tg.stone of tears-第47部分

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hite　sand　that　sparkled　with　little　points　of　prismatic　light。　It　looked　like　the　descriptions　of　sorcerer’s　sand　she　had　heard；　although　she　had　never　actually　seen　any。　It　stood　out　clearly　in　the　candlelight；　and　the　light　of　the　moon　overhead。
　
　Symbols　were　drawn　with　the　same　white　sand。　They　were　inside　the　circle；　points　of　them　touching　the　outer　boundary　of　the　circle　at　irregular　intervals。　Margaret　had　never　seen　the　symbols　before；　but　she　knew　some　of　the　elements　of　them　from　an　old　book。　They　spoke　to　the　underworld。
　
　About　halfway　in　from　the　outer　white　line　and　candles；　eleven　sisters　sat　in　a　circle。　Margaret　stared　harder；　trying　to　see　in　the　dim；　flickering　light。　It　looked　as　if　each　had　a　hood　over　her　head；　with　holes　cut　for　the　eyes。　They　chanted　in　unison。　Shadows　from　the　Sisters　extended　inward　to　a　point　in　the　center。
　
　In　the　center　lay　a　woman；　naked；　except　for　a　hood　like　the　others。　She　lay　on　her　back；　her　hands　crossed　over　her　breasts；　her　legs　pressed　together。
　
　Twelve。　With　the　one　in　the　center；　that　made　twelve。　She　searched　the　circle　of　Sisters　again。　Even　with　the　candles；　it　was　still　dark；　and　the　candles　were　to　the　Sisters’　backs。
　
　Her　eyes　stopped　on　a　form　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　circle。　Her　breath　caught　in　her　throat。　That　form　was　larger　than　the　rest。　It　was　hunched；　its　head　lowered；　and　without　a　hood。　It　sat　at　a　convergence　of　lines　in　the　symbols。
　
　It　was　not　a　Sister。　With　a　start；　she　saw　the　faint　orange　glow。　The　statue　with　the　quillion　was　resting　in　its　lap。
　
　She　and　Jedidiah　crouched；　frozen；　watching　the　circle　of　Sisters　as　they　chanted。　After　a　time；　one　of　them；　to　the　side　of　the　hunched　form；　stood。　The　chanting　stopped。　She　spoke　short；　sharp　words　in　a　language　Margaret　didn’t　know。　At　points　in　the　speech；　her　hand　shot　into　the　air；　flinging　sparkling　dust　over　the　naked　woman　in　the　center。　The　dust　ignited；　bathing　the　hooded　Sisters　with　brief；　harsh　light。　At　the　flash；　they　all　answered　with　odd；　rhyming　words。　She　and　Jedidiah　exchanged　looks；　her　own　confused；　frightened　feelings　reflected　in　his　eyes。
　
　The　standing　Sister　flung　both　hands　up；　calling　out　a　list　of　strange　words。　She　went　to　the　naked　woman；　stood　at　her　head；　and　threw　up　her　arms　again。　The　sparkling　dust　caught　fire　once　more。　This　time；　the　orange　glow　from　the　quillion　brightened。
　
　The　head　of　the　hunched　form　slowly　rose。　Margaret　made　a　silent　gasp　when　she　saw　the　face　of　the　beast。　Its　fanged　mouth　opened　with　a　low　growl。　The　Sister　drew　a　delicately　wrought　silver　scepter　from　her　cloak；　and　gave　it　sharp　shakes　as　she　chanted　again；　sprinkling　water　over　the　prone　woman。
　
　Something　was　happening　to　the　quillion。　It　brightened；　and　then　dimmed。　The　dark　eyes　of　the　beast　watched　the　naked　woman。　Margaret　stared；　wide…eyed。　Her　heart　pounded　so　hard　it　felt　as　if　it　would　tear　a　hole　in　her　chest。
　
