A Book Of Tongues Read Online Free PDF Page A

levied against my allowing
an occasional ‘lookee’ if some white man wishes to pay for the
privilege, though I charge considerably more than fifty cents. I say white man, because most Celestials already know that the secret
parts of their womenfolk differ in no way from those of any other
female, be she yellow, white . . . or dead.”
    Morrow felt a small shoulder brush lightly against his elbow and
all but fell back, the stock of his shotgun knocking one screen sharp
enough that it rang against the sanctum’s wall like a muffled bell.
The Reverend, no doubt more used to these sorts of tricks, simply
stepped aside, bowing as Songbird settled onto a throne set with a
high silk cushion.
    “Have to decline the kind offer, Honourable Lady,” Rook said.
“Though for all I probably couldn’t afford it, I’m sure it makes a
lovely view. What I’m more interested in, however, is your skill — ”
    “ — as an interpreter of dreams? I know.”
    And here Songbird raised her face to what light there was,
revealing herself as a truly spectral vision: twelve years old at most,
a porcelain doll dressed all in red bridal silk whose features matched
those of the painted courtesans decorating her walls almost exactly,
aside from one peculiarity — a near-complete lack of colour in the
face under her sheer red veil, pig-pale skin, crone-white hair and
faded hazel eyes all bleached by some hideous trick of nature. Her
hands she held folded in her lap, interlaced fingers covered with
long, gilded filigree spikes which gave off a dry, squeaking tone as
they rubbed together, a distant cymbal’s clash.
    “Albino,” the Rev observed. “You must be almost blind, I’d think.”
    A tiny nod. “Almost. Luckily, I find it aids in my speculative
endeavours. And now, since we have dispensed with formalities:
your dream. It began when you first came to power?”
    “Exactly at that same point, yes.”
    “When the gallows-trap opened? Or when your neck broke?”
    The Rev took this in. Though still loomingly tall, he seemed
suddenly smaller, less assured. “I don’t think it ever actually broke ,”
he said, at last.
    Songbird smiled, thinly. “Such prevarication, for such a powerful
man. Show me the kiss she gave you, your ‘Rainbow Lady.’”
    “Thought you said — ”
    “I can feel very well, Reverend.” Voice dropping further: “Now — I
have other business of my own to conduct tonight, as do you, no
doubt. So open your shirt, and bow down to me .”
    Was there an extra thrum to the words she spoke? For Morrow, it
was mere speculation — but from what he could see, Reverend Rook
took them full in the face, a thrown glass of cold water. His huge
hands were already rising to obey, unbidden, when he shook himself
like a dog and hauled them back down again.
    “Little girl,” he said, “you’d best be able to give me what I want.
Or I will tear this damn place of yours down around you, without
ever even opening my Book.”
    Songbird yawned, covering her mouth with those huge gilt nail-sheaths. “We will see.”
    The Rev exhaled through his nose, then popped the requisite
buttons, shrugging collar aside from the puckered rope-scar which
still encircled his thick neck, bent himself until Songbird could
reach up and place her naked palm against the furrowed flesh
without having to rise. She stroked the burn, delicately, like she was
planning to buy more of it by the ell.
    Creepish , Morrow heard Chess’s voice remark, from the back of
his brain.
    “Do you believe in ghosts, Reverend Rook?” she asked, at last.
    “Sure,” the Rev replied, straightening up again. “Why?”
    “And do you believe in God?” As Rook stared: “ Gods ?”
    This drew a frown. “Old heretic deities, the things they
worshipped in Philistine times? Baal and Moloch, and such?”
Songbird nodded once more. “I was taught those were devils, sent by
Satan to fool with unbelievers. Like Solomon with his wives’ idols,
or Ahab and