cb.imajica1-第73章

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ack　at　her　as　he　toppled　from　the　circle。　She　reached　to　haul　him　back；　despite　the　searing　pain　her　motion　brought；　and　took　hold　of　an　arm；　determined　that　wherever　they　were　delivered；　to　Yzordderrex　or　death；　they'd　go　there　together。　He　returned　her　grasp；　seizing　her　outstretched　arms　and　dragging　himself　back　onto　the　Express。　As　his　face　emerged　from　the　blur　beyond　the　smile　she　realized　her　error。　It　was　Dowd　she'd　hauled　aboard。
　She　let　go　of　her　hold；　in　revulsion　more　than　rage。　His　face　was　horribly　contorted；　blood　streaming　from　eyes；　ears；　and　nose。　But　the　mind　of　passage　was　already　working　on　this　fresh　text；　preparing　to　translate　and　transport　it。　She　had　no　way　of　braking　the　process；　and　to　leave　the　circle　now　would　be　certain　suicide。　Beyond　it；　the　scene　was　blurred　and　darkening；　but　she　caught　sight　of　Oscar；　rising　from　the　ground；　and　thanked　whatever　deities　protected　these　circles　that　he　was　at　least　alive。　He　was　moving　towards　the　circle　again；　she　saw；　as　though　to　dare　its　flux　a　second　time；　but　it　seemed　he　judged　the　train　to　be　moving　too　swiftly　now；　because　he　retreated；　arms　up　over　his　face。　Seconds　later　the　whole　scene　disappeared；　the　sunlight　at　the　threshold　burning　on　for　a　heartbeat　longer　than　the　rest；　then　that　too　folding　away　into　obscurity。
　The　only　sight　left　to　her　now　was　the　matrix　of　lines　which　were　the　translator's　rendering　of　her　fellow　traveler；　and　though　she　despised　him　beyond　words　she　kept　her　eyes　fixed　upon　them；　having　no　other　point　of　reference。　All　bodily　sensation　had　disappeared。　She　didn't　know　if　she　was　floating；　falling；　or　even　breathing；　though　she　suspected　she　was　doing　none　of　these　things。　She　had　bee　a　sign；　transmitted　between　Dominions；　encoded　in　the　mind　of　passage。　The　sight　before　her…Dowd's　shimmering　glyph…was　not　secured　by　sight　but　by　thought；　which　was　the　only　currency　valid　on　this　trip。　And　now；　as　if　her　powers　to　purchase　were　increasing　with　familiarity；　the　absence　around　her　began　to　gain　detail。　The　In　Ovo；　Oscar　had　called　this　place。　Its　darkness　swelled　in　a　million　places；　their　skins　stretching　until　they　gleamed　and　split；　glutinous　forms　breaking　out　and　in　their　turn　swelling　and　splitting；　like　fruit　whose　seeds　were　sown　inside　each　other　and　nourished　to　corruption　by　their　predecessors'　decay。　Repulsive　as　this　was；　there　was　worse　to　e；　as　new　entities　appeared；　these　no　more　than　scraps　from　a　cannibal's　table；　sucked　bloodless　and　gnawed：　idiot　doodles　of　life　that　didn't　bear　translation　into　any　material　form。　Primitive　though　they　were；　they　sensed　the　presence　of　finished　life　forms　in　their　midst　and　rose　towards　the　travelers　like　the　damned　to　passing　angels。　But　they　swarmed　too　late。　The　visitors　moved　on　and　away；　the　darknesses　sealing　up　their　tenants　and　receding。
　Jude　could　see　Dowd's　body　in　the　midst　of　his　glyph；　still　insubstantial　but　brightening　by　the　moment。　With　the　sight；　the　agonies　of　ferriage　returned；　though　not　as　sharply　as　those　that　had　pained　her　at　the　outset　of　the　journey。　She　was　glad　to　have　them　if　they　proved　her　nerves　were　hers　again；　surely　it　meant　the　journey　was　almost　over。　The　horrors　of　the　In　Ovo　had　almost　disappeared　entirely　when　she　felt　the　faint　heat　on　her　face。　But　the　scent　this　heat　raised　to　her　nostrils　brought　more　certain　proof　that　the　city　was　near：　a　mingling　of　the　sweets　and　sours　she'd　first　smelled　on　the　wind　that　had　issued　from　the　Retreat　months　before。
