Delerium's Mistress: Tales of the Flat Earth Book 4 Read Online Free PDF

down in
a curdle of fire, the road, the house, the waiting figures, all were dyed red,
and the trees all black with their tops seeming to burn. Suddenly something
moved out from the blackness into the redness. There on the road, walking
toward them, was a fifth figure, that of a young man. Oloru.
    The household
flew toward him, laughing and crying at once. And he too began to run toward
them, his arms outstretched.
    Then, there
seemed to come a curious check. The widow and her daughters faltered and
stopped still; the servant drew up with a muttered oath. For himself, Oloru
also halted. He lowered his eyes and next his head with a modest shyness.
    The mother stared
at him. What was it? Was this her son?—yes, yes, who else but he? Her own Oloru
that she had thought lost to her. Although—She looked and looked, and her heart
beat loudly enough to deafen her and to muddy her eyes, so in the end she
thought it was only that. Then she ran forward again and embraced him and he in
turn embraced her, and said, “Mother, pardon me for alarming you so. I mistook
my way. But as you see, I regained a path and have come back to you.” And while
he spoke his bright hair brushed her cheek and it seemed to her she knew him,
of course she did, he was her son.
    Yet to the
sisters also, and to the servant, there had at first seemed something not
right, something bizarre. Later, the elder girl had a dream, and in the dream
the left side of her brother’s face, as he returned out of the forest, was
covered by a half-mask of enamel, and when he drew it off, his own face under
it had changed to that of a decaying and horrific male devil. The younger
sister also had a dream in which the eyes of her brother had become like the
sunset, black and red, and she woke up shrieking. But these dreams were soon
forgotten, for there was nothing amiss with Oloru, it was only their troubled
fancy. He was as he had always been, golden and handsome, and full of jokes and
poetic reveries.
    It seemed to them
they loved him more than ever in that month, after thinking they had lost him.
And then he left them for the city and the magician-lords, and was lost to them
in truth.
    Presently it was the
mother’s turn for nightmares, and often she would rise and pace about, and if
her daughters heard her they would come in to comfort her. And she would say,
“He is not bad.” She would say, “It is a weakness.” And she would say, “It is
the forest’s fault. The forest is to blame.”
    Now the elder daughter rose and said, “I will light
another candle; this one is almost out. Let us be as cheerful as we can. Who
knows, he may tire of that other life.” The mother sighed deeply.
    Oloru’s elder
sister went to fetch a second candle. As she did so she passed the window, and
happening to look out she gave a sharp cry.
    “What is it?” exclaimed the mother.
    “There—by the well—a great pale animal with ghastly
eyes—”
    The mother
hastened to look. Huddled in the window, the two women stared down at the
courtyard. The gate was locked at night, and surely nothing could get in.
Nevertheless, there beyond the stone curb of the well, something moved.
    “Even by starshine I saw it,” said the girl. “As if it
glowed of itself.”
    “Lift up the candle,” said the mother. “Let us see
this thing and be sure.”
    So the feeble
candle was lifted, and a little more light fell into the yard. Around the well
at once and out of the shadow of a tree which grew there something swiftly
came, and the girl parted her lips to scream.
    But, “Oh, the blessed gods,” the widow said. “What
were you thinking of? It is your brother.”
    And there under
their window stood Oloru, looking himself like a prince, his eyes fixed on
them, more beautiful than all the jewels with which he was dressed.
    Soon the whole
house was roused and down in the antique pillared hall with Oloru. It was a sad
place, this hall, for there were not enough servants now to keep it as it
should