heard　nothing　of　this。　He　had　finally　passed；　via　the　circle's　good　offices；　through　the　In　Ovo　and　into　what　Pie　had　called　the　Mansion　of　the　Nexus；　the　Ana；　where　he　and　the　other　Maestros　would　undertake　the　penultimate　phase　of　the　working。　The　conventional　life　of　the　senses　was　redundant　in　this　place；　and　for　Gentle　being　here　was　like　a　dream　in　which　he　was　knowing　but　unknown；　potent　but　unfixed。　He　didn't　mourn　the　body　he'd　left　in　Gamut　Street。　If　he　never　inhabited　it　again　it　would　be　no　loss；　he　thought。　He　had　a　far　finer　condition　here；　like　a　figure　in　some　exquisite　equation　that　could　neither　be　removed　nor　reduced　but　was　all　it　had　to　be…no　more；　no　less…to　change　the　sum　of　things。
　He　knew　the　others　were　with　him；　and　though　he　had　no　sight　to　see　them　with；　his　mind's　eye　had　never　owned　so　vast　a　palette　as　it　did　now；　nor　had　his　invention　ever　been　finer。　There　was　no　need　for　cribbing　and　forgery　here。　He　had　earned　with　his　metempsychosis　access　to　a　visionary　grasp　he'd　never　dreamt　of　possessing；　and　his　imagination　brimmed　with　correlatives　for　the　pany　he　kept。
　He　invented　Tick　Raw　dressed　in　the　motley　he'd　first　seen　the　man　wear　in　Vanaeph；　but　fashioned　now　from　the　wonders　of　the　Fourth。　A　suit　of　mountains；　dusted　in　Jokalaylaurian　snow；　a　shirt　of　Patashoqua；　belted　by　its　walls；　a　shimmering　halo　of　green　and　gold；　casting　its　light　down　on　a　face　as　busy　as　the　highway。　Scopique　was　a　less　gaudy　sight；　the　gray　dust　of　the　Kwem　billowing　around　him　like　a　shredded　coat；　its　particles　etching　the　glories　of　the　Third　in　its　folds。　The　Cradle　was　there。　So　were　the　temples　at　L'Himby；　so　was　the　Lenten　Way。　There　was　even　a　glimpse　of　the　railroad　track；　the　smoke　of　its　lootive　rising　to　add　its　murk　to　the　storm。：
　Then　Athanasius；　dressed　in　a　clout　of　dirty　cloth　and　carrying　in　his　bleeding　hands　a　perfect　representation　of　Yzordderrex；　from　the　causeway　to　the　desert；　from　the　harbor　to　Ipse；　The　ocean　ran　from　his　wounded　flank；　and　the　crown　of　thorns　he　wore　was　blossoming；　throwing　petals　of　rainbow　light　down　upon　all　he　bore。　Finally；　there　was　Chicka　Jackeen；　here　in　lightning；　the　way　he'd　looked　two　hundred　midsummers　before。　He'd　been　weeping；　then；　and　waxen　with　fright。　But　now　the　storm　was　his　possession；　not　his　scourge；　and　the　arcs　of　fire　that　leapt　between　his　fingers　were　a　geometry；　austere　and　beautiful；　that　solved　the　mystery　of　the　First；　and　in　unveiling　it　made　perfection　the　new　enigma。
　Inventing　them　this　way；　Gentle　wondered　if　they　in　turn　were　inventing　him；　or　whether　his　painter's　hunger　to　see　was　an　irrelevancy　to　them；　and　what　they　imagined；　knowing　he　was　with　them；　was　a　body　subtler　than　any　sight。　It　would　be　better　that　way；　he　supposed；　and　with　time　he'd　learn　to　rise　out　of　his　literalisms；　just　as　he'd　shrug　off　the　self　that　wore　his　name。　He　had　no　attachment　to　this　Gentle　left；　nor　to　the　tale　that　hung　behind。　It　was　tragedy；　that　self；　any　self。　It　was　a　marriage　made　with　loss；　and　had　he　not　wanted　one　last　glimpse　of　Pie　'oh'　pah；　he　might　have　prayed　that　his　reward　for　Reconciliation　would　be　this　state　in　perpetuity。
　He　knew　that　wasn't　plausible；　of　course。　The　Ana's　sanctuary　existed　for　only　a　brief　time；　and　while　it　did　so　it　had　more　ecumenical　business　than　nurturing　a　single　soul。　The　Maestros　had　served　their　purpose　in　bringing　the　Dominions　into　this　sacred　space；　and　would　soon　be　redundant。　They　would　return　to　their　circles；　leaving　Dominion　to　meld　with　Dominion；　and　in　so　doing　drive　the　In　Ovo　back　like　a　malignant　sea。　What　would　happen　then　was　a　matter　of　conjecture。　He　doubted　there'd　be　an　instant　of　revelation…all　the　nations　of　the　Fifth　waking　to　their　unfettered　state　in　the　same　moment。　It　would　most　likely　be　slow；　the　work　of　years。　Rumors　at　first；　that　bridges　wreathed　in　fogs　could　be　found　by　those　eager　enough　to　look。　Then　the　rumors　being　certainties；　and　the　bridges　being　causeways；　and　the　fogs　great　clouds；　until；　in　a　generation　or　two；　children　were　born　who　knew　without　being　taught　that　the　species　had　five　Dominions　to　explore　and　would　one　day　discover　its　own　Godhood　in　its　wanderings。　But　the　time　it　took　to　reach　that　blessed　day　was　unimportant。　The　moment　the　first　bridge；　however　small；　was　forged；　the　Imajica　was　whole；　and　at　that　moment　every　soul　in　the　Dominion；　from　cradle　to　deathbed；　would　be　healed　in　some　tiny　part　and　take　their　next　breath　lighter　for　the　fact。
　Jude　waited　in　the　hall　long　enough　to　be　sure　that　Monday　wasn't　dead