cb.imajica2-第75章

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　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；　then　she　headed　towards　the　stairs。　The　currents　which　had　induced　such　disforts　were　no　longer　circling　in　the　system　of　the　house：　sure　sign　that　some　new　phase　of　the　working…possibly　its　last…was　under　way　above。　Clem　joined　her　at　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　armed　with　another　two　of　Monday's　homemade　bludgeons。
　〃How　many　of　these　creatures　are　there　out　there？〃　he　demanded。
　〃Maybe　half　a　dozen。〃
　〃You'll　have　to　watch　the　back　door　then；〃　he　said；　thrusting　one　of　the　weapons　at　Jude。
　〃You　use　it；〃　she　said；　'pressing　past　him。　〃Keep　them　out　for　as　long　as　you　can。〃
　〃Where　are　you　going？〃
　〃To　stop　Gentle。〃
　〃Stop　him？　In　God's　name；　why？〃
　〃Because　Dowd　was　right。　If　he　pletes　the　Reconciliation　we're　dead。〃
　He　cast　the　bludgeons　aside　and　took　hold　of　her。　〃No；　Judy；〃　he　said。　〃You　know　I　can't　let　you　do　that。〃
　It　wasn't　just　Clem　speaking；　but　Tay　as　well：　two　voices　and　a　single　utterance。　It　was　more　distressing　than　anything　she'd　heard　or　seen　outside；　to　have　this　mand　issue　from　a　face　she　loved。　But　she　kept　her　calm。
　〃Let　go　of　me；〃　she　said；　reaching　for　the　banister　to　haul　herself　up　the　stairs。
　〃He's　twisted　your　mind；　Judy；〃　the　angels　said。　〃You　don't　know　what　you're　doing。〃
　〃I　know　damn　well；〃　she　said；　and　fought　to　wrest　herself　free。
　But　Clem's　arms；　despite　their　blistering；　were　unyielding。　She　looked　for　some　help　from　Monday；　but　he　and　Hoi…Polloi　had　their　backs　to　the　door；　against　which　the　gek…a…gek　were　beating　their　massive　limbs。　Stout　as　the　timbers　were；　they'd　splinter　soon。　She　had　to　get　to　Gentle　before　the　beasts　got　in；　or　it　was　all　over。
　And　then；　above　the　din　of　assault；　came　a　voice　she'd　only　heard　raised　once　before。
　〃Let　her　go。〃
　Celestine　had　emerged　from　her　bedroom；　draped　in　a　sheet。　The　candlelight　shook　all　around　her；　but　she　was　steady；　her　gaze　mesmeric。　The　angels　looked　around　at　her；　Clem's　hands　still　holding　Jude　fast。
　〃She　wants　to…〃
　〃I　know　what　she　wants　to　do；〃　Celestine　said。　〃If　you're　our　guardians；　guard　us　now。　Let　her　go。〃
　Jude　felt　doubt　loosen　the　hold　on　her。　She　didn't　give　the　angels　time　to　change　their　mind；　but　dragged　herself　free　and　started　up　the　stairs　again。　Halfway　up；　she　heard。a　shout　and　glanced　down　to　see　both　Hoi…Polloi　and　Monday　thrown　forward　as　the　door's　middle　panel　broke　and　a　prodigious　limb　reached　through　to　snatch　at　the　air。
　〃Go　on！〃　Celestine　yelled　up　to　her；　and　Jude　returned　to　her　ascent　as　the　woman　stepped　onto　the　bottom　stair　to　guard　the　way。
　Though　there　was　far　less　light　above　than　below；　the　details　of　the　physical　world　became　more　insistent　as　she　climbed。　The　flight　beneath　her　bare　feet　was　suddenly　a　wonderland　of　grains　and　knotholes；　its　geography　entrancing。　Nor　was　it　simply　her　sight　that　filled　to　brimming。　The　banister　beneath　her　hand　was　more　alluring　than　silk；　the　scent　of　sap　and　the　taste　of　dust　begged　to　be　sniffed　and　savored。　Defying　these　distractions；　she　fixed　her　attention　on　the　door　ahead；　holding　her　breath　and　removing　her　hand　from　the　banister　to　minimize　the　sources　of　sensation。　Even　so；　she　was　assailed。　The　creaks　of　the　stairs　were　rich　enough　to　be　orchestrated。　The　shadows　around　the　door　had　nuances　to　parade　and　called　for　her　devotion。　But　she　had　a　rod　at　her　back：　the　motion　from　below。　It　was　getting　louder　all　the　time；　and　now…cutting　through　the　shouts　and　roars…came　the　sound　of　Sartori's　voice。
