He sacrefised himseld for her
Raphael snorts. “You’ll send a sea serpent after her as soon as you have
your brother back.”
“I won’t. You can keep that sword to my brother’s thick neck until this
young telepath is well on her way.”
“No, you can’t,” I cry. “She’s lying. She just wants you alive. She wants
to torture you so they can learn all you know. We can’t be taken alive.”
Raphael clenches his jaw. “Why do you even want me?” he asks.
Maertisa shrugs. “I could not care less about you. But Auberon’s
psychics have been shrieking about the one person who might be able to
stop him—the Guardian of the Lake. They say that’s you. And Auberon
wants a chat, to figure out how one man could thwart all his plans.”
I gasp. The Lady of the Lake. That’s not Raphael. That’s me. Auberon’s
psychics must have homed in on the general vicinity, but they got the wrong
person.
“It’s me Auberon wants,” I blurt. “Tana told me. I’m the Lady of the
Lake. The Guardian of the Lake. She’s been telling me this for months. You
can’t let them take you. Listen, take Vidal on board the boat. Maertisa won’t
send a sea serpent after you if you take her brother hostage. You can get
away—”
Raphael holds up one finger. “How do I know you’re not lying?” he
asks Maertisa.
She sighs. “Ask your telepathic friend. I’ll allow her a peek. She’ll tell
you that I speak the truth.”
Raphael looks at me. “Do it.”
I nod, but not because I intend to play her little game. Once I’m in her
mind again, I’ll make her let me go.
I connect with her again, using my power, and instantly see that she’s
being honest. She will let me go and allow Raphael to hold her brother
hostage until I sail away. It’s a risk. She knows it’s a risk, but she suspects
Raphael wouldn’t kill her brother until I’m out of the sