sheritepper.necromancer nine-第14部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　〃Yes。　And　yours？〃
　〃You　may　call　me　Thynbel；　or　Sambeline。　Or　anything　else　you　would　rather。〃
　I　grasped　at　the　last　name。　Sambeline。　Did　my　mother　arrange　for　you　to　meet　me？〃
　〃Indeed；　no。　She　arranged　for　me　to　meet　the　people　of　Proom　to　pay　them　for　their　trouble　in　guiding　you　here。　Though　they　say　they　are　already　well　paid　since　they　have　your　horse。〃
　〃My　horse？　What　will　they　do　with　my　horse？〃
　〃It　may　be　they　will　sell　him；　but　I　think　they　will　eat　him。〃　I　could　think　of　no　reply　to　this。　It　was　not　a　horse　I　had　loved　or　cared　for；　but　still；　it　was　a　good　horse。　A　well…trained　horse。　A　horse　which　had　served　me　well。　〃If　you　pay　them；　would　they　consent　not　to　eat　the　horse？〃
　〃It　may　be。　Or　I　may　pay　them　and　they　may　eat　the　horse　regardless。　But　I　will　try　for　you。〃
　So　she　did；　engaging　in　a　lengthy　and　intricate　argument；　full　of　words　which　echoed　themselves　endlessly。　At　last　the　little　people　giggled　a　final　round；　held　out　their　hands　for　their　pay；　and　had　put　into　those　hands　a　wealth　of　silvery　bells　and　metal　flutes；　bright　as　the　sun。　They　clasped　my　legs；　slapped　my　sides；　called　me　〃Peter；　eater；　ter；　ter〃　one　last　time　and　went　capering　back　down　the　trail　of　false　fire　into　the　distant　dawn。
　Sambeline　waved　at　them；　turned　to　me；　saying；　〃They　say　they　will　turn　the　horse　loose　in　the　meadows　until　you　return。　Peter。　They　may　do　that。　They　may　forget。　They　may　do　it　and　then　forget　and　eat　it　later。　They　forget　a　lot；　those　little　ones。　They　forget　where　they　put　their　bells　and　flutes。　They　lose　them　by　the　dozens。　So　they　are　always　eager　for　more　and　are　willing　to　be　paid。　If　they　did　not　lose　things；　they　would　not　work　for　us　at　all。　Now　they　will　have　music　for　a　time　and　sing　many　long　songs　of　their　trip　to　the　firelands　with　the　son　of　Mavin　Manyshaped。〃
　I　finished　packing　my　things　into　more　pact　bundles　and　strapped　them　together　into　a　pack　I　could　carry。　She　made　no　offer　to　help；　merely　sneered　at　these　efforts。　I　said；　〃I　must　needs　go　further；　but　you　say　you　are　not　my　guide？〃
　〃No。　I　will　go　with　you　a　short　way。　You　are　in　the　land　of　Schlaizy　Noithn；　the　land　of　the　Shifters。　None　can　guide　you　here。　This　is　Schlaizy　Noithn　and　no　roads　run　the　same　here。　Not　for　long。　Where　do　you　want　to　go？''
　I　sat　upon　the　pack。　The　dawn　had　uncovered　a　green　land；　forested；　flowing　with　rivers　and　spotted　with　pools　and　lakes。　It　lay　beneath　the　height　on　which　we　stood；　stretching　north　and　west　in　a　lovely　bowl　which　cupped　at　the　edge　of　vision　to　other　heights。　〃I　seek　the　monument　of　Thandbar；〃　I　said。　〃Can　you　tell　me　where　to　find　it？〃
　〃You　think　unshifterish；〃　she　mented；　〃when　you　ask　where　in　Schlaizy　Noithn　you　would　find　the　monument　of　Thandbar。〃
　I　thought　on　this。　It　made　a　certain　kind　of　sense。　Thandbar　had　been　the　first　and　greatest　of　Shifters。　Surely　his　memorial　would　not　be　a　stable；　unchanging　thing。　It　would　change；　move；　shift。　〃If　you　had　to　find　it；〃　tasked　her；　〃where　would　you　look？〃
　〃Up　and　down；　here　and　there；　among；　between；　around；　in　and　out　of；〃　she　said。
　〃Upon；〃　I　offered。　〃Within；　beneath；　through　and　over。〃
　〃Exactly。〃　she　replied。　〃That　is　more　shifterish。　There　may　be　hope　for　Mavin's　outland　son。〃
　
　5。　Schlaizy　Noithn