　As　the　quillion　faded；　the　beast’s　eyes　began　to　glow　orange　…　the　same　color　orange　as　the　quillion。　As　the　quillion　dimmed；　the　glow　in　the　beast’s　eyes　intensified；　until　the　little　statue　was　dark；　and　the　thing’s　eyes　shined　bright。
　
　Two　more　Sisters　stood。　They　moved　to　each　side　of　the　first。
　
　The　first　knelt。　Her　hooded　head　lowered；　looking　down　to　the　naked　woman。　‘It　is　time；　if　you　are　sure。　You　know　what　must　be　done；　the　same　as　has　been　done　to　us。　You　are　the　last　to　be　offered　the　gift。　Do　you　wish　to　accept　it？’
　
　‘Yes！　I’m　entitled。　It’s　mine。　I　want　it。’
　
　Margaret　thought　she　knew　both　voices；　but　she　wasn’t　sure　because　the　hoods　muffled　their　words。
　
　‘Then　it　shall　be　yours；　Sister。’　The　other　two　knelt　beside　her　as　she　pulled　a　cloth　from　her　cloak；　twisting　it　between　her　fists。　‘You　must　pass　this　test　of　pain　to　gain　the　gift。　We　cannot　touch　you　with　our　magic　while　it　is　being　done；　but　we　will　help　you　as　best　we　can。’
　
　‘I　will　do　anything。　It’s　mine。　Let　it　be　done。’
　
　The　naked　woman　spread　her　arms。　The　sisters　to　each　side　leaned　with　all　their　weight　on　her　wrists。
　
　The　Sister　at　her　head　held　the　twisted　cloth　over　the　hooded　face。　‘Open　your　mouth；　and　bite　down　on　this。’　She　put　the　cloth　between　the　woman’s　teeth。　‘Now；　open　your　legs。　You　must　keep　them　open。　If　you　try　to　close　them；　it　will　be　a　rejection　of　what　you　are　being　offered；　and　you　will　lose　the　chance。　Forever。’
　
　The　naked　woman　stared　fixedly　up　at　nothing。　She　panted　with　fear；　her　breast　heaving。　Slowly；　she　spread　her　legs。
　
　The　beast　stirred；　giving　a　low　grunt。
　
　Margaret　gripped　Jedidiah’s　forearm；　her　fingers　digging　into　him。
　
　The　beast　sniffed　the　air。　As　it　slowly　unfolded　itself；　Margaret　saw　that　it　was　larger　than　it　had　looked　when　it　was　all　hunched　over。　It　was　powerfully　built；　looking　mostly　like　a　man。　Flickers　of　candlelight　reflected　off　sweat…slicked；　knotted　muscles　of　its　arms　and　chest。　Downy　hair　started　at　the　narrow　hips；　growing　coarser　farther　down　the　legs；　to　the　ankles；　where　it　was　the　longest；　thickest。　But　the　head　was　something　other　than　a　man。　It　was　a　horror　of　anger　and　fangs。
　
　A　long；　thin　tongue　flicked　out；　tasting　the　air。　The　eyes　glowed　orange　in　the　dim　light；　orange　with　the　power　of　the　gift　it　had　absorbed　from　the　quillion。
　
　As　it　stretched　out　on　its　hands　and　knees　toward　the　naked　woman；　Margaret　almost　gasped　aloud；　she　recognized　the　beast。　She　had　seen　a　drawing　of　it　in　an　old　book。　The　same　book　in　which　she　had　seen　drawings　of　some　parts　of　the　spells　before　her。　She　wanted　to　scream。
　
　It　was　a　namble。　One　of　the　Nameless　One’s　minions。
　
　Oh；　dear　Creator；　she　prayed　fervently；　please　protect　us。
　
　Growling　in　a　low　rumble；　its　powerful　muscles　flexing；　its　haunted　eyes　glowing　orange；　the　namble　edged　like　a　huge　cat　toward　the　woman　on　the　ground。　Head　low；　it　crawled　between　her　legs。　In　a　state　of　ragged　fear；　the　woman　still　stared　up　at　nothing。
　
