cb.imajica2-第66章

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　escape　the　street　with　the　cobbles　telling　me　I　should　go　about　my　crusade　without　fear　of　God's　retribution；　for　I　had　turned　my　back　on　the　sin　of　that　house。
　That　was　my　dream。　I　am　setting　it　down　straightway；　and　will　have　this　letter　sent　post　haste；　that　you　may　be　warned　what　harm　there　is　in　that　place　and　not　be　tempted　to　enter　Clerkenwell　or　even　stray　south　of　Islington　while　I　am　gone　from　you。　For　my　dream　instructs　me　that　the　street　will　be　forfeit；　in　due　course；　for　the　crimes　it　has　entertained；　and　1　would　not　wish　one　hair　of　your　sweet　head　harmed　for　the　deeds　I　in　my　delirium　mitted　against　the　edicts　of　Our　Lord。　Though　the　Almighty　did　offer　His　only　begotten　Son　to　suffer　and　die　for　our　sins；　I　know　that　He　would　not　ask　that　same　sacrifice　of　me；　knowing　that　I　am　His　humblest　servant；　and　pray　only　to　be　made　His　instrument　until　I　quit　this　vale　and　go　to　Judgment。
　May　the　Lord　God　keep　you　in　His　care　until　I　embrace　you　again。
　The　ship　Roxborough　boarded　a　few　hours　after　finishing　this　letter　went　down　a　mile　out　of　Dover　harbor；　in　a　squall　that　troubled　no　other　vessel　in　the　vicinity　but　overturned　the　purger's　ship　and　sank　it　in　less　than　a　minute。　All　hands　were　lost。
　The　day　after　the　letter　arrived；　the　recipient；　still　tearful　with　the　news；　went　to　seek　solace　at　the　stables　of　his　father's　bay；　Bellamare。　The　horse　had　been　jittery　since　her　master's　departure　and；　though　she　knew　Roxborough's　son　well；　kicked　out　at　his　approach；　striking　him　in　the　abdomen。　The　blow　was　not　instantly　fatal；　but　with　stomach　and　spleen　split　wide；　the　youth　was　dead　in　six　days。　Thus　he　preceded　his　father；　whose　body　was　not　washed　up　for　another　week；　to　the　family　grave。
　Pie　'oh'　pah　had　recounted　this　sorry　story　to　Gentle　as　they'd　traveled　from　L'Himby　to　the　Cradle　of　Chzercemit　in　search　of　Scopique；　It　was　one　of　many　tales　the　mystif　had　told　on　that　journey；　offering　them　not　as　biographical　details；　though　of　course　many　of　them　were　precisely　that；　but　as　entertainment；　edic；　absurd；　or　melancholy；　that　usually　opened　with：　〃I　heard　about　this　fellow　once　。。。〃
　Sometimes　the　stories　were　told　within　a　few　minutes；　but　Pie　had　lingered　over　this　one；　repeating　word　for　word　the　text　of　Roxborough's　letter；　though　to　this　day　Gentle　didn't　know　how　the　mystif　had　e　by　it。　He　understood　why　it　had　mitted　the　prophecy　to　memory；　however；　and　why　it　had　taken　such　trouble　to　repeat　it　for　Gentle。　It　had　half　believed　there　was　some　significance　in　Roxborough's　dream；　and　just　as　it　had　educated　Gentle　on　other　matters　pertaining　to　his　concealed　self；　so　it　had　told　this　tale　to　warn　the　Maestro　of　dangers　the　future　might　bring。
　That　future　was　now。　As　the　hours　since　Monday's　return　crept　on；　and　Jude　still　didn't　return；　Gentle　was　reduced　to　picking　his　recollections　of　Roxborough's　letter　apart；　looking　for　some　clue　in　the　purger's　words　as　to　what　threat　might　be　ing　to　the　doorstep。　He　even　wondered　if　the　man　who'd　written　the　letter　was　numbered　among　the　revenants　who　by　midmoming　could　be　glimpsed　in　the　heat　haze。　Had　Roxborough　e　back　to　watch　the　demise　of　the　street　he'd　called　damnable？　If　he　had…if　he　listened　at　the　step　the　way　he　had　in　his　dream…he　was　most　likely　as　frustrated　as　the　occupants；　wishing　they'd　get　on　with　the　work　he　hoped　would　invite　calamity。
