cb.imajica2-第84章

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midst　some　distant　day；　but　would　in　the　meantime　ignore　or　reject　whatever　extraordinary　qualities　the　child　was　blessed　with。
　By　the　middle　of　October　she'd　made　up　her　mind。　She'd　leave　the　Fifth；　with　or　without　Hoi…Polloi；　and　find　some　country　in　the　Imajica　where　the　child；　whether　it　was　a　prophetic；　a　melancholic；　or　simply　priapic；　would　be　allowed　to　flourish。　In　order　to　take　that　journey；　of　course；　she　would　have　to　return　to　Gamut　Street　or　its　environs；　and　though　that　was　not　a　particularly　attractive　prospect；　it　was　better　to　do　so　soon；　she　reasoned；　before　many　more　sleepless　nights　took　their　toll　and　she　felt　too　weak。　She　shared　her　plans　with　Hoi…Polloi；　who　declared　herself　happy　to　go　wherever　Jude　wished　to　lead。　They　made　swift　preparations　and　four　days　later　left　the　flat　for　the　last　time；　with　a　small　collection　of　valuables　to　pawn　when　they　got　to　the　Fourth。
　The　evening　was　cold；　and　the　moon；　when　it　rose；　had　a　misty　halo。　By　its　light　the　thoroughfares　around　Gamut　Street　were　iridescent　with　the　first　etchings　of　frost。　At　Jude's　request　they　went　first　to　Shiverick　Square；　so　that　she　could　pay　her　last　respects　to　Sartori。　Both　his　grave　and　those　of　the　Oviates　had　been　well　disguised　by　Monday　and　Clem；　and　it　took　her　quite　a　while　to　find　the　place　where　he　was　buried。　But　find　it　she　did　and　spent　twenty　minutes　there　while　Hoi…Polloi　waited　at　the　railings。　Though　there　were　revenants　in　the　nearby　streets；　she　knew　he　would　never　join　their　ranks。　He'd　not　been　born；　but　made；　the　stuff　of　his　life　stolen。　The　only　existence　he　had　after　his　decease　was　in　her　memory　and　in　the　child。　She　didn't　weep　for　that　fact；　or　even　for　his　absence。　She'd　done　all　she　could；　weeping　and　begging　him　to　stay。　But　she　did　tell　the　earth　that　she'd　loved　what　it　was　heaped　upon　and　charged　it　to　give　Sartori　fort　in　his　dreamless　sleep。
　Then　she　quit　the　graveside；　and　together　she　and　Hoi…Polloi　went　looking　for　the　passing　place　into　the　Fourth。　It　would　be　day　there；　bright　day；　and　she'd　call　herself　by　another　name。
　Number　28　was　noisy　that　night；　the　cause　a　celebration　in　honor　of　Irish；　who'd　that　afternoon　been　released　from　prison；　having　served　a　three…month　sentence　for　petty　theft；　and　had　arrived　on　the　doorstep…with　Carol；　Benedict；　and　several　cases　of　stolen　whisky…to　toast　his　release。　The　house　was　by　now　a　trove　of　treasures…all　gifts　to　the　Maestro　from　Tick　Raw's　excursionists…and　there　was　no　end　to　the　drunken　fooling　these　artifacts；　many　of　them　total　enigmas；　inspired。　Gentle　was　feeling　as　facetious　as　Irish；　if　not　more　so。　After　so　many　weeks　of　abstinence　the　substantial　amounts　of　whisky　he'd　imbibed　had　his　head　spinning；　and　he　resisted　Clem's　attempts　to　engage　him　in　serious　conversation；　despite　the　latter's　insistence　that　the　matter　was　urgent。　Only　after　some　persuading　did　he　follow　Clem　to　a　quieter　place　in　the　house；　where　his　angels　told　him　that　Judith　was　in　the　vicinity。　He　was　somewhat　sobered　by　the　news。
　〃Is　she　ing　here？〃　he　asked。
　〃I　don't　think　so；〃　Clem　said；　his　tongue　passing　back　and　forth　over　his　lips　as　though　her　taste　was　upon　them。　〃But　she's　close。〃
　Gentle　didn't　need　further　prompting。　With　Monday　in　tow　he　went　out　into　the　street。　There　were　no　living　creatures　in　sight。　Only　the　revenants；　listless　as　ever；　their　joy…lessness　made　all　the　more　apparent　by　the　sound　of　merrymaking　that　emanated　from　the　house。
　〃I　don't　see　her；〃　Gentle　said　to　Clem；　who　had　followed　them　out　as　far　as　the　step。　〃Are　you　sure　she's　here？〃
　It　was　Tay　who　replied。　〃You　think　I　wouldn't　know　when　Judy　was　near？　Of　course　I'm　certain。〃
　〃Which　direction？〃　Monday　wanted　to　know。