　The　namble　sniffed　at　her　crotch。　Its　long　tongue　flicked　out；　running　over　her。　She　flinched；　making　a　small　jerk　of　a　sound　against　the　cloth　in　her　teeth；　but　she　kept　her　legs　open。　Her　eyes　did　not　move。　She　did　not　look　at　the　namble。　The　Sisters　in　the　circle　began　a　soft　chant。　The　namble　licked　her　again；　slower；　grunting　this　time　as　it　did　so。　She　squealed　against　the　rag。　Beads　of　sweat　shimmered　on　her　flesh。　She　kept　her　legs　wide　apart。
　
　Rising　up　on　its　knees；　the　beast　gave　a　throaty　roar　to　the　black　sky。　Its　pointed；　barbed；　erect　phallus　stood　out；　plainly　silhouetted　against　the　candles　beyond。　Muscles　bulged　in　knotted　cords　along　its　arms　and　shoulders　as　the　namble　bent　forward；　putting　a　fist　to　each　side　of　the　woman。　Its　tongue　licked　out　around　her　throat　as　it　gave　a　vibrating　rumble　of　a　growl；　and　then　it　lowered　itself；　covering　her　with　its　massive　form。
　
　Its　hips　hunched　forward。　The　woman’s　eyes　winced　shut　as　she　screamed　against　the　cloth　in　her　teeth。　The　namble　gave　a　quick；　powerful　thrust　and　her　eyes　snapped　open　in　a　panic　of　pain。　Even　with　the　cloth　clenched　in　her　teeth；　her　screams　could　be　heard　over　the　chanting　each　time　the　beast　knocked　the　wind　from　her；　adding　more　force　to　the　shrieks。
　
　Margaret　had　to　force　herself　to　take　a　breath　as　she　watched。　She　hated　these　women；　they　had　given　themselves　over　to　something　unspeakably　evil。　Still；　they　were　her　Sisters；　and　she　could　hardly　bear　to　watch　one　being　hurt。　She　realized　she　was　shaking。　She　clenched　the　gold　flower　at　her　neck　in　one　fist　and　Jedidiah’s　arm　with　her　other　as　tears　streamed　down　her　face。
　
　The　beast　thrashed　at　the　Sister　on　the　ground　as　the　three　Sisters　held　her。　Her　muffled　screams　of　torment　ripped　at　Margaret’s　heart。
　
　The　Sister　holding　the　cloth　finally　spoke。　‘If　you　want　the　gift；　you　must　encourage　him　to　give　it　to　you。　He　will　not　surrender　it　unless　you　overe　his　control　…　unless　you　take　it　from　him。　You　must　win　it　from　him。　Do　you　understand？’
　
　Crying；　her　eyes　shut　tight；　the　woman　nodded。
　
　The　Sister　pulled　the　cloth　away。　Then　he　is　yours　now。　Take　the　gift；　if　you　will。’
　
　The　other　two　released　her　arms　and　the　three　of　them　returned　to　their　places　in　the　circle；　taking　up　the　chanting　with　the　others。　The　woman　let　out　a　wail　that　turned　Margaret’s　blood　to　ice。　It　made　her　ears　hurt。
　
　The　woman　flung　her　arms　and　legs　around　the　namble；　clutching　herself　to　it；　moving　with　it；　moving　with　the　chanting。　Her　screams　died　away　as　she　panted　with　the　effort。
　
　Margaret　could　watch　no　longer。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　swallowed　back　a　wail　of　her　own　that　tried　to　force　itself　from　her　throat。　But　even　with　her　eyes　closed；　it　was　no　better。　She　could　still　hear　it。　Please；　dear　Creator；　she　begged　in　her　mind；　let　it　end。　Please　let　it　end。
　
　And　then；　with　a　husky　grunt；　it　did。　Margaret　opened　her　eyes　to　see　the　namble　still；　its　back　hunched。　It　shuddered；　and　then　slowly　went　limp。　The　woman　struggled　to　breathe　under　its　weight。
　