　But　however　many　doubts　Gentle　harbored　concerning　Jude；　he　could　not　believe　she　would　conspire　against　te　Great　Work。　If　she　said　it　was　unsafe　she　had　good　reason　for　so　saying；　and；　though　every　sinew　in　Gentle's　body　raged　at　inactivity；　he　refused　to　go　downstairs　and　bring　the　stones　up　into　the　Meditation　Room；　for　fear　their　very　presence　might　tempt　him　into　warming　the　circle。　Instead　he　waited；　and　waited；　and　waited；　while　the　heat　outside　rose　and　the　air　in　the　Meditation　Room　grew　sour　with　his　frustration。　As　Scopique　had　said；　a　working　like　this　required　months　of　preparation；　not　hours；　and　now　even　those　hours　were　being　steadily　whittled　away。　How　late　could　he　afford　to　postpone　the　ceremony　before　he　gave　up　on　Jude　and　began？　Until　six？　Until　nightfall？　It　was　an　imponderable。
　There　were　signs　of　unease　outside　the　house　as　well　as　in。　Scarcely　a　minute　went　by　without　a　new　siren　being　added　to　the　chorus　of　whoops　and　wails　from　every　pass　point。　Several　times　through　the　morning；　bells　began　chiming　from　steeples　in　the　vicinity；　their　peals　neither　summons　nor　celebration　but　alarm。　There　were　even　cries　occasionally：　shouts　and　screams　from　distant　streets　carried　to　the　open　windows　on　air　now　hot　enough　to　make　the　dead　sweat。
　And　then；　just　after　one　in　the　afternoon；　Clem　came　up　the　stairs；　his　eyes　wide。　It　was　Taylor　who　spoke；　and　there　was　excitement　in　his　voice。
　〃Somebody's　e　into　the　house；　Gentle。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃A　spirit　of　some　kind；　from　the　Dominions。　She's　downstairs。〃
　〃Is　it　Jude？〃
　〃No。　This　is　a　real　power。　Can't　you　smell　her？　I　know　you've　given　up　women；　but　your　nose　still　works；　doesn't　it？〃
　He　led　Gentle　out　onto　the　landing。　The　house　lay　quiet　below。　Gentle　sensed　nothing。
　〃Where　is　she？〃
　Clem　looked　puzzled。　〃She　was　here　a　moment　ago；　I　swear。〃
　Gentle　went　to　the　top　of　the　stairs；　but　Clem　held　him　back。
　〃Angels　first；〃　he　said；　but　Gentle　was　already　beginning　his　descent；　relieved　that　the　torpor　of　the　last　few　hours　was　over　and　eager　to　meet　this　visitor。　Perhaps　she　carried　a　message　from　Jude。
　The　front　door　stood　open。　There　was　a　pool　of　beer　glinting　on　the　step；　but　no　sign　of　Monday。
　〃Where's　the　boy？〃　Gentle　asked。
　〃He's　outside；　sky　watching。　He　says　he　saw　a　flying　saucer。〃
　Gentle　threw　his　panion　a　quizzical　look。　Clem　didn't　reply　but　laid　his　hand　on　Gentle's　shoulder；　his　eyes　going　to　the　door　of　the　dining　room。　From　inside　came　the　barely　audible　sound　of　sobbing。
　〃Mama；〃　Gentle　said；　and　gave　up　any　caution；　hurrying　down　the　rest　of　the　flight　with　Clem　in　pursuit。
　By　the　time　he　reached　Celestine's　room；　the　sound　of　her　sobs　had　already　disappeared。　Gentle　drew　a　defensive　breath；　took　hold　of　the　handle；　and　put　his　shoulder　to　the　door。　It　wasn't　locked　but　swung　open　smoothly；　delivering　him　inside。　The　room　was　ill…lit；　the　drooping；　mildewed　curtains　still　heavy　enough　to　keep　the　sun　to　a　few　dusty　beams。　They　fell　on　the　empty　mattress　in　the　middle　of　the　floor。　Its　sometime　occupant；　whom　Gentle　had　not　expected　to　see　standing　again；　was　at　the　other　end　of　the　room；　her　tears　subsided　to　whimpers。　She　had　brought　one　of　the　sheets　from　her　bed　with　her　and；　seeing　her　son　enter；　drew　it　up　to　her　breastbone。　Then　she　turned　her　attention　back　towards　the　wall　she　was　standing　close　to　and　studied　it。　A　pipe　had　burst　somewhere　behind　the　brick；　Gentle　supposed。　He　could　hear　water　running　freely。
　〃It's　all　right。　Mama；〃　he　said。　〃Nothing's　going　to　hurt　you。〃
　Celestine　didn't　reply。。　She'd　raised　her　left　hand　in　front　of　her　face　and　was　looking　at　the　palm；　as　if　into　a　mirror。
　〃It's　still　here；〃　Clem　said。
　〃Where？〃　Gentle　asked　him。
　He　nodded　in　the　direction　of　Celestine；　and　Gentle　instantly　left　his　side；　opening　his　arms　as　he　went　to　offer　the　haunted　air　a　fresh　target。
　〃e　on；〃　he　said。　〃Wherever　you　are。　e　on。〃
　Halfway　between　the　door　and　his　mother　he　felt　a　cool　drizzle　strike　his　face；　so　fine　it　was　invisible。　Its　touch　was　not　unpleasant。　In　fact　it　was　refreshing；　and　he　let　out　an　appreciative　gasp。
