Archiwum
- Index
- Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 07] Arena of Antares (pdf)
- Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 21] A Fortune for Kregen (pdf)
- James Alan Gardner [League Of Peoples 02] Commitment Hour
- James Alan Gardner [League Of Peoples 07] Radiant
- Foster, Alan Dean Icerigger 1 Icerigger
- Alan Dean Foster The Damned 03 The Spoils of War (v1.0) (Undead)
- Alan Dean Foster The End of the Matter
- Alan Dean Foster The Metrognome And Other Stories
- Foster, Alan Dean The Black Hole
- Edward Balcerzan Liryka Juliana Przybosia
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- stemplofil.keep.pl
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
tall trees instead of the glowing corridor outside the chamber. As she watched, it
seemed that they moved closer, until she was standing just to one side of a towering
forest giant.
Figures stood there, one that she recognized instantly. Colwyn was leaning
back against the shaggy bark. She had no doubt that it was the real Colwyn, her
Colwyn, and not some false image conjured up by the Beast to deceive her.
But who was the lithe young woman who clung so tightly to him, and whose
embrace he did not reject?
She whirled to confront the Beast. "It's a lie! You say you can assume any
form. I have heard of how you manipulate faces and bodies as easily as a sculptor
plays with clay. Why should I believe that that" she gestured at the image before
them "is any more real than the form you cling to now? You are as full of
lies as a solicitor. You think to fool me with clever prevarication, but I am not so
easily swayed."
"Indeed you are not, for you refuse the evidence of your own eyes. These
walls do not lie. I have no reason to deceive you now, not when the truth works for
me. Your Colwyn will betray you."
"He will not!"
"Then he will die," said the Beast calmly. "Either way, you will be rid of
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this silly, immature human infatuation. It will simplify your future."
Lyssa turned back to the image, unable to tear her eyes from it. Go away,
she shouted silently! Vanish, disappear! I don't want to look upon you. But the
image did not vanish, and she continued to stare at it.
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The woman in Colwyn's arms was crying. Lyssa noted out of the corner of an
eye that the Beast seemed to be observing the scene with equal interest. Even as she
stared, the pale blue of the woman's eyes turned to black. Lyssa would have screamed
save that she knew her warning cry would go unheard. Black eyes as black as those of
the Slayers, nearly as black as those of the Beast. The woman was something other
than she appeared, and Lyssa had no way of alerting Colwyn.
Vella clasped the man tightly against her. She could sense that he was
wavering, but still he resisted. "I have not held a man in my arms since my lover
was swallowed up by the sea. It is good. You are a strong man, Colwyn. Lend me some
of that strength."
"I know how painful it is to be far from the one you love," he murmured
uncomfortably. "We share a common pain."
"Then, comfort me for one night, and let me comfort you. Share your strength
with me, Colwyn. Have pity on me."
"Would that I might, but I can't betray my bride."
"One night is no betrayal. None need know what transpires in this place. I
have listened to your men talk, and they say you are not truly married yet."
"It is true the ceremony was not finished."
"Then how can you speak of a betrayal?"
Colwyn's hand moved to touch first his chest, then his forehead. "Betrayal
is more than a word. It is a thing that lies here and here. Not in the loins. I
could comfort you as you desire, but you are wrong when you say none would know of
it. / would know. That would be betrayal enough. I feel sorrow and sympathy for you,
but I do not put aside a great trust so easily. Nor love. I can't take comfort with
you when my true love has none."
"You will not, then?"
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"Vella, in another time, another place, another existence, I would gladly
lie with you. But that would be a different Colwyn, and you would be a different
Vella. I cannot."
"Truly, I would be a different Vella," she whispered. Her right hand was
behind him. It blurred, distorting. The fingers extended and the soft flesh turned
to a horn-tough, scaly substance.
Lyssa could not stifle the useless scream in her throat, but Colwyn could
not hear her as the claw rose toward his neck.
It stopped there, hesitating. "My master told me," Vella muttered with
difficulty, as though talking to herself unwillingly, "make him betray her. If he
will not, kill him."
Colwyn frowned down at her, his eyes telling him one thing, his ears
another. But he'd already learned that where possible manifestations of the Beast
were concerned, it was best to trust nothing, least of all one's own senses. He
jumped away from her, his hand reaching toward the dagger at his belt, ready to cry
out and alert his companions.
Yet still, sweet little Vella stood before him. Not even the
inhuman claw she showed him changed that image, though his mind knew better.
"Yes," she said tightly, "he is my master. These talons were a heartbeat
from your throat. I could have killed you in an instant."
"Could have." He did not draw the dagger, though his fingers hovered near
the hilt. "You're still crying. Are those tears manifestations of the Beast as well
as that claw?"
She wiped at her eyes and her voice was confused and angry. "They could be,
but they are not. Nothing is as I was told it would be, nothing is as it seems.
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Uncertainty rules all. I long for the comfort of chaos." She smiled at him and her
expression was distorted and torn. Her face seemed to blur as he looked at her.
"I am his creature that he fashioned too well. To tempt you he had to make
me human, and in making me human his hold strayed. Now I am neither human nor his. I
am a cruel joke, a pitiful jest." The smile broadened, giving her face a lopsided
look. "I have had an hour of life, an hour of love, and this is better than all the
days I have spent as his creature. That love is life for you but death for me. The
last joke is on him, and that is best of all. I cannot comfort you, Colwyn, nor you
me, but neither will he be comforted. Remember me."
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In the Fortress Lyssa turned triumphantly to her jailer. "It is you who are
betrayed, by a thing of your own making. Power is fleeting. Love is eternal. You
cannot even control your own creature. Do not think to control me."
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