rz.signoftheunicorn-第25部分

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irection　of　the　palace。。。　Her　form　is　quite　familiar。。。　Approaching；　I　see　that　it　is　Lorraine。。。　She　continues　to　regard　a　point　far　beyond　me；　does　not　hear　me　say　that　I　have　avenged　her　death。
　But　mine　is　the　power　to　be　heard　here。。。　It　hangs　in　the　sheath　at　my　side。
　Drawing　Grayswandir；　I　raise　my　blade　overhead　where　moonlight　tricks　its　patterns　into　a　kind　of　motion。　I　place　it　on　the　ground　between　us。
　〃Corwin！〃
　Her　head　snaps　back；　her　hair　rusts　in　the　moonlight；　her　eyes　focus。
　〃Where　did　you　e　from？　You're　early。〃
　〃You　wait　for　me？〃
　〃Of　course。　You　told　me　to　…　〃
　〃How　did　you　e　to　this　place？〃
　〃This　bench。。。？〃
　〃No。　This　city。〃
　〃Amber？　I　do　not　understand。　You　brought　me　yourself。　I　…〃
　〃Are　you　happy　here？〃
　〃You　know　that　I　am；　so　long　as　I　am　with　you。〃
　I　had　not　forgotten　the　evenness　of　her　teeth；　the　hint　of　freckles　beneath　the　soft　light's　veil。。。
　〃What　happened？　It　is　very　important。　Pretend　for　a　moment　that　I　do　not　know；　and　tell　me　everything　that　happened　to　us　after　the　battle　of　the　Black　Circle　in　Lorraine。〃
　She　frowned。　She　stood。　She　turned　away。
　〃We　had　that　argument；〃　she　said。　〃You　followed　me；　drove　away　Melkin；　and　we　talked。　I　saw　that　I　was　wrong　and　I　went　with　you　to　Avalon。　There；　your　brother　Benedict　persuaded　you　to　talk　with　Eric。　You　were　not　reconciled；　but　you　agreed　to　a　truce　because　of　something　that　he　told　you。　He　swore　not　to　harm　you　and　you　swore　to　defend　Amber；　with　Benedict　to　witness　both　oaths。　We　remained　in　Avalon　while　you　obtained　chemicals；　and　we　went　to　another　place　later；　a　place　where　you　purchased　strange　weapons。　We　won　the　battle；　but　Eric　lies　wounded　now。〃　She　stood　and　faced　me。　〃Are　you　thinking　of　ending　the　truce？　Is　that　it；　Corwin？〃
　I　shook　my　head；　and　though　I　knew　better　I　reached　to　embrace　her。　I　wanted　to　hold　her；　despite　the　fact　that　one　of　us　did　not　exist；　could　not　exist；　when　that　tiny　gap　of　space　between　our　skins　was　crossed；　to　tell　her　that　whatever　bad　happened　or　would　happen　…
　The　shock　was　not　severe；　but　it　caused　me　to　stumble。　I　lay　across　Grayswandir。。。　My　staff　had　fallen　to　the　grass　several　paces　away。　Rising　to　my　knees；　I　saw　that　the　color　had　gone　out　of　her　face；　her　eyes；　her　hair。　Her　mouth　shaped　ghost　words　as　her　head　turned；　searching。　Sheathing　Grayswandir；　recovering　my　staff；　I　rose　once　again。　Her　seeing　passed　through　me　and　focused。　Her　face　grew　smooth；　she　smiled；　started　forward。　I　moved　aside　and　turned；　watching　her　run　toward　the　man　who　approached；　seeing　her　clasped　in　his　arms；　glimpsing　his　face　as　he　bent　it　toward　her　own；　lucky　ghost；　silver　rose　at　the　throat　of　his　garment；　kissing　her；　this　man　I　would　never　know；　silver　on　silence；　and　silver。。。
　Walking　away。。。　Not　looking　back。。。　Crossing　the　promenade。。。
　The　voice　of　Random：　〃Corwin；　are　you　all　right？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Anything　interesting　happening？〃
　〃Later；　Random。〃
　〃Sorry。〃
　And　sudden；　the　gleaming　stair　before　the　palace　grounds。。。　Up　it；　and　a　turn　to　the　right。。。　Slow　and　easy　now；　into　the　garden。。。　Ghost　flowers　throb　on　their　stalks　all　about　me；　ghost　shrubs　spill　blossoms　like　frozen　firework　displays。　Sans　colors；　all。。。　Only　the　essentials　sketched　in；　degrees　of　luminosity　in　silver　the　terms　of　their　claim　on　the　eye。　Only　the　essentials　here。　Is　Tir…na　Nog'th　a　special　sphere　of　Shadow　in　the　real　world；　swayed　by　the　promptings　of　the　id　…　a　full…sized　projective　test　in　the　sky；　perhaps　even　a　therapeutic　device？　Despite　the　silver。　I'd　say；　if　this　is　a　piece　of　the　soul；　the　night　is　very　dark。。。　And　silent。。。