　With　strength　that　seemed　impossible；　she　at　last　pushed　the　namble　off　her。　Chest　heaving；　it　rolled　to　its　hands　and　knees　and　slunk　back　to　its　place　in　the　circle；　folding　itself　into　a　dark　bundle。　The　chanting　had　stopped。　The　woman　lay　on　the　ground　for　a　time；　panting；　recovering。　She　was　covered　with　a　glistening　sheen　of　sweat　that　reflected　the　yellow　light　of　the　candle　flames。
　
　Taking　one　last；　deep　breath；　the　woman　came　smoothly　to　her　feet。　A　dark　stain　of　blood　ran　down　her　legs。　With　a　calm　awareness　that　sent　a　chill　up　Margaret’s　spine　and　caught　her　breath　short；　the　woman　turned　to　face　her；　pulling　off　her　hood。
　
　The　menacing　orange　glow　in　her　eyes　faded；　and　they　returned　to　the　pale　blue　with　dark　violet　flecks　that　Margaret　knew　so　well。
　
　‘Sister　Margaret。’　Her　tone　was　as　mocking　as　the　smile　on　her　thin　lips。　‘Did　you　enjoy　watching？　I　thought　you　might。’
　
　Wide…eyed；　Margaret　rose　slowly　to　her　feet。　Across　the　circle；　the　Sister　who　had　held　the　cloth　also　rose；　and　pulled　off　her　hood。　‘Margaret　dear；　how　nice　of　you　to　show　such　interest　in　our　little　group。　I　didn’t　know　you　were　that　stupid。　Did　you　think　I　let　you　see　the　quillion　in　my　office　by　accident？　That　I　wasn’t　aware　someone　was　interested？　I　had　to　know　who　was　skulking　about；　looking　into　things　that　were　none　of　their　concern。　I　let　you　see　it。　I　wasn’t　sure　though；　until　you　followed　us。’　Her　smile　froze　Margaret’s　breathing。　‘Think　we　are　fools？　I　saw　the　pool　of　Han　you　cast　for　us　to　step　in。　I　obliged　you。　Such　a　shame。　For　you。’
　
　Margaret’s　hand　was　clutched　tightly　around　the　gold　flower　at　her　neck；　her　fingernails　digging　into　her　palm。　How　could　they　have　seen　the　pool　of　her　Han？　The　answer　was　tragically　simple：　she　had　underestimated　them。　Underestimated　what　they　could　do　with　the　gift。　Her　mistake　was　going　to　cost　her　her　life。
　
　But　only　her。　Only　her。　Please；　dear　Creator；　only　her。　She　could　sense　Jedidiah　close　at　her　side。
　
　‘Jedidiah；’　she　whispered；　‘run。　I’ll　try　to　hold　them　off　while　you　escape。　Run；　my　love。　Run　for　your　life。’
　
　His　powerful　hand　came　up　and　gripped　her　upper　arm。　‘I　don’t　think　so；　‘my　love。’’　Her　eyes　were　captured　by　his　cruelly　empty　expression。　‘I　tried　to　save　you；　Margaret。　I　tried　to　get　you　to　turn　back。　But　you　wouldn’t　listen。’　He　glanced　to　the　Sister　across　the　clearing。　‘If　I　got　her　oath；　couldn’t　we　just。。。’　The　Sister　glared　back。　He　sighed。　‘No；　I　suppose　we　couldn’t。’
　
　He　gave　her　a　strong　shove　into　the　clearing。　She　came　to　a　stumbling　stop　at　the　edge　of　the　candles。　She　had　gone　numb。　Her　mind　refused　to　work。　Her　voice　refused　to　work。
　
　The　Sister　across　the　circle　clasped　her　hands　together；　looking　to　Jedidiah。　‘Has　she　told　anyone　else？’
　
　‘No。　Just　me。　She　was　looking　for　proof　before　she　went　to　anyone　else　for　help。’　His　eyes　returned　to　her。　‘Isn’t　that　right；　my　love？’　He　shook　his　head　again；　the　smirk　of　a　smile　touching　his　lips。　Lips　she　had　kissed。　She　felt　sick。　She　felt　like　the　biggest　fool　the　Creator　had　ever　seen。　‘Such　a　shame。’