　〃Where　are　you　going；　love？〃　he　asked　her。　〃You　can't　leave　me。　I　won't　let　you。　Look！　Love？　Look！　I've　brought　the　knives。〃
　She　didn't　turn　to　see；　but　closed　her　eyes　and　stopped　her　ears　with　her　hands；　stumbling　up　the　rest　of　the　stairs　blind　and　deaf。　Only　when　her　toes　were　no　longer　stubbed；　and　she　knew　she　was　at　the　top；　did　she　dare　the　sight　again。　The　seductions　began　again；　instantly。　Every　nick　in　every　nail　of　the　door　said；　Stop　and　study　me。　The　dust　rising　around　her　was　a　constellation　she　could　have　lost　herself　in　forever。　She　pitched　herself　through　it；　with　her　gaze　glued　to　the　door　handle；　and　clasped　it　so　hard　the　disfort　canceled　the　beguilings　long　enough　for　her　to　turn　it　and　throw　the　door　open。　Behind　her　Sartori　was　calling　again；　but　this　time　his　voice　was　slurred；　as　though　he　was　distracted　by　profusion。
　In　front　of　her　was　his　mirror　image；　naked　at　the　center　of　the　stones。　He　sat　in　the　universal　posture　of　the　meditator：　legs　crossed；　eyes　closed；　hands　laid　palms　out　in　his　lap　to　catch　whatever　blessings　were　bestowed。　Though　there　was　much　in　the　room　to　call　her　attention…mantelpiece；　window；　boards；　and　rafters…their　sum　of　enticements；　vast　as　it　was；　could　not　pete　with　the　glory　of　human　nakedness；　and　this　nakedness；　that　she'd　loved　and　lain　beside；　more　than　any　other。　Neither　the　blandishments　of　the　。；　walls…their　stained　plaster　like　a　map　of　some　unknown　country…nor　the　persuasions　of　the　crushed　leaves　at　the　^　sill　could　distract　her　now。　Her　senses　were　fixed　on　the　：　Reconciler；　and　she　crossed　the　room　to　him　in　a　few　short　；　strides；　calling　his　name　as　she　went。
　He　didn't　move。　Wherever　his　mind　wandered；　it　was　too　far　from　this　place…or　rather；　this　place　was　too　small　a　part　of　his　arena…for　him　to　be　claimed　by　any　voices　here；　however　desperate。　She　halted　at　the　edge　of　the　circle。　Though　there　was　nothing　to　suggest　that　what　lay　inside　was　in　flux；　she'd　seen　the　harm　done　to　both　Dowd　and　his　voider　when　the　bounds　had　been　injudiciously　breached。　From　down　below　she　heard　Celestine　raise　a　cry　of　warning。　There　was　no　time　for　equivocation。　What　the　circle　would　do　it　would　do；　and　she'd　have　to　take　the　consequences。
　Steeling　herself；　she　stepped　over　the　perimeter。　Instantly；　the　myriad　disforts　that　attended　passage　afflicted　her…itches；　pangs；　and　spasms…and　for　a　moment　…　she　thought　the　circle　intended　to　dispatch　her　across　the　In　Ovo。　But　the　work　it　was　about　had　overruled　such　functions；　and　the　pains　simply　mounted　and　mounted；　driving　her　to　her　knees　in　front　of　Gentle。　Tears　spilled　from　her　knitted　lids；　and　the　ripest　curses　from　her　lips。　The　circle　hadn't　killed　her；　but　another