　Walking。。。　By　fountains；　benches；　groves；　cunning　alcoves　in　mazes　of　hedging。。。　Passing　along　the　walks；　up　an　occasional　step；　across　small　bridges。。。　Moving　past　ponds；　among　trees；　by　an　odd　piece　of　statuary；　a　boulder；　a　sundial　（moondial；　here？）；　bearing　to　my　right；　pressing　steadily　ahead；　rounding；　after　a　time；　the　northern　end　of　the　palace；　swinging　left　then；　past　a　courtyard　overhung　by　balconies；　more　ghosts　here　and　there　upon　them；　behind　them；　within。。。
　Circling　around　to　the　rear；　just　to　see　the　back　gardens　this　way；　again；　for　they　are　lovely　by　normal　moonlight　in　the　true　Amber。
　A　few　more　figures；　talking；　standing。。。　No　motion　but　my　own　is　apparent。
　。。。　And　feel　myself　drawn　to　the　right。　As　one　should　never　turn　down　a　free　oracle；　I　go。
　。。。　Toward　a　mass　of　high　hedging；　a　small　open　area　within；　if　it　is　not　overgrown。。。　Long　ago　there　was。。。
　Two　figures；　embracing；　within。　They　part　as　I　begin　to　turn　away。　None　of　my　affair；　but。。。　Deirdre。。。　One　of　them　is　Deirdre。　I　know　who　the　man　will　be　before　he　turns。　It　is　a　cruel　joke　by　whatever　powers　rule　that　silver；　that　silence。。。　Back；　back；　away　from　that　hedge。。。　Turning；　stumbling；　rising　again；　going；　away；　now；　quickly。。。
　The　voice　of　Random：　〃Corwin？　Are　you　all　right？〃
　〃Later！　Damn　it！　Later！〃
　〃It　is　not　too　long　till　sunrise；　Corwin。　I　felt　I　had　better　remind　you　…〃
　〃Consider　me　reminded！〃
　Away；　now；　quickly。。。　Time；　too；　is　a　dream　in　Tir…na　Nog'th。　Small　fort；　but　better　than　none。　Quickly；　now；　away；　going；　again。。。
　。。。　Toward　the　palace；　bright　architecture　of　the　mind　or　spirit；　more　clearly　standing　now　than　the　real　ever　did。。。　To　judge　perfection　is　to　render　a　worthless　verdict；　but　I　must　see　what　lies　within。。。　This　must　be　an　end　of　sorts；　for　I　am　driven。　I　had　not　paused　to　recover　my　staff　from　where　it　had　fallen　this　time；　among　the　sparkling　grasses。　I　know　where　I　must　go；　what　I　must　do。　Obvious　now；　though　the　logic　which　has　seized　me　is　not　that　of　the　waking　mind。
　Hurrying；　climbing；　up　to　the　rearward　portal。。。　The　side…biting　soreness　es　home　again。。。　Across　the　threshold；　in。。。
　Into　an　absence　of　starshine　and　moonlight。　The　illumination　is　without　direction；　seeming　almost　to　drift　and　to　pool；　aimlessly。　Wherever　it　misses；　the　shadows　are　absolute；　occulting　large　sections　of　room；　hallway；　closet；　and　stair。
　Among　them；　through　them；　almost　running　now。。。　Monochrome　of　my　home。。。　Apprehension　overtakes　me。。。　The　black　spots　seem　like　holes　in　this　piece　of　reality　now。。。　I　fear　to　pass　too　near。　Fall　in　and　be　lost。。。
　Turning。。。　Crossing。。。　Finally。。。　Entering。。。　The　throne　room。。。　Bushels　of　blackness　stacked　where　my　eyes　would　drive　down　lines　of　seeing　to　the　throne　itself。。。
　There；　though；　is　movement。
　A　drifting；　to　my　right；　as　I　advance。
　A　lifting；　with　the　drifting。
　The　boots　on　feet　on　legs　e　into　view　as　forward　pressing　I　near　the　place's　base。
　Grayswandir　es　into　my　hand；　finding　its　way　into　a　patch　of　light；　renewing　its　eyetricking；　shapeshifting　stretch；　acquiring　a　glow　of　its　own。。。
　I　place　my　left　foot　on　the　step；　rest　my　left　hand　on　my　knee。　Distracting　but　bearable；　the　throb　of　my　healing　gut。　I　wait　for　the　blackness；　the　emptiness；　to　be　drawn；　appropriate　curtain　for　the　theatrics　with　which　I　am　burdened　this　night。
　And　it　slides　aside；　revealing　a　hand；　an　arm；　a　shoulder；　the　arm　a　glinting；　metallic　thing；　its　planes　like　the　facets　of　a　gem；　its　wrist　and　elbow　wondrous　weaves　of　silver　cable；　pinned　with　flecks　of　fire；　the　hand；　stylized；　skeletal；　a　Swiss　toy；　a　mechanical　insect；　functional；　deadly；　beautiful　in　its　way。。。
　And　it　slides　aside；　revealing　the　rest　of　the　man。。。
　Benedict　stands　relaxed　beside　the　throne；　his　left　and　human　hand　laid　lightly　upon　it。　He　leans　toward　the　throne。　His　lips　are　moving。