　〃It's　raining　in　here；〃　he　said。
　〃It's　the　Goddess；〃　Celestine　replied。
　She　looked　up　from　studying　her　hand；　which　Gentle　now　saw　was　running　with　water；　as　though　a　spring　had　appeared　in　her　palm。
　〃What　Goddess？〃　Gentle　asked　her。
　〃Uma　Umagammagi；〃　his　mother　replied。
　〃Why　were　you　crying；　Mama？〃
　〃I　thought　I　was　dying。　I　thought　She'd　e　to　take　me。〃
　〃But　She　hasn't。〃
　〃I'm　still　here；　child。〃
　〃Then　what　does　She　want？〃
　Celestine　extended　her　arm　to　Gentle。　〃She　wants　us　to　make　peace；〃　she　said。　〃Join　me　in　the　waters；　child。〃
　Gentle　took　hold　of　his　mother's　hand；　and　she　drew　him　towards　her；　turning　her　face　up　to　the　rain　as　she　did　so。　The　last　traces　of　her　tears　were　being　washed　away；　and　a　look　of　ecstasy　appeared　where　there　had　been　grief。　Gentle　felt　it　too。　His　eyes　wanted　to　flicker　closed；　his　body　wanted　to　swoon。　But　he　resisted　the　rain's　blandishments；　tempting　as　they　were。　If　it　carried　some　message　for　him；　he　needed　to　know　it　quickly　and　end　these　delays　before　they　cost　the　Reconciliation　dearly。
　〃Tell　me；〃　he　said；　as　he　came　to　his　mother's　side；　〃whether　you're　here　to　stay；　tell　me。。。。〃
　But　the　rain　made　no　reply；　at　least　none　that　he　could　grasp。　Perhaps　his　mother　heard　more　than　he　did；　however；　because　there　were　smiles　on　her　glistening　face；　and　her　grip　on　Gentle's　hand　became　more　possessive。　She　let　the　sheet　she'd　held　to　her　bosom　drop；　so　that　the　rains　could　stroke　her　breasts　and　belly；　and　Gentle's　gaze　took　full　account　of　her　nakedness。　The　wounds　she'd　sustained　in　her　struggles　with　Dowd　and　Sartori　still　marked　her　body；　but　they　only　served　to　prove　her　perfection；　and　although　he　knew　the　felony　here；　he　couldn't　stem　his　feelings。
　She　put　her　free　hand　up　to　her　face　and　with　thumb　and　forefingers　emptied　the　shallow　pools　of　her　sockets；　then　once　again　opened　her　eyes。　They　found　Gentle　too　quickly　for　him　to　conceal　himself；　and　he　felt　a　shock　as　their　looks　met；　not　just　because　she　read　his　desire；　but　because　he　found　the　same　in　her　face。
　He　wrested　his　hand　from　hers　and　backed　away；　his　tongue　fumbling　with　denials。　She　was　far　less　abashed　than　he。　Her　eyes　remained　fixed　on　him；　and　she　called　him　back　into　the　rain　with　words　of　invitation　so　soft　they　were　barely　more　than　sighs。　When　he　continued　to　retreat；　she　turned　to　more　specific　exhortations。
　〃The　Goddess　wants　to　know　you；〃　she　said。　〃She　needs　to　understand　your　purpose。〃
　〃My。。。　Father's。。。　business；〃　Gentle　replied；　the　words　as　much　defense　as　explanation；　shielding　him　from　this　seduction　with　the　weight　of　his　purpose。
　But　the　Goddess；　if　that　was　what　this　rain　really　was；　wouldn't　be　shaken　off　so　easily。　He　saw　a　look　of　distress　cross　his　mother's　face　as　the　vapors　deserted　her　to　move　in　pursuit　of　him。　They　passed　through　a　spear　of　sun　as　they　came；　and　threw　out　rainbows。
　〃Don't　be　afraid　of　Her；〃　Gentle　heard　Clem　say　behind　him。　〃You've　got　nothing　to　hide。〃
　Perhaps　this　was　true；　but　he　kept　on　retreating　nevertheless；　as　much　from　his　mother　as　from　the　vapor；　until　he　felt　the　fort　of　his　angels　at　his　back。
　〃Guard　me；〃　he　told　them；　his　voice　tremulous。
　Clem　wrapped　his　arms　around　Gentle's　shoulders。　〃It's　a　woman；　Maestro；〃　he　murmured。　〃Since　when　were　you　afraid　of　women？〃
　〃Since　always；〃　Gentle　replied。　〃Hold　on；　for　Christ's　sake。〃
　Then　the　rain　broke　against　their　faces；　and　Clem　let　out　a　sigh　of　pleasure　as　its　languor　enclosed　them。　Gentle　seized　hard　hold　of　his　protector's　arms；　his　fingers　digging　deep；　but　if　the　rain　had　the　sinew　to　detach　him　from　Clem's　embrace　it　didn't　attempt　to　do　so。　It　lingered　around　their　heads　for　no　more　than　thirty　seconds；　then　simply　passed　away　through　the　ope