　During　the　time　that　followed　I　learned　of　shifterish　behavior；　and　thoughts；　and　habits。　How　could　this　be　summed　up　so　that　you　will　understand；　you　of　the　world　in　which　mountains　do　not　walk　and　roadways　do　not　run；　you　of　the　world　in　which　you　wake　in　the　same　place　you　have　slept；　find　your　way　by　landmarks；　travel　by　maps　and　charts？　Having　made　one　journey　in　the　little　lake　ship；　I　had　seen；　though　learned　nothing　of　the　art　of；　guidance　by　the　stars。　In　Schlaizy　Noithn；　that　is　what　I　did；　for　nothing　but　the　stars　remained　unchanging　through　the　nights　and　days　of　travel。　I　despair　of　explaining　〃shifterish〃　to　you　except　to　say　that　it　is　difficult　for　one　reared　in　a　Schooltown。　And　yet；　from　what　I　learned　later；　that　rearing　had　been　a　mercy　my　Mother　had　given　me　which　many　young　Shifters　would　have　been　glad　to　receive。　Well；　there　is　no　better　way　to　tell　it　than　to　tell　it；　as　Chance　would　have　said。　So　I　will　tell。
　I　entered　the　country　of　Schlaizy　Noithn　with　Sambeline　walking　beside　me。　I　said　something　or　other；　and　she　replied；　making　a　remark　about　Mavin　being　much　respected　there；　and　after　a　short　silence　I　turned　to　say　something　to　her　but　found　a　huge；　shambling　pombi　walking　beside　me；　its　monstrous　head　swinging　to　and　fro　with　each　step；　long　tongue　lolloped　between　fangs　of　curved　ivory。　I　was　too　frightened　to　do　anything。　My　first　thought　was　that　this　beast　had　killed　Sambeline　and　left　her　bleeding　body　somewhere　behind　us；　but　when　the　beast　looked　up　at　me　abstractedly　before　leaving　the　path　to　climb　a　hollow　tree；　to　which　it　clung　with　one　great；　clawed　foot　while　dipping　into　the　hollow　with　the　other　to　suck　the　honey…dripping　paw　with　every　evidence　of　pleasure；　I　began　to　guess　that　pombi　and　Sambeline　were　one。　When　the　pombi　blurred；　shifted；　and　flew　away　through　the　trees　on　wide　wings　of　softest　white；　calling　a　two　pitched　oo…ooo　as　it　went；　when　the　honey　tree　shock　itself　and　moved　away　through　the　forest　on　roots　suddenly　as　flexible　as　fingers；　leaving　me　alone；　then　I　began　to　know　what　shifterish　meant。　I　began　to　understand　why　it　was　that　Sambeline　had　sneered　at　my　belongings。　Does　a　pombi　need　a　blanket？　A　cookpot？　A　firestarter？　I　put　down　the　pack　and　stared　at　it；　unwilling　to　leave　it　and　yet　sure　it　marked　me　as　nothing　else　could…stranger；　outsider；　outlander。　Was　this　dangerous　or　otherwise？　I　could　not　tell。
　Among　the　Gamesmen　of　Barish　there　were　sixteen　tiny　figures　representing　Shifters。　In　an　ordinary　set　of　Gamesmen；　such　as　are　given　to　children　for　their　little　two…space　games；　these　would　be　the　pawns。　In　my　set；　Shifters；　and　one　of　them；　or　perhaps　all　of　them　held　the　persona　of　Thandbar；　old　sent…far　himself；　shiftiest　of　all。　Presumably　none　of　this　would　have　been　strange　to　him；　and　yet　I　never　thought　of　taking　a　Shifter　figure　into　my　hand；　never　considered　it。　Later　I　wondered　why　I　had　not　done。　It　was　simple　enough：　pride。　Shifting　was　my　own　talent；　the　one　to　which　I　had　been　born。　I　wanted　no　instruction　in　it　from　another。　I　wanted　it　to　be　mine。　So；　out　of　ignorance　and　pride；　all　unprepared　for　what　I　would　meet　or　see　or　be　required　to　do；　I　went　on　into　the　country　of　Schlaizy　Noithn　quite　alone。　　So。　　I　sat　upon　a　hill　beside　a　grotesque　pile　of　stones；　twisted　and　warped　as　though　shaped　thus　when　molten；　making　an　uneasy　meal　of　fish。　These　were　unusual　fish　in　that　they　had　not　howled　and　climbed　up　the　fish　spear　to　engulf　my　hands　with　a　maw　of　ravening　fury　before　melting　into　a　swarm　of　butterflies　and　scattering　into　impalpability　against　the　sky。　Because　these　fish　were　quiet；　these　fish；　reason　said；　were　real　fish；　edible　fish。　Reason　said　that。　Stomach　was　uncertain。