　And　it　slides　aside；　revealing　the　throne's　occupant。。。
　〃Dara！〃
　Turned　toward　her　right；　she　smiles；　she　nods　to　Benedict；　her　lips　move。　I　advance　and　extend　Grayswandir　till　its　point　rests　lightly　in　the　concavity　beneath　her　sternum。。。
　Slowly；　quite　slowly；　she　turns　her　head　and　meets　my　eyes。　She　takes　on　color　and　life。　Her　lips　move　again；　and　this　time　her　words　reach　me。
　〃What　are　you？〃
　〃No。　That　is　my　question。　You　answer　it。　Now。〃
　〃I　am　Dara。　Dara　of　Amber；　Queen　Dara。　I　hold　this　throne　by　right　of　blood　and　conquest。　Who　are　you？〃
　〃Corwin。　Also　of　Amber。　Don't　move！　I　did　not　ask　who　you　are　…〃
　〃Corwin　is　dead　these　many　centuries。　I　have　seen　his　tomb。〃
　〃Empty。〃
　〃Not　so。　His　body　lies　within。〃
　〃Give　me　your　lineage！〃
　Her　eyes　move　to　her　right；　where　the　shade　of　Benedict　still　stands。　A　blade　has　appeared　in　his　new　hand；　seeming　almost　an　extension　of　it；　but　he　holds　it　loosely；　casually。　His　left　hand　now　rests　on　her　arm。　His　eyes　seek　me　in　back　of　Grayswandir's　hilt。　Failing；　they　go　again　to　that　which　is　visible　…　Grayswandir　…　recognizing　its　design。。。
　〃I　am　the　great…granddaughter　of　Benedict　and　the　hellmaid　Lintra；　whom　he　loved　and　later　slew。〃　Benedict　winces　at　this；　but　She　continues。　〃I　never　knew　her。　My　mother　and　my　mother's　mother　were　born　in　a　place　where　time　does　not　run　as　in　Amber。　I　am　the　first　of　my　mother's　line　to　bear　all　the　marks　of　humanity。　And　you；　Lord　Corwin；　are　but　a　ghost　from　a　long　dead　past；　albeit　a　dangerous　shade。　How　you　came　here；　I　do　not　know。　But　it　was　wrong　of　you。　Return　to　your　grave。　Trouble　not　the　living。〃
　My　hand　wavers。　Grayswandir　strays　no　more　than　half　an　inch。　Yet　that　is　sufficient。
　Benedict's　thrust　is　below　my　threshold　of　perception。　His　new　arm　drives　the　new　hand　that　holds　the　blade　that　strikes　Grayswandir；　as　his　old　arm　draws　his　old　hand；　which　has　seized　upon　Dara；　back　across　the　arm　of　the　throne。。。　This　subliminal　impression　reaches　me　moments　later；　as　I　fall　back；　cutting　air；　recover　and　strike　an　en　garde；　reflexively。。。　It　is　ridiculous　for　a　pair　of　ghosts　to　fight。　Here；　it　is　uneven。　He　cannot　even　reach　me；　whereas　Grayswandir　…
　But　no！　His　blade　changes　hands　as　he　releases　Dara　and　pivots；　bringing　them　together；　old　hand　and　new。　His　left　wrist　rotates　as　he　slides　it　forward　and　down；　moving　into　what　would　be　corps　a　corps；　were　we　two　facing　mortal　bodies。　For　a　moment　our　guards　are　locked。　That　moment　is　enough。。。
　That　gleaming；　mechanical　hand　es　forward；　a　thing　of　moonlight　and　fire；　blackness　and　smoothness；　all　angles；　no　curves；　fingers　slightly　flexed；　palm　silverscribbled　with　a　half…familiar　design；　es　forward；　es　forward　and　catches　at　my　throat。。。
　Missing；　the　fingers　catch　my　shoulder　and　the　thumb　goes　hooking…whether　for　clavicle　or　larynx；　I　do　not　know。　I　throw　one　punch　with　my　left；　toward　his　midsection；　and　there　is　nothing　there。。。
　The　voice　of　Random：　〃Corwin！　The　sun　is　about　to　rise！　You've　got　to　e　down　now！〃
　I　cannot　even　answer。　A　second　or　two　and　that　hand　would　tear　away　whatever　it　held。　That　hand。。。　Grayswandir　and　that　hand；　which　strangely　resembles　it；　are　the　only　two　things　which　seem　to　coexist　in　my　world　and　the　city　of　ghosts。。。
　〃I　see　it；　Corwin！　Pull　away　and　reach　for　me！　The　Trump　…〃
　I　spin　Grayswandir　out　of　the　bind　and　bring　it　around　and　down　in　a　long；　slashing　arc。。。
　Only　a　ghost　could　have　beaten　Benedict　or　Benedict's　ghost　with　that　maneuver。　We　stand　too　close　for　him　to　block　my　blade；　but　his　countercut；　perfectly　placed；　would　have　removed　my　arm；　had　there　been　an　arm　there　to　meet　it。。。
　As　there　is　not；　I　plete　the　stroke；　delivering　the　blow　with　the　full　force　of　my　right