Corbenic Read Online Free PDF

stickily over the boy’s fingers, down the rough shaft, dripping in dark splashes on the wooden floor.
    Cal felt sick. “This is crazy,” he whispered.
    Behind the boy came two more, each carrying a branched golden candlestick, and the candles that burned in them seemed to have such light that it made Cal bring his hands together and clench them on the table. Beside him, he sensed Bron’s rigid pain.
    The doorway was empty. But something else was coming. Something so inexplicable, so terrible that it made the very air shiver, a sudden breath of icy purity, so that Cal stepped right back without knowing it, shocked into fear. Sweat chilled on his spine, the very darkness in the doorway seeming to crackle and swell as if the room breathed in, all the curtains flapping, the casements gusting open with terrifying cracks. He caught the edge of the table.
    She had times like these. She’d see things, she’d scream, clutch her ears. How many times had he phoned the hospital, got a taxi, got her to Casualty. As if her head was bursting with visions, she’d say. Visions and angels. As if they were all in there with her.
    A girl came in. She was taller than the boys, and her hair was fair and her dress green. She carried a cup. She carried it carefully, as if it was precious, and he could see how ancient it was, how dented and scarred, and that it was gold, and there were jewels in its rim. For a moment he could see, but it shone, it shone so fiercely it almost burned and quivered in her hands, and he wondered how she could bear it, how he could bear to see it. Because it burned him too, in his eyes until he closed them and then like a heat and glow against his body, and yet none of it was real, none of it existed, he had to remember that.
    Bron’s fingers were tight on his arm.
    There was another room. There had been no door before, but there was now, and the boys with the spear and the candlesticks walked in there, and the girl did too, and as she passed she raised her face from the glory of the Grail and gave Cal one look, quick and rapt. And he was seared with the sudden joy of it, the nameless, unbelievable joy, but the door swung shut and the light was gone and the music was back. As if it had never stopped.
    Knives and forks clattered. Glasses tinkled. All the candles glimmered. Cal rubbed his hand weakly down his face. He felt shaky, his whole body was wet with sweat. He collapsed into the chair.
    â€œCal?”
    He turned. Bron was watching him, eyes bright, and behind him the red-bearded man waited, and the osprey stared, hawk-sharp.
    â€œDid you see?”
    â€œSee?”
    â€œYou must ask me about it, Cal.” Bron’s grip was so tight it hurt. “You must ask me. That’s all you need to do. Ask me about what you saw.”
    Cal shook him off, shivering. “Leave me alone. I’ve got to get out.”
    â€œBut you saw! You must have seen.”
    Dully, Cal licked his lips, obstinate. He wasn’t drunk. He wouldn’t be like her. Never. He’d sworn long ago he’d never be like her. “I didn’t see a thing,” he whispered.
    Bron looked as though someone had struck him. For a moment his disappointment was so terrible Cal felt worse, chilled with terror. “Could I have some water?” he croaked. The big man poured it and pushed it over with a look of disgust. The coldness was wonderful in his seared throat. Putting the glass down he breathed out and said clearly and bitterly, “Either you or I are drunk, your majesty.”
    Leo had both his hands on Bron’s shoulders. When the dark man looked up he seemed haunted, more haggard, as if an eternity of pain had fallen on him. There was a grim despair in his face. “I should have known,” he whispered.

Chapter Four
    And near to the gate the vegetation was taller than elsewhere.
    Peredur
    H is head hurt. The dull ache came prodding down through layers and layers of sleep; it