　Now　Clem　again；　cautioning；　〃Perhaps　she　doesn't　want　to　see　us。〃
　〃Well；　I　want　to　see　her；〃　Gentle　replied。　〃At　least　a　drink；　for　old　time's　sake。　Which　direction；　Tay？〃
　The　angels　pointed；　and　Gentle　headed　off　down　the　street；　with　Monday；　bottle　in　hand；　close　on　his　heels。
　The　fog　that　let　onto　the　Fourth　looked　inviting：　a　slow　wave　of　pale　mist　that　turned　and　turned　on　itself；　but　never　broke。　Before　she　and　Hoi…Polloi　stepped　into　it；　Jude　took　a　few　moments　to　look　up。　The　Plow　was　overhead。　She　wouldn't　be　seeing　it　again。　Then　she　said；　〃That's　enough　goodbyes；〃　and　together　they　took　a　step　into　the　mist。
　As　they　did　so　Jude　heard　the　sound　of　running　feet　in　the　alleyway　behind　them　and　Gentle；　calling　her　name。　She'd　been　aware　that　their　presence　might　be　detected　and　had　schooled　them　both　in　how　best　to　respond。　Neither　woman　turned。　They　simply　picked　up　their　pace　and　headed　on　through　the　mist。　It　thickened　as　they　went；　but　after　a　dozen　steps　daylight　began　to　filter　through　from　the　other　side；　and　the　fog's　clammy　cold　gave　way　to　balm。　Again；　Gentle　called　after　her；　but　there　was　a　motion　up　ahead；　and　it　all　but　drowned　out　his　call。
　Back　in　the　Fifth；　Gentle　came　to　a　halt　at　the　edge　of　the　fog。　He'd　sworn　to　himself　that　he'd　never　leave　the　Dominion　again；　but　the　drink　swilling　in　his　system　had　weakened　his　resolve。　His　feet　itched　to　go　after　her　into　the　fog。
　〃Well；　boss；〃　Monday　said。　〃Are　we　going　or　aren't　we？〃
　〃Do　you　care　either　way？〃
　〃Yes；　as　it　happens。〃
　〃You'd　still　like　to　get　your　hands　on　Hoi…Polloi；　huh？〃
　〃I　dream　about　her；　boss。　Cross…eyed　girls；　every　night。〃
　〃Ah；　well；〃　Gentle　said。　〃If　we're　chasing　dreams；　then　I　think　that's　good　reason　to　go。〃
　〃Yeah？〃
　〃In　fact　it's　the　only　reason。〃
　He　grabbed　hold　of　Monday's　bottle　and　took　a　healthy　swig　from　it。
　〃Let's　do　it；〃　he　said；　and　together　they　plunged　into　the　fog；　running　over　ground　that　softened　and　brightened　as　they　went；　paving　stones　being　sand；　night　being　day。
　They　caught　sight　of　the　women　briefly；　gray　silhouettes　against　the　peacock　sky　ahead；　then　lost　them　again　as　they　gave　chase。　The　gleam　of　day　grew；　however；　and　so　did　the　sound　of　voices；　which　rose　to　the　din　of　an　excited　crowd　as　they　emerged　from　the　passing　place。　There　were　buyers；　sellers；　and　thieves　on　every　side；　and；　disappearing　into　the　throng；　the　women。　They　followed　with　renewed　fervor；　but　the　tide　of　people　conspired　to　keep　them　from　their　quarry；　and　after　half　an　hour　of　fruitless　pursuit；　which　finally　brought　them　back　to　the　fog　and　the　mercial　hubbub　which　surrounded　it；　they　had　to　admit　that　they'd　been　outmaneuvered。
　Gentle　was　tetchy　now；　his　head　no　longer　buzzing　but　aching。　〃They're　away；〃　he　said。　〃Let's　give　up　on　it。〃
　〃Shit。〃
　〃People　e；　people　go。　You　can't　afford　to　get　attached　to　anyone。〃
　〃It's　too　late；〃　Monday　said　dolefully。　〃I　am。〃
　Gentle　squinted　at　the　fog；　his　lips　pursed。　It　was　a　cold　October　on　the　other　side。
　〃I　tell　you　what；〃　he　said　after　a　little　time。　〃We'll　wander　over　to　Vanaeph　and　see　if　we　can　find　Tick　Raw。　Maybe　he　can　help　us。〃
　Monday　beamed。　〃You're　a　hero；　boss。　Lead　the　way。〃
　Gentle　went　on　tiptoe；　attempting　to　orient　himself。
　〃Trouble　is；　I　haven't　a　bloody　clue　where　Vanaeph　is；〃　he　said。
　He　collared　the　nearest　passerby　and　asked　him　how　to　get　to　the　Mount。　The　fellow　pointed　over　the　heads　of　the　crowd；　leaving　the　boss　and　his　boy　to　burrow　their　way　to　the　edge　of　the　market；　where　they　had　a　view　not　of　Vanaeph　but　of　the　walled　city　that　stood　between　them　and　the　Mount　of　Lipper　Bayak。　The　grin　reappeared　on　Monday's　face；　broader　than　ever；　and　on　his　lips　the　name　he'd　so　often　breathed　like　an　enchantment。
