Читать книгу Imajica - Clive Barker, Clive Barker - Страница 48

Without anyone to lead him, Gentle had soon lost his way on the dark hill. But rather than turning round and heading back to await Pie in Beatrix, he continued to climb, drawn by the promise of a view from the heights, and a wind to clear his head. Both took his breath away. The wind with its chill, the panorama with its sweep. Ahead, range upon range receded into mist and distance, the furthest heights so vast he doubted the Fifth Dominion could boast their equal. Behind him, just visible between the softer silhouettes of the foothills, the forests which they’d driven through.

Once again, he wished he had a map of the territory, so that he could begin to grasp the scale of the journey they were undertaking. He tried to lay the landscape out on a page in his mind, like a sketch for a painting with this vista of mountains, hills and plain as the subject. But the fact of the scene before him overwhelmed his attempt to make symbols of it; to reduce it, and set it down. He let the problem go, and turned his eyes back towards the Jokalaylau. Before his gaze reached its destination, it came to rest on the hill slopes directly across from him. He was suddenly aware of the valley’s symmetry, hills rising to the same height, left and right. He studied the slopes opposite. It was a nonsensical quest, seeking a sign of life at such a distance, but the more he squinted at the hill’s face the more certain he became that it was a dark mirror, and that somebody as yet unseen was studying the shadows in which he stood, looking for some sign of him as he in his turn searched for them. The notion intrigued him at first, but then it began to make him afraid. The chill in his skin worked its way into his innards. He began to shiver inside, afraid to move for fear that this other, whoever or whatever it was, would see him, and in the seeing, bring calamity. He remained motionless for a long time, the wind coming in frigid gusts, and bringing with it sounds he hadn’t heard until now. The rumble of machinery; the complaint of unfed animals; sobbing. The sounds and the seeker on the mirror hill belonged together, he knew. This other had not come alone. It had engines, and beasts. It brought tears.

As the cold reached his marrow, he heard Pie’oh’pah calling his name, way down the hill. He prayed the wind wouldn’t veer, and carry the call, and thus his whereabouts, in the direction of the watcher. Pie continued to call for him, the voice getting nearer as the mystif climbed through the darkness. He endured five terrible minutes of this, his system racked by contrary desires: part of him desperately wanting Pie here with him, embracing him, telling him that the fear upon him was ridiculous; the other part in terror that Pie would find him and thus reveal his whereabouts to the creature on the other hill. At last, the mystif gave up on its search, and retraced its steps down into the secure streets of Beatrix.

Gentle didn’t break cover, however. He waited another quarter of an hour until his aching eyes discovered a motion on the opposite slope. The watcher was giving up his post, it seemed, moving around the back of the hill. Gentle caught a glimpse of his silhouette as he disappeared over the brow, just enough to confirm that the other had indeed been human, at least in shape if not in spirit. He waited another minute, then started down the slope. His extremities were numb, his teeth chattering, his torso rigid with cold, but he went quickly, falling and descending several yards on his buttocks, much to the startlement of dozing doeki. Pie was below, waiting at the door of Mother Splendid’s house. Two saddled and bridled beasts stood in the street, one being fed a palmful of fodder by Efreet.

‘Where did you go?’ Pie wanted to know. ‘I came looking for you.’

‘Later,’ Gentle said. ‘I have to get warm.’

‘No time,’ Pie replied. The deal is we get the doeki, food and coats if we go immediately.’

They’re very eager to get rid of us suddenly.’

‘Yes we are,’ said a voice from beneath the trees opposite the house. A black man with pale, mesmeric eyes stepped into view.

‘You’re Zacharias?’

‘I am.’

‘I’m Coaxial Tasko, called the Wretched. The doeki are yours. I’ve given the mystif some supplies to set you on your way, but please … tell nobody you’ve been here.’

‘He thinks we’re bad luck,’ Pie said.

‘He could be right,’ said Gentle. ‘Am I allowed to shake your hand, Mr Tasko, or is that bad luck too?’

‘You may shake my hand,’ the man said.

Thank you for the transport. I swear we’ll tell nobody we were here. But I may want to mention you in my memoirs.’

A smile broke over Tasko’s stern features.

‘You may do that too,’ he said, shaking Gentle’s hand. ‘But not till I’m dead, huh? I don’t like scrutiny.’

That’s fair.’

‘Now, please … the sooner you’re gone the sooner we can pretend we never saw you.’

Efreet came forward, bearing a coat, which Gentle put on. It reached to his shins, and smelt strongly of the animal who’d been born in it, but it was welcome.

‘Mother says goodbye,’ the boy told Gentle. ‘She won’t come out and see you.’ He lowered his voice to an embarrassed whisper. ‘She’s crying a lot.’

Gentle made a move towards the door, but Tasko checked him. ‘Please, Mr Zacharias, no delays,’ he said. ‘Go now, with our blessing, or not at all.’

‘He means it,’ Pie said, climbing up on to his doeki, the animal casting a backward glance at its rider as it was mounted. ‘We have to go.’

‘Don’t we even discuss the route?’

‘Tasko has given me a compass and directions,’ the mystif said. ‘That’s the way we take,’ it said, pointing to a narrow trail that led up out of the village.

Reluctantly, Gentle put his foot in the doeki’s leather stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle. Only Efreet managed a goodbye, daring Tasko’s wrath to press his hand into Gentle’s.

‘I’ll see you in Patashoqua one day,’ he said.

‘I hope so,’ Gentle replied.

That being the full sum of their farewells, Gentle was left with the sense of an exchange broken in mid-sentence, and now permanently unfinished. But they were at least going on from the village better equipped for the terrain ahead than they’d been when they’d entered.

‘What was all that about?’ Gentle asked Pie, when they were on the ridge above Beatrix, and the trail was about to turn and take its tranquil, lamplit streets from sight.

‘A battalion of the Autarch’s army is passing through the hills, on its way to Patashoqua. Tasko was afraid the presence of strangers in the village would give the soldiers an excuse for marauding.’

‘So that’s what I heard on the hill.’

‘That’s what you heard.’

‘And I saw somebody on the other hill. I swear he was looking for me. No, that’s not right. Not me, but somebody. That’s why I didn’t answer you when you came looking for me.’

‘Any idea who it was?’

Gentle shook his head. ‘I just felt his stare. Then I got a glimpse of somebody, on the ridge. Who knows? It sounds absurd now I say it.’

‘There was nothing absurd about the noises I heard. The best thing we can do is get out of this region as fast as possible.’

‘Agreed.’

Tasko said there was a place to the north-east of here, where the border of the Third reaches into this Dominion a good distance - maybe a thousand miles. We could shorten our journey if we made for it.’

That sounds good.’

‘But it means taking the High Pass.’

‘That sounds bad.’

‘It’ll be faster.’

‘It’ll be fatal,’ Gentle said. ‘I want to see Yzordderrex, I don’t want to die frozen stiff in the Jokalaylau.’

‘Then we go the long way?’

‘That’s my vote.’

‘It’ll add two or three weeks to the journey.’

‘And years to our lives,’ Gentle replied. ‘As if we haven’t lived long enough,’ Pie remarked.

‘I’ve always held to the belief,’ Gentle said, ‘that you can never live too long, or love too many women.’