The Best of Lucius Shepard Read Online Free PDF Page A

seemed as negative and
inexhaustible as the petrified man’s eyes.
     
     
     
    Someone had
propped his head on their lap and was bathing his brow with a damp cloth. He
assumed it was Lise, but when he asked what had happened, it was Jarcke who
answered, saying, “Had to kill him.” His head throbbed, his leg throbbed even
worse, and his eyes would not focus. The peels of dead skin hanging overhead
appeared to be writhing. He realized they were out near the edge of the wing.
     
    “Where’s
Lise?”
     
    “Don’t
worry,” said Jarcke. “You’ll see her again.” She made it sound like an
indictment.
     
    “Where is
she?”
     
    “Sent her
back to Hangtown. Won’t do you two bein’ seen hand in hand the same day
Pardiel’s missin’.”
     
    “She
wouldn’t have left…” He blinked, trying to see her face; the lines around her
mouth were etched deep and reminded him of the patterns of lichen on the
dragon’s scale. “What did you do?”
     
    “Convinced
her it was best,” said Jarcke. “Don’ you know she’s just foolin’ with you?”
     
    “I’ve got to
talk with her.” He was full of remorse, and it was unthinkable that Lise should
be bearing her grief alone; but when he struggled to rise, pain lanced through
his leg.
     
    “You
wouldn’t get 10 feet,” she said. “Soon as your head’s clear, I’ll help you with
the stairs.”
     
    He closed
his eyes, resolving to find Lise the instant he got back to Hangtown; together
they would decide what to do. The scale beneath him was cool, and that coolness
was transmitted to his skin, his flesh, as if he were merging with it, becoming
one of its ridges.
     
    “What was
the wizard’s name?” he asked after a while, recalling the petrified man, the
ring and its incised letter. “The one who tried to kill Griaule…”
     
    “Don’t know
as I ever heard it,” said Jarcke. “But I reckon it’s him back there.”
     
    “You saw
him?”
     
    “I was
chasin’ a scale hunter once what stole some rope, and I found him instead.
Pretty miserable sort, whoever he is.”
     
    Her fingers
trailed over his shoulder - a gentle, treasuring touch. He did not understand
what it signalled, being too concerned with Lise, with the terrifying potentials
of all that had happened; but years later, after things had passed beyond
remedy, he cursed himself for not having understood.
     
    At length
Jarcke helped him to his feet, and they climbed up to Hangtown, to bitter
realizations and regrets, leaving Pardiel to the birds or the weather or worse.
     
    It seems it
is considered irreligious for a woman in love to hesitate or examine the
situation, to do anything other than blindly follow the impulse of her
emotions. I felt the brunt of such an attitude - people judged it my fault for
not having acted quickly and decisively one way or another. Perhaps I was
overcautious. I do not claim to be free of blame, only innocent of sacrilege. I
believe I might have eventually left Pardiel - there was not enough in the relationship
to sustain happiness for either of us. But I had good reason for cautious
examination. My husband was not an evil man, and there were matters of loyalty
between us.
     
    I could not
face Meric after Pardiel’s death, and I moved to another part of the valley. He
tried to see me on many occasions, but I always refused. Though I was greatly
tempted, my guilt was greater. Four years later, after Jarcke died — crushed by
a runaway wagon - one of her associates wrote and told me Jarcke had been in
love with Meric, that it had been she who had informed Pardiel of the affair,
and that she may well have staged the murder. The letter acted somewhat to
expiate my guilt, and I weighed the possibility of seeing Meric again. But too
much time had passed, and we had both assumed other lives. I decided against
it. Six years later, when Griaule’s influence had weakened sufficiently to
allow emigration, I moved to Port Chantay. I did not hear from Meric for