　〃Patashoqua？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃We　painted　it　on　the　wall　together；　d'you　remember？〃
　〃I　remember。〃
　〃What's　it　like　inside？〃
　Gentle　was　peering　at　the　bottle　in　his　hand；　wondering　if　the　peculiar　exhilaration　he　felt　was　going　to　pass　with　the　headache　that　acpanied　it。
　〃Boss？〃
　〃What？〃
　〃I　said；　what's　it　like　inside？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　I've　never　been。〃
　〃Well；　shouldn't　we？〃
　Gentle　thrust　the　bottle　at　Monday　and　sighed；　a　lazy；　easy　sigh　that　ended　in　a　smile。　〃Yes；　my　friend；〃　he　said。　〃I　think　maybe　we　should。〃
　
　Thus　began　the　last　pilgrimage　of　the　Maestro　Sartori…　called　John　Furie　Zacharias；　or　Gentle；　the　Reconciler　of　Dominions…across　the　Imajica。
　He　hadn't　intended　it　to　be　a　pilgrimage　at　all；　but　having　promised　Monday　that　they　would　find　the　woman　of　his　dreams；　he　couldn't　bring　himself　to　desert　the　boy　and　return　to　the　Fifth。　They　began　their　search；　of　course；　in　Patashoqua；　which　was　more　prosperous　than　ever　these　days；　with　its　proximity　to　the　newly　reconciled　Dominion　creating　businesses　every　day。　After　almost　a　year　of　wondering　what　the　city　would　be　like；　Gentle　was　inevitably　somewhat　disappointed　once　he　got　inside　its　walls；　but　Monday's　enthusiasm　was　a　sight　in　itself；　and　a　poignant　reminder　of　his　own　astonishment　when　he　and　Pie　had　first　entered　the　Fourth。
　Unable　to　trace　the　women　in　the　city；　they　went　on　to　Vanaeph；　hoping　to　find　Tick。　He　was　off　traveling；　they　were　told；　but　one　sharp…sighted　individual　claimed　to　have　seen　two　women　who　fitted　the　description　of　Jude　and　Hoi…Polloi　hitching　a　ride　at　the　edge　of　the　highway。　An　hour　later；　Gentle　and　Monday　were　doing　the　same　thing；　and　the　pursuit　that　was　to　take　them　across　the　Dominions　began　in　earnest。
　For　the　Maestro　the　journey　was　very　different　from　those　that　had　preceded　it。　The　first　time　he'd　made　this　trek　he'd　traveled　in　ignorance　of　himself；　failing　to　prehend　the　significance　of　the　people　he'd　met　and　the　places　he'd　seen。　The　second　time　he'd　been　a　phantom；　flying　at　the　speed　of　thought　between　members　of　the　Synod；　his　business　too　urgent　to　allow　him　to　appreciate　the　myriad　wonders　he　was　passing　through。　But　now；　finally；　he　had　both　the　time　and　the　prehension　to　make　sense　of　his　pilgrimage；　and；　having　begun　the　journey　reluctantly；　he　soon　had　as　much　taste　for　it　as　his　panion。
　Word　of　the　changes　in　Yzordderrex　had　spread　even　to　the　tiniest　villages；　and　the　demise　of　the　Autarch's　Empire　was　everywhere　cause　for　jubilation。　Rumors　of　the　Imajica's　healing　had　also　spread；　and　when　Monday　told　people　where　he　and　his　quiet　panion　came　from　（which　he　was　wont　to　do　at　the　vaguest　cue）　they　were　plied　with　drinks　and　grilled　for　news　of　the　paradisiacal　Fifth。　Many　of　their　questioners；　knowing　that　the　door　into　that　mystery　finally　stood　open；　were　planning　to　visit　the　Fifth　and　wanted　to　know　what　gifts　they　should　take　with　them　into　a　Dominion　that　was　already　so　full　of　marvels。　When　this　question　was　put；　Gentle；　who　usually　let　Monday　do　the　talking　during　these　interviews；　invariably　spoke　up。
　〃Take　your　family　histories；〃　he'd　say。　〃Take　your　poems。　Take　your　jokes。　Take　your　lullabies。　Make　them　understand　in　the　Fifth　what　glories　there　are　here。〃
　People　tended　to　look　at　him　askance　when　he　answered　in　this　fashion；　and　told　him　that　their　jokes　and　their　family　histories　didn't　seem　particularly　glorious。　Gentle　would　simply　say；　〃They're　you。　And　you're　the　best　gift　the　Fifth　could　be　given。〃
　〃You　know；　we　could　have　made　a　fortune　if　we'd　brought　a　few　maps　of　England　with　us；〃　Monday　remarked　one　day。
　〃Do　we　care　about　fortunes？〃　Gentle　said。
　〃You　might　not；　boss；〃　Monday　replied。　〃Personally；　I'm　much　in　favor。〃
　He　was　right；　Gent