　She　saw　a　smile　e　over　Dowd's　face；　cracking　the　blood　already　dried　on　it：　a　smile　which　became　a　laugh　in　a　beat　or　two；　ringing　off　the　walls　of　the　merchant　Pecca…ble's　cellar　as　it　grew　solid　around　them。　She　didn't　want　to　share　his　pleasure；　after　all　the　harms　he'd　devised；　but　she　couldn't　help　herself。　Relief　that　the　journey　hadn't　killed　her；　and　sheer　exhilaration　that　after　all　this　time　she　was　here；　brought　laughter　onto　her　face　and；　with　every　breath　between；　the　air　of　the　Second　Dominion　into　her　lungs。
　
　
　31
　
　Five　miles　up　the　mountainside　from　the　house　in　which　Jude　and　Dowd　were　taking　their　first　gasps　of　Yzordder…rexian　air；　the　Autarch　of　the　Reconciled　Dominions　sat　in　one　of　his　watchtowers　and　surveyed　the　city　he　had　inspired　to　such　notorious　excess。　It　was　three　days　since　his　return　from　the　Kwem　Palace；　and　almost　every　hour　somebody…it　was　usually　Rosengarten…had　brought　news　of　further　acts　of　civil　defiance；　some　in　regions　of　the　Imajica　so　remote　that　word　of　the　mutinies　had　been　weeks　in　ing；　some…these　more　disturbing…barely　beyond　the　palace　walls。　As　he　mused　he　chewed　on　kreau…chee；　a　drug　to　which　he'd　been　addicted　for　some　seventy　years。　Its　side　effects　were　severe　and　unpredictable　for　those　unused　to　it。　Periods　of　lethargy　alternated　with　bouts　of　priapism　and　psychotic　hallucination。　Sometimes　the　fingers　and　toes　swelled　to　grotesque　proportions。　But　the　Autarch's　system　had　been　steeped　in　kreauchee　for　so　many　years　the　drug　no　longer　assaulted　either　his　physique　or　his　faculties；　and　he　could　enjoy　its　capacity　to　lift　him　from　dolor　without　having　to　endure　its　disforts。
　Or　at　least　such　had　been　the　case　until　recently。　Now；　as　if　in　league　with　the　forces　that　were　destroying　his　dream　below；　the　drug　refused　to　give　him　relief。　He'd　demanded　a　fresh　supply　while　meditating　at　the　place　of　the　Pivot；　only　to　get　back　to　Yzordderrex　to　find　that　his　procurers　in　the　Scoriae　Kesparate　had　been　murdered。　Their　killers　were　reputedly　members　of　the　Dearth；　an　order　of　renegade　shammists…worshipers　of　the　Madonna；　he'd　heard　it　rumored…who'd　been　fulmigating　revolution　for　years　and　had　until　now　presented　so　little　threat　to　the　status　quo　that　he'd　let　them　be　for　entertainment's　sake。　Their　pamphlets…a　mingling　of　castration　fantasies　and　bad　theology…had　made　farcical　reading；　and　with　their　leader　Athanasius　in　prison　many　of　them　had　retreated　to　the　desert　to　worship　at　the　margins　of　the　First　Dominion；　the　so…called　Erasure；　where　the　solid　reality　of　the　Second　paled　and　faded。　But　Athanasius　had　escaped　his　custody　and　returned　to　Yzordderrex　with　fresh　calls　to　arms。　His　first　act　of　defiance；　it　seemed；　had　been　the　slaughter　of　the　kreauchee　pushers。　A　small　deed；　but　the　man　was　wily　enough　to　know　what　an　inconvenience　he'd　caused　with　it。　No　doubt　he　was　touting　it　as　an　act　of　civil　healing；　performed　in　the　name　of　the　Madonna。
　The　Autarch　spat　out　the　wad　of　kreauchee　he　was　chewing　and　vacated　the　watchtower；　heading　off　through　the　monumental　labyrinth　of　the　palace　towards　Quaisoir's　quarters　in　the　hope　that　she　had　some　small　supply　he　could　filch。　To　left　and　right　of　him　were　corridors　so　immense　no　human　voice　would　carry　along　them；　each　lined　than　ever。　And　if　she　told　him　all　she　knew；　pleasurable　as　that　unburdening　would　be；　could　she　be　absolutely　certain　that　he　wouldn't　cleave　to　his　history；　at　the　last；　and　use　what　he　knew　against　her？　What　would　Clara's　death　and　Celestine's　suffering　have　been　worth　then？　She　was　now　their　only　agent　in　the　living　world；　and　she　had　no　right　to　gamble　with　their　sacrifices。
　〃What　have　you　done；〃　Oscar　said；　〃besides　plot？　What
　have　you　done？〃
　〃You　haven't　been　honest　with　me；〃　she　replied。　〃Why
　should　I　tell　you　anything？〃
　〃Because　I　can　still　take　you　to　Yzordderrex；〃　he　said。
　〃Bribes　now？〃
　〃Don't　you　want　to　go　any　longer？〃
