bl.necroscope2-第17部分

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　The　car's　over　there；〃　said　Ilya；　pointing　east；　〃around　the　curve　of　the　hill　and　behind　the　trees。　We'll　cut　through　the　trees　downhill　to　the　track；　then　follow　our　own　ski…tracks　back　to　the　car。　Cutting　off　the　corner　will　save　us　maybe　half　a　kilometre；　and　it　will　be　a　lot　easier　than　walking　in　deep　snow。　Easier　for　me；　anyway。　Once　we're　back　on　the　track　you　can　go　on　skis；　a　gentle　glide；　and　when　the　car's　in　sight；　then　you　can　go　on　ahead　and　get　her　going。　But　we'll　have　to　get　a　move　on。　It　will　be　gloomy　now　under　those　trees；　and　in　another　half…hour　the　sun　will　be　down。　We　won't　want　to　be　in　the　wood　too　long　after　that。〃
　Then　he'd　hoisted　Georgina's　skis　to　his　shoulder　and　they'd　left　the　firebreak　for　the　shelter　and　the　silence　of　the　trees。
　At　first　they'd　made　good　headway；　so　good　in　fact　that　she　had　almost　stopped　worrying。　But　there　was　that　about　the　hillside　which　oppressed…a　quiet　too　intense；　a　sense　of　ages　passing　or　passed　like　a　few　ticks　of　some　vast　clock；　and　of　something　waiting；　watching…so　that　she　only　desired　to　get　down　off　the　hill　and　back　out　into　the　open。　She　supposed　that　Ilya　felt　it；　too；　this　strange　genius　loci；　for　he　had　said　very　little　and　even　his　breathing　was　quiet　as　they　made　their　way　diagonally　down　through　the　trees；　moving　from　bole　to　black　bole；　avoiding　the　more　precipitous　places　as　much　as　possible。
　Then　they　had　reached　a　place　where　leaning　stumps　of　stone；　the　bedrock　itself；　stuck　up　through　the　soil　and　leaf…mould；　following　which　they　had　to　negotiate　an　almost　sheer　face　of　crumbling　rock　down　to　a　levelled　area。　And　as　he　helped　her　down；　so　they　had　noticed　the　handiwork　of　man　there　under　the　dark　trees。
　They　stood　upon　lichen…clad　stone　flags　in　front　of。。。a　mausoleum？　That's　what　the　tumbled　ruins　had　looked　like；　anyway。　But　here？　Georgina　had　nervously　clutched　Ilya's　arm。　This　could　hardly　be　considered　a　holy　place　or　hallowed　ground；　not　by　any　stretch　of　the　imagination。　It　seemed　that　unseen　presences　moved　here；　lending　their　motion　to　the　musty　air　without　disturbing　the　festoons　of　cobwebs　and　dangling　fingers　of　dead　twigs　that　hung　down　from　higher　areas　of　gloom。　It　was　a　cold　place…but　lacking　the　normal；　invigorating　cold　of　winter…where　the　sun　had　only　rarely　broken　through　in。。。　how　many　centuries？
　Hewn　from　the　raw　stone　of　the　hillside　itself；　the　tomb　had　long　since　caved　in；　most　of　its　roof　of　massive　slabs　lay　in　a　tangle　of　broken　masonry；　where　the　flags　of　the　floor　were　cracked　and　arched　upwards　from　the　achingly　slow　groping　of　great　roots。　A　broken　stone　joist；　leaning　now　against　the　thickly　matted　ruin　of　a　side　wall；　had　once　formed　the　lintel　above　the　tomb's　wide　entrance；　it　bore　a　vague　motif　or　coat　of　arms；　hard　to　make　out　in　the　gloom。
　Ilya；　who　had　always　had　a　fascination　for　antiquities　of　all　sorts；　had　gone　to　kneel　beside　the　great　sloping　slab　and　gouge　dirt　from　its　carved　legend。　〃Well；　now！〃　his　voice　had　sounded　hushed。　〃And　what　are　we　to　make　of　this；　eh？〃
　Georgina　had　shuddered。　〃I　don't　want　to　make　any…thing　of　it！　This　is　an　entirely　horrid　place。　e　away；　let's　go　on。〃
　〃But　look…there　are　heraldic　markings　here。　At　least　I　suppose　that's　what　they　are。　This　one；　at　the　bottom　is。。。　a　dragon？　Yes；　with　one　forepaw　raised；　see？　And　above　it…I　can't　quite　make　it　out。〃
