Secret Sacrament Read Online Free PDF Page B

and sat in the sun on the window seat. He reached up and removed something he wore on a leather thong about his neck. It was the Shinali amulet.
    He sat and looked at it, his body tense, his hand shaking. He still suffered guilt for not helping the Shinali woman that awful night; yet in the tranquil beauty of the bone carving that had been hers, and in the Shinali dreams that haunted him, he found a kind of forgiveness, a peace. Sunlight slanted across his palm, turning the alien bone to gold. It shone against his skin, and he could have sworn the light came from within the bone, and it was warm, warmer than the sun could make it in these moments. He closed his fingers about the carving and leaned back, his eyes shut, conscious of the sun soaking deeply into him. For a few glorious moments he forgot the discord downstairs, forgot everything but the warmth and the quiet and the indescribable calm that lay within his hand. It was a peace beyond his understanding, beyond suffering and regret and guilt; an inexplicable gift reconciling him with a woman, a peoplehe did not know; a gift he embraced with all his soul, without knowing why.
    Images, sensations floated like half-forgotten memories in his mind: a great plain, dazzling under the sun; the scent of summer grass, heady and sweet; a sense of lying in it, his face against the sun-beaten earth, the heat soaking into his body. Wood smoke drifting across the ground, and the bleating of sheep. The inside of a house, the roof thatched with grass, and smoke rising through a central hole. And peace, peace so awesome and profound it almost had the power to wipe away his pain.
    He felt as if he were outside time, lost elsewhere in a world between reality and dream where strange memories drifted, became briefly his, and vanished again. It frightened him, yet at the same time drew him, gave him joy, made him complete. Dozing, he dreamed of a dim Navoran house; of long passages with dark, locked doors. The passages became a great maze, bewildering and frightening. Desperate, lost, he searched for a door that would open. But they all remained closed. From behind some came sounds: human voices, sails snapping in the wind, and the thunder of the sea. Despairing, he ran on. At last he came to a golden door. As he pushed it open, light flooded over him. Suspended in the brightnesswere things he loved: books on anatomy, the microscope his father had brought back from a far land, the faded charts illustrating the human heart and organs, and healing plants. He saw hands moving over human skin, the movements quick and sure. The fingers held a needle, were sewing up a wound. His hands? The images blurred, changed. Hands binding cloth about a wounded arm. The pungent odor of ointments, the cloth stained with the juice of leaves and roots. He had a feeling he knew what they were, knew exactly what was being done. Wood smoke again, and a knife, its blade shimmering with heat, held above a deep cut. Blood everywhere. The blade plunged deep, the smell of human flesh searing—
    With a jolt, he awoke. There were footsteps on the stairs, on the carpeted floor outside. His door burst open, and Myron came in.
    â€œMother wants you,” said Myron.
    Gabriel blinked at him. “What?”
    â€œMother wants you. She’s been arguing with Uncle Egan. I didn’t know she had so much spit and fire in her. All the guests have left, except for our uncles. Mother thought you’d gone with us. Uncle Egan’s been waiting for us to get back, so he can see you.”
    Gabriel glanced at the window and saw that it was sunset. He stared at Myron and noticed thathis brother’s curls, long and red-gold like his own, were damp, and that he had grass stains on his white sleeves. “Where have you been?” he asked.
    â€œSwimming in the river, with our cousins. I came to ask you if you’d go with us, but you were asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you. Are you all right?