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."Even the small sound of their boots on the cobbles seemed to bounce too loudly off disintegratingarchitecture as they tramped the streets.Every abandoned mansion, every collapsed bothy and gapinghall, seemed to be roofless, dank, still puddled with the morning's rain."There be no choice," Sianadh said reluctantly."We shall have to retrace our steps.Near where wecame in, not far from that bridge, I saw a building with a roof, beside a pond.It looked to be an old mill.'Twere too near the stream for my liking, right on it, in fact." He shrugged."Anyhow, ye need not fearwith me by your side."His hand strayed again to the amber tilhal. «» «» «» Chipped gargoyles watched the travelers return through the echoing streets, now dim in the graying light.The structure beside the green glass pond turned out to be an old mill indeed; the great wheel in the racebelow the dam had mortified countless years ago.Slime dripped from its flanges.The front door of themill had long since rotted to dust.Sianadh looked up at a weathered inscription over the gaping doorway.Page 99 "Faerwyrd, the key;idrel, the sword;nente, the stitch;ciedre, the moon." Painstakingly he decipheredthe runes."The thorn,atka;the dragon,slegorn;F, I, N Fincastle's Mill.Well then, Fincastle must needswelcome visitors this night."Inside, the mill was cool but dry.There were several chambers, but the travelers settled on a small onethat boasted a large stone table in the center, as well as a fireplace.Sianadh gave a shout of laughterwhen he saw this, and it was not long before they had gathered enough wood from a nearby garden,rampantly overgrown which also yielded onions and ripe passionfruit to have a fire going and fuel tospare."This will keep away wild beasts and cook our supper as well!" the man said gleefully, rubbing his hands."And we can eat like Kings at our own table.I have strips of dried beef to make an onion stew,thickened with a bit o' oat flour.That'll stick to your ribs!"His companion fetched water from the stream, whose waters in the evening were now colorless.Willows trailed long withies onto its surface.Sickly stems of paradox ivy twined about the feet of acollapsed bridge.Their supper was comparatively lavish, but despite Sianadh's urgings the girl could not touch the meat.The passionfruit tasted delicious.Afterward the Ertishman leaned contentedly back against the knapsackwith his hands behind his head and wistfully reflected, in the glow of the fire, on the delights of a drop ofwhiskey after a meal.The girl, however, wanted to ask questions.«What?» indicating their surroundings."The city? There be many such as this throughout Erith.The Ancient Cities, some call them.They werebuilt many centuries ago at the beginning of the Era of Glory, now long gone.Some gramarye be in them,they say, for the walls of the Ancient Cities still stand and have not been buried beneath layers of dustand silt blown in by the winds of centuries, or cracked apart by heat and cold and living roots.Cities sofair and wondrous have never been made since.But they were abandoned, because they were not builtfrom dominite.Dominite be full of talium trihexide, that metal what the mesh in taltries is made of.Thepower of the shang wind can pass through all other stone and all other metal, and so it did.The folk inthose days were careless about wearing taltries.Nowadays there be severe laws governing that.So yesee, the Ancient Cities became cities of ghosts whenever the unstorms came.Too many ghosts, as timewent by, until few had the heart to live amongst them.""See, the images be the imprints of real folk, stamped forever on the places where they have suffered orhad great joy.When we feel strongly and passionately, we make a force.The shang wind stains the airwith that force also it whips up those feelings in us.Some people are afraid of the shang, and othersrevel in it.They say the name comes from some old speech, 'sh' meaning wind and 'ang' meaning theGreayte Star of the south, so it be the Star's Wind.""I have heard of another old, forsaken city in the far north, in Avlantia where the Talith used todwell but the architecture of that place is different.And there are no ghosts.They say the folk all leftthat city in a time before the Era of Glory and never returned.It is not known why or where they went,but the most common story is that a sickness or a plague drove them away.Now the ruins of the old citysleep alone in the mull of their splendor, I guess, and only the great gold lions of Avlantia roam there."A glister of sparks arced from the fire as he tossed on an extra piece of wood.«What? Why??» She drew her taltry away, pointed to her hair.Page 100 "Your yellow locks.Aye, the Talith were a yellow-haired race.Not many of them left now.Still, a fewof them do dwell scattered about in different countries.Avlantia was their native home.They say it is afair country, full of red-leaved trees in the west and overflowing with flowers in the east.The climate bewarm and pleasant.But that does not suit the other races, I suppose, else Avlantia would now beoverrun with Feorhkind, Erts, and Icemen.But it be not.Few folk visit those northern lands, and fewerdwell there, if any."He tilted a red, bristling eyebrow at her."How far back in your own past do ye recall?"She conveyed to him as much as she could, drawing in the dust with her finger and using gestures.Heshowed her more hand-speak, which she absorbed greedily.Then he shook his head wonderingly."I do not know what to make of ye, Imrhien.Ye wear a poor excuse for a tilhal that looks to be notworth the wood it's chewed out of and what be that scar on your throat?"Her hand went to her throat.She had not been aware of a mark there, being in the habit of avoidinglooking at reflective surfaces.Indeed, a raised weal of hard tissue striped the front of her neck.It hadnothing to do with the beatings she had received in the Tower those had always been directed at herback and shoulders.She shrugged, frowning."Ye have no memory of it? 'Tis like a whiplash.My cousin had a mark like that on his arm he got whenhe was cracking whips with some of the feckless lads on the farm." Thoughtfully he chewed on a twig."Iwas born and bred on a farm, see, in Finvarna.'Twas a good life.We had a bauchan to help us in themdays.He and me dad often fought, but the bauchan helped us when we needed it."He pushed his toes closer to the fire and stared reflectively at the cracked ceiling."One day, for instance, as me dad was coming back from the market, the bauchan pounced out on himand they ended up in a brawl.Then when me dad got home he found out he had lost his besthandkerchief, the one he prized because a wizard had put charms in it and me ma had embroidered hisname on't when they were courting.He was certain the bauchan had it, and he went back to look for it.Sure enough, he found the bauchan rubbing the handkerchief on a rough stone.'It's well you've come,Declan,' says the bauchan.'It'd have been your death if I'd rubbed a hole in this.As it is, ye'll have tofight me for it.' So they fought, and me dad won back his handkerchief
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Tematy
IndexWarren Adler Wojna państwa Rose 01 Wojna państwa Rose
§ Menzel Iwona W poszukiwaniu zapachu snów 01 W poszukiwaniu zapachu snów
Lachlan M D Synowie boga 01 Synowie boga (2)
Robbins Harold Handlarze snów 01 Handlarze snow
§ Rudnicka Olga (01) Zacisze 13 Zacisze 13
Reynard Sylvain Piekło Gabriela 01 Piekło Gabriela
Kalifornijska noc 01 Kalifornijska noc Adler Elizabeth
Alexandra Bracken Mroczne umysły 01 Mroczne umysły
Lewis Susan Gorycz szczęÂścia
Cezair Thompson Margaret Córka pirata