　〃Because　the　sun　is　setting！〃　she'd　cried。　〃It's　getting　gloomier　by　the　moment。〃　But　she　had　gone　to　peer　over　his　shoulder　anyway。　The　dragon　had　been　quite　clearly　worked；　a　proud…looking　creature　chipped　from　the　stone。
　〃And　that's　a　bat！〃　Georgina　had　said　at　once。　〃A　bat　in　flight；　over　the　dragon's　back。〃
　Ilya　had　hurriedly　cleaned　away　more　dirt　and　lichen　from　the　old　chiselled　grooves；　and　a　third　carved　symbol　had　e　to　light。　But　the　great　lintel；　which　had　seemed　firmly　enough　bedded；　had　suddenly　shifted；　started　to　topple　as　the　rotting　wall　gave　way。
　Pushing　Georgina　back；　Ilya　had　thrown　himself　off　balance。　Trying　to　scramble　backwards　himself；　he'd　somehow　got　his　leg　sticking　straight　out　in　front　of　him；　directly　under　the　toppling　lintel。　Still　sprawling　there　as　the　slab　fell；　his　cry　of　agony　and　the　nerve…grating　crunch　as　his　leg　broke　and　jagged　bone　sheared　through　his　flesh　came　simultaneous　with　Georgina's　scream。
　Then；　perhaps　mercifully；　he　had　lost　consciousness。　She　had　leaped　to　free　him　from　the　lintel；　only　to　discover　that　while　it　had　broken　his　leg；　it　had　not　trapped　him。　The　lower　part　of　his　leg　flopped　uselessly　and　fell　at　an　odd　angle　when　she　touched　it；　but　miraculously　it　was　not　pinned。　Then　Georgina　had　seen　and　felt　the　break；　the　splintered　bone　projecting　through　red　flesh　and　cloth；　and　the　repetitive　spurt　of　blood　against　her　hands　and　jacket。
　And　that；　until　the　moment　of　her　awakening；　had　been　the　last　that　Georgina　saw；　felt　or　heard。　Or　rather；　she　had　seen　one　other　thing；　and　then　forgotten　it　at　once　as　she　slumped　to　the　ground。　The　thing　she　saw　had　remained　forgotten；　or　more　properly　suppressed：　it　was　the　third　symbol；　carved　above　the　dragon　and　the　bat；　which　had　seemed　to　leer　at　her　even　as　the　blackness　closed　in。。。
　〃Georgy？　We're　there！〃　Anne's　voice　broke　the　spell。
　Georgina；　reclining　in　the　back　of　the　car；　eyes　almost　closed　in　her　suddenly　pale　face；　gave　a　start　and　sat　upright。　She　had　been　on　the　verge　of　remembering　something　about　the　place　where　Ilya　died；　something　she　hadn't　wanted　to　remember。　Now　she　gulped　air　grate…fully；　forced　a　smile。　〃There　already？〃　She　managed　to　get　the　words　out。　〃I。。。　I　must　have　been　miles　away！〃
　Anne　pulled　the　big　car　into　the　car　park　behind　the　church；　braking　to　a　gentle　halt。　Then　she　turned　to　look　at　her　passenger。　〃Are　you　sure　you're　all　right？〃
　Georgina　nodded。　〃Yes；　I'm　fine。　Maybe　a　little　tired；　that's　all。　e　on；　help　me　with　the　carry…cot。〃
　The　church　was　of　old　stone；　all　stained　glass　and　Gothic　arches；　with　a　cemetery　to　one　side　where　the　headstones　were　leaning　and　crusted　with　grey…green　lichens。　Georgina　couldn't　bear　lichens；　especially　when　they　covered　old　legends　gouged　in　leaning　slabs。　She　looked　the　other　way　as　she　hurried　by　the　graveyard　and　turned　left　around　the　buttressed　corner　of　the　church　towards　its　entrance。　Anne；　almost　dragged　along　on　the　other　handle　of　the　carry…cot；　had　to　break　into　a　trot　to　keep　up。
　〃Goodness！〃　she　protested。　〃You'd　think　we　were　late　or　something！〃　And　in　fact　they　were；　almost。