　Beside　me　the　warped　stones　grated　into　speech；　moving　slowly　as　lips　might　if　they　were　as　wide　and　tall　as　a　man。
　〃Whoooo　suuuups　in　Schlaaaaaizeee　Noiiiiithnnnn？〃
　I　said；　〃Peter；　the　son　of　Mavin　Manyshaped；〃　while　trying　to　keep　my　heart　from　leaping　out　of　my　breast。　The　stone　said　nothing　more。　However；　a　long　spit　of　earth　began　to　grow　from　beside　me；　upward　and　outward　like　a　curving　branch　of　the　living　hill；　out　to　turn　again　and　look　at　me；　opening　from　its　tip　a　curious　eye　of　milky　blue；　lashed　with　grasses；　which　blinked；　blinked；　blinked　at　me；　staring。　It　stared　while　the　fish　cooked；　while　I　ate　them；　while　I　scrubbed　my　knife　and　put　it　away；　while　I　put　out　the　fire；　then　turned　to　stare　after　me　still　as　I　walked　away。　When　I　looked　back　at　the　crest　of　the　next　hill；　the　eye　had　grown　a　bit　taller　to　keep　me　in　view。
　Sometimes　the　road　moved。　Sometimes　it　moved　in　the　direction　I　was　going；　sometimes　sideways；　sometimes　backwards。　Sometimes　it　jumped；　like　a　cranky　horse　hopping　when　it　is　first　saddled。　When　the　road　went　against　my　direction；　I　got　off　as　soon　as　possible；　always　apologizing　for　doing　so…or　for　having　been　on　it　in　the　first　place。　It　was　hard　to　walk　unless　there　was　a　road；　for　the　land　was　full　of　impassable　tangles。　Sometimes　the　roads　spoke　to　me；　sometimes　they　cursed　me。　Once　a　road　held　fast　to　my　feet　while　it　carried　me　back　a　full　day's　journey。　Will　you　understand　my　stupidity　when　I　tell　you　that　I　walked　the　day's　journey　again　on　my　own　two　feet；　carrying　my　pack？
　They…whoever　they　were…grew　impatient。
　I　stopped　when　it　grew　dark；　took　my　firelighter　out　of　the　pack　and　laid　kindling　beneath　it；　ready　for　the　spark。　The　kindling　reached　up　and　flipped　it　out　of　my　hands　to　be　caught　by　a　bird　sitting　on　a　stone。　The　bird　flew　away；　carrying　the　firelighter　in　her　claws；　and　I　seemed　to　hear　small；　cawing　laughter　from　the　air。　I　cursed；　cursed　the　place；　the　inhabitants；　myself。　Nothing　seemed　to　hear　me　or　care；　save　that　the　tops　of　the　trees　moved　in　a　wind　I　had　not　felt　till　then　and　clouds　began　to　boil　in　the　sunset；　so　many　puffy　gray　dumplings　in　a　red　soup　of　sky。　Within　moments　it　began　to　rain。　My　kindling　grew　legs　and　walked　into　the　brush。　I　rolled　myself　into　my　blankets　and　nibbled　on　a　handful　of　nuts　collected　during　the　day's　travel。　A　stag　came　out　of　the　forest；　trumpeted　challenge　to　another　which　appeared　from　behind　me；　the　two　charged　one　another　over　my　body。　I　rolled；　frantic；　scraped　across　stones　which　left　me　bleeding；　sat　up　to　see　the　two　stags　running　into　the　trees　my　blankets　caught　upon　their　antlers。
　I　sat　beneath　a　tree；　water　dripping　down　my　neck；　without　blankets；　without　fire；　the　rain　continuing　in　an　endless；　mocking　stream。　Whenever　I　moved；　it　found　me。　There　was　no　shelter　near　except　a　hollow　high　in　the　tree　into　which　wings　flickered　from　time　to　time；　outlined　against　flashes　of　lightning。　I　was　cold。　My　clothes　were　little　use　except　to　hold　some　warmth　against　my　body。　I　felt　a　little　tug　at　one　ankle。　The　next　lightning　flash　showed　a　small；　razor　edged　vine　cutting　the　seams　of　my　trousers　while　a　tendril　sifted　a　kind　of　powder　on　my　boots。　Two　lightning　flashes　later　and　the　boots　were