Jo Clayton Dancers 02 Serpent Waltz

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when he saw the brush quiver as the other one crawled away. Missed this time.
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Try it again., deadbone.
He heard a flurry of shots, frowned. None of them hit-ting near him. What ....
The black trax came plunging down, knocked him flat and left him gasping in a
gust of fecal gas, flopped around for another second, then was a naked man
rubbing dirt off his face. Someday I m going to have to take the time to
practice those zhaggin touchdowns. The man wriggled round and stretched out
behind the forequarters of the dead horse. You re Lavan, right?
Yes, but ....
Adlayr Ryan-Turriy, gyes, Biserica. Friend of mine s out there feeling mean.
Give Hev a couple minutes, he ll finish off the Glorymen. Him and that
knife of his. Saaa, I never want him hating me like that.
Biserica? Hev? What ....
Long story. He eased his head up so he could see over Alegay s forequarters.
That does it. He
stood, cupped his hands about his mouth, yelled, Serroi, we need you. This
un s starting a fever. He dropped back to a squat, wiped sweat from his face.
Hot, isn t it? Mind if I help myself to your water?
Traxing always takes the stuffing out of me.
Nay, be free.
Zhaggin Glorymen. He picked the knots loose with a fingernail that
looked a lot like a claw, upended the bag, and gulped down half the water
that was left. Ahhh, that s better. Shooting a good horse like this.
Lavan thought he saw the gyes teeth lengthen, go pointed, then change back or
it could have been the woundfever confusing him. With the tension drained
away, he hadn t enough energy left to talk, let alone ques-tion what was
happening.
He was nearly asleep when he felt a cool hand touch his face. He looked up at
orange eyes set aslant and skin .... Green?
I prefer to think it olive, she said, comfortable laugh-ter bubbling in her
voice. Relax, you re not seeing things. My name is Serroi, I am a healer of
the Biserica.
Biserica ... he ... the gyes ... he said ....
Eh vai, don t think about it. Close your eyes and lie back; we ll have you
well again in just a moment
....
>>
Chaya stood in the road straining to see into the dust cloud rolling toward
them; the Harper said
Lavan was well and coming to meet her, but she d believe it in her body only
when she saw him.
A horse emerged from the dust, a gray with a whitish mane and tail; it was
coming at a gallop, a dark figure bent forward, urging it on. Her breath
caught in her throat and there was a swimming in her head as if she were sunk
in the mill pond with the weir propped open.
The horse slowed as it came up to her; Lavan swung from the saddle and ran
toward her, catching her in his arms, hugging her so tightly against him she
couldn t breathe. When he spoke, there was a groan in his voice and his breath
was hot against her ear. Chaya, my cici, I was afraid I wouldn t find you.
He pushed her away, used his thumb to wipe dust and tear stains from her face.
Serroi told me about the thieves. When she went pale, he shook her. Did you
think I wouldn t want you? His voice went soft and he drew a hand down the
side of her face, the touch making her shiver. Chay, don t you know me
better? I m not whole without you; I haven t been since I was chasing you
round your father s workshop. He turned her half around, dropped his arm over
her shoulder, and walked her back to the fire.
Sekhaya smiled at them and filled two mugs with hot, strong cha. Go sit in
the van, she said. It s the only privacy you ll get for many a day.
>>
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Serroi glanced across the fire at the lovers and sighed. So long since she d
felt that sweetness, that time when two people couldn t get enough of touching
each other and tried to merge into one flesh even when they were walking along
or just sitting by a fire. If Chaya and Lavan had had troubles before this,
and she thought they had, those prickles were swallowed in the joy of this
moment. She scratched at her nose and tuned back in to what Hedivy was saying.
... about Bebek.
Halisan caressed the harp that stood beside her on the blanket, short strong
fingers sliding along the wood. Ahwu, I know what I ve seen, nothing beyond I
can put in words. Bebek is a man who wears a mask to buckle his boots. He has
a reputation for rigid honesty, hard work, and cleverness; for being someone
you can trust with your secrets, no matter what they are. Rumor says he has a
finger in almost everything that happens in Bokivada. It s true enough. He
doesn t have friends, only a lot of people who owe him favors and are grateful
he hasn t called them in. He s not known for generosity. The word is that [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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