　〃I　want　to　know　the　truth　about　myself　more。〃
　He　looked　faintly　saddened　by　this。　〃Ah。〃　He　sighed。
　〃I've　been　lying　for　so　long　I'm　not　sure　I'd　know　the　truth
　if　1　tripped　over　it。　Except。。；〃
　〃Yes？〃
　〃What　we　felt　for　each　other；〃　he　murmured；　〃at　least；
　what　I　feel　for　you　。　。　。　that　was　true；　wasn't　it？〃
　〃It　can't　be　much；〃　Jude　said。　〃You　locked　me　away。
　You　left　me　to　Dowd…〃　〃I've　already　explained…〃　〃Yes；　you　were　distracted。　You　had　other　business。　So
　you　forgot　me。〃
　〃No；〃　he　protested；　〃I　never　forgot。　Never；　I　swear。〃
　〃What　then？〃　〃I　was　afraid。〃
　〃Of　me？〃
　〃Of　everything。　You；　Dowd；　the　Society。　I　started　to　see　plots　everywhere。　Suddenly　the　idea　of　your　being　in　my　bed　seemed　too　much　of　a　risk。　I　was　afraid　you'd　smother
　me；　or…〃
　〃That's　ridiculous。〃
　〃Is　it？　How　can　I　be　sure　who　you　belong　to？〃
　〃I　belong　to　myself。〃
　He　shook　his　head；　his　gaze　going　from　her　face　up　to　the　painting　of　Joshua　Godolphin　that　hung　above　the　bed。
　〃How　can　you　know　that？〃　he　said。　〃How　can　you　be　certain　that　what　you　feel　for　me　es　from　your　heart？〃
　〃What　does　it　matter　where　it　es　from？　It's　there。　Look　at　me。〃
　He　refused　her　demand；　his　eyes　still　fixed　on　the　Mad　Lord。
　〃He's　dead；〃　she　said。
　〃But　his　legacy…〃
　〃Fuck　his　legacy！〃　she　said；　and　suddenly　got　to　her　feet；　taking　hold　of　the　portrait　by　its　heavy；　gilded　frame　and　wrenching　it　from　the　wall。
　Oscar　rose　to　protest；　but　her　vehemence　carried　the　day。　The　picture　came　from　its　hooks　with　a　single　pull；　and　she　summarily　pitched　it　across　the　room。　Then　she　dropped　back　onto　the　bed　in　front　of　Oscar。
　〃He's　dead　and　gone；〃　she　said。　〃He　can't　judge　us。　He　can't　control　us。　Whatever　it　is　we　feel　for　each　other…and　I　don't　pretend　to　know　what　it　is…it's　ours。〃　She　put　her　hands　to　his　face；　her　fingers　woven　with　his　beard。　〃Let　go　of　the　fears；〃　she　said。　〃Take　hold　of　me　instead。〃
　He　put　his　arms　around　her。
　〃You're　going　to　take　me　to　Yzordderrex；　Oscar。　Not　in　a　week's　time；　not　in　a　few　days：　tomorrow。　I　want　to　go　tomorrow。　Or　else〃…her　hands　dropped　from　his　face…　〃let　me　go　now。　Out　of　here。　Out　of　your　life。　I　won't　be　your　prisoner；　Oscar。　Maybe　his　mistresses　put　up　with　that；　but　I　won't。　I'll　kill　myself　before　I'll　let　you　lock　me　up　again。〃
　She　said　all　of　this　dry…eyed。　Simple　sentiments；　simply　put。　He　took　hold　of　her　hands　and　raised　them　to　his　cheeks　again；　as　if　inviting　her　to　possess　him。　His　face　was　full　of　tiny　creases　she'd　not　seen　before；　and　they　were　wet　with　tears。
　〃We'll　go；〃　he　said。
　Rooms；　lounges；　and　chapel　were　a　state　unto　themselves；　and　he'd　long　ago　sworn　to　her　he　would　never　violate　them。　She'd　decorated　the　rooms　with　any　lush　or　luxurious　item　that　pleased　her　eclectic　eye。　It　was　an　aesthetic　he　himself　had　favored；　before　his　present　melancholia。　He'd　filled　the　bedrooms　now　nested　by　carrion　birds　with　immaculate　copies　of　baroque　and　rococo　furniture；　had　missioned　the　walls　to　be　mirrored　like　Versailles；　and　had　the　toilets　gilded。　But　he'd　long　since　lost　his　taste　for　such　extravagances；　and　now　the　very　sight　of　Quaisoir's　rooms　nauseated　him　so　much　that　if　he　hadn't　been　driven　by　need　he'd　have　retreated；　appalled　by　their　opulence。
　He　called　his　wife's　name　as　he　went。　First　through　the　lounges；　strewn　with　the　leavings　of　a　dozen　meals；　all　were　empty。　Then　into　the　state　room；　which　was　appointed　even　more　grandly　than　the　lounges；　but　also　empty。　Finally；　to　the　bedroom。　At　its　threshold；　he　heard　the　slap　of　feet　on　the　marble　floor；　and　Quaisoir's　servant　Concupis…centia　paddled　into　view。　She　was　naked；　as　always；　her　back　a　field　of　multicolored　extremities　each　as　agile　as　an　ape's　tail；　her　forelimbs　withered　and　boneless　things；　bred　to　such　vestigial　condition　over　generations。