　
　‘You　have　done　well；　Jedidiah。　You　will　be　rewarded。　And　as　for　you；　Margaret　。。。　well；　tomorrow　Jedidiah　will　report　that　after　trying　to　avoid　the　insistent　affections　of　an　older　woman；　he　finally　and　firmly　rejected　you　for　good；　and　you　ran　away　in　shame　and　humiliation。　If　they　e　here　and　find　your　bones；　it　will　confirm　their　fears　that　you　chose　to　end　your　life　because　you　felt　unworthy　to　live　any　longer　as　a　Sister　of　the　Light。’
　
　The　dark…flecked　eyes　glided　back　to　Margaret。　‘Let　me　have　her。　Let　me　test　my　new　gift。　Let　me　taste　it。’
　
　Those　eyes　kept　Margaret　frozen；　her　hand　still　clutching　the　gold　flower　at　her　neck。　She　could　hardly　breathe　through　the　numbing　agony　of　knowing　Jedidiah　had　betrayed　her。
　
　She　had　prayed　to　the　Creator　to　give　Jedidiah　strength；　strength　to　help　others。　She　had　had　no　idea　who　those　others　would　be。　The　Creator　had　answered　her　prayers；　foolish　as　they　had　been。
　
　When　the　Sister　consented；　the　thin　lips　widened　in　a　greedy　grin。　Margaret　felt　naked；　helpless；　in　the　penetrating　gaze　of　those　flecked　eyes。
　
　At　last；　Margaret　made　her　mind　work。　Her　thoughts　sprang　to　a　terrified　groping　for　a　way　of　escape。　She　could　only　think　of　one　thing　to　do；　before　it　was　too　late。　With　panicked　abandon；　she　let　her　Han　explode　through　every　fiber　of　herself；　and　brought　forth　a　shield；　the　most　powerful　shield　she　knew　…　a　shield　of　air。　She　made　it　hard　as　steel。　Impenetrable。　She　poured　her　hurt　and　hate　into　it。
　
　The　thin　smile　never　left。　The　flecked　eyes　didn’t　move。　‘Air；　is　it　then？　With　the　gift；　I　can　see　it　now。　Shall　I　show　you　what　I　can　do　with　air？　What　the　gift　can　do　with　it？’
　
　‘The　Creator’s　power　will　protect　me；’　Margaret　managed。
　
　The　thin　smile　turned　to　a　sneer。　‘You　think　so？　Let　me　show　you　the　Creator’s　impotence。’
　
　Her　hand　came　up。　Margaret　expected　a　ball　of　Wizard’s　Fire。　It　wasn’t；　it　was　a　ball　of　air　so　dense　she　could　see　it；　see　it　ing。　It　was　so　dense　it　distorted　what　was　seen　through　it。　Margaret　could　hear　the　whoosh　of　its　approach；　the　wail　of　its　power。　It　went　through　her　shield　like　flaming　pitch　through　paper。
　
　It　shouldn’t　have　been　able　to　do　that；　her　shield　was　air。　Air　should　not　have　been　able　to　break　a　shield　of　air；　not　a　shield　as　strong　as　she　had　made。　But　this　was　air　made　not　by　a　mere　Sister；　but　one　with　the　gift。　A　wizard’s　gift。
　
　Confused；　Margaret　realized　she　was　lying　on　the　ground；　looking　up　at　the　stars；　pretty　stars：　the　Creator’s　stars。　She　couldn’t　draw　a　breath。　Simply　couldn’t。
　
　She　thought　it　odd；　she　didn’t　remember　the　air　hitting　her。　Only　her　breath　being　ripped　violently　from　her　lungs。　She　felt　cold；　but　there　was　something　warm　against　her　face。　Warm　and　wet。　It　was　a　fort。
　
　Her　legs　didn’t　seem　to　work。　Try　as　she　might；　she　couldn’t　make　them　move。　With　the　greatest　of　effort；　she　managed　to　lift　her　head　a　bit。　The　Sisters　hadn’t　moved；　but　now　somehow；　they　were　farther　away。　They　all　watched　her。　Margaret　look