　Waiting　on　the　steps　in　front　of　the　church；　there　stood　Anne's　fianc6；　George　Lake。　They　had　lived　together　for　three　years　and　only　just　set　a　date；　and　they　were　to　be　Yulian's　godparents。　There　had　been　several　christenings　this　morning；　the　most　recent　party　of　beaming　parents；　godparents　and　relatives　was　just　leaving；　the　mother　radiant　as　she　held　her　child　in　its　christening…gown。　George　skipped　by　them；　came　hurrying　down　the　steps；　took　the　carry…cot　and　said；　〃I　sat　through　the　entire　service；　four　christenings；　all　that　mumbling　and　muttering　and　splashing…and　screaming！　But　I　thought　it　was　only　right　that　one　of　us　be　here　from　start　to　finish。　But　the　old　vicar…Lord；　he's　a　boring　old　fart！　God　forgive　me！〃
　George　and　Anne　might　well　have　been　brother　and　sister；　even　twins。　Toss　opposites　attracting　out　the　window；　thought　Georgina。　They　were　both　five…ninish；　a　bit　plump　if　not　actually　fat；　both　blondes；　grey　eyed；　soft…spoken。　A　few　weeks　separated　their　birth…dates：　George　was　a　Sagittarius　and　Anne　a　Capricorn。　Typically；　he　would　sometimes　put　his　foot　in　it；　she　had　sufficient　of　her　sign's　stability　to　pull　him　out　of　it。　That　was　Anne's　interpretation　of　their　relationship；　she　being　a　lifelong　advocate　of　astrology。
　Leaving　Georgina's　hands　free　to　tidy　herself　up　a　little；　they　now　took　the　carry…cot　between　them　and　made　to　enter　the　church。　The　twin　doors　were　of　oak　under　a　Gothic　arch；　one　standing　half　open　outwards　on　to　the　landing　at　the　head　of　the　steps。　A　wind　came　up　from　nowhere；　blew　yesterday's　confetti　up　in　mad　swirls　and　slammed　the　door　resoundingly　in　their　faces。　Earlier　there　had　been　the　odd　ray　of　sunshine　filtering　through　wispy　grey　clouds；　but　now　the　clouds　seemed　to　mass；　the　sun　was　switched　off　like　a　light　and　it　grew　noticeably　darker。
　〃Not　cold　enough　for　snow；〃　said　George；　turning　his　eyes　apprehensively　up　to　the　sky。　〃My　guess　is　it's　going　to　chuck　it　down！〃
　〃Chuck　it　or　bucket？〃　Anne　was　still　reeling　from　the　door's　slamming；　her　expression　puzzled。
　〃Fuck　it！〃　said　George；　irreverently。　〃Let's　get　in！〃
　A　moment　more　and　the　door　was　shoved　open　from　inside　by　the　vicar。　He　was　lean；　getting　on　a　bit　in　years；　close　to　bald。　His　one　advantage　was　of　great　height；　so　that　he　could　look　down　on　them　all。　He　had　little　eyes　made　huge　by　thick…lensed　spectacles；　and　a　veined　beak　of　a　nose　that　seemed　to　turn　his　head　as　if　it　were　a　weathercock。　His　thinness　gave　the　impression　of　a　mantis；　but　at　the　same　time　he　managed　to　look　owlish。
　A　bird　of　pray！　thought　George；　and　grinned　to　himself。　But　at　the　same　time　he　noted　that　the　old　vicar's　handshake　was　warm　and　full　of　fort；　however　trembly；　and　that　his　smile　was　a　beam　of　pure　goodness。　Nor　was　he　lacking　in　his　own　brand　of　dry　wit。
　〃So　glad　you　could　make　it；〃　he　smiled；　and　nodded　over　Yulian　in　his　carry…cot。　The　baby　was　awake；　his　round　eyes　moving　to　and　fro。　The　vicar　chucked　him　under　his　chubby　chin；　said；　〃Young　man；　it's　always　a　good　idea　to　be　early　for　one's　christening；　punctual　for　one's　wedding；　and　as　late　as　one　can　get　for　one's　funeral！〃　Then　he　peered　frowningly　at　the　door。
　The　freak　gust　of　wind　had　disappeared；　taking　its　confetti　with　it。　〃What　happened　here？〃　the　old　man　lifted　his　eyebrows。　〃That's　odd！　I　had　thought　the　bolt　was　home。　But　in　any　case；　it　takes　a　wind　of　some　power　to　slam　shut　a　door　heavy　as　this　one。　Perhaps　we're　in　for　a　storm。〃　At　the　foot　of　the　door　a　bolt　dragged　squealingly　along　the　groove　it　had　worn　in　old　stone　flags；　and　thudded　down　into　its　bolthole　as　the　vicar　gave　the　door　a　final　push。　〃There！〃　He　wiped　his　hands；　nodded　his　satisfaction。
　Not　such　a　boring　old　fart　after　all；　all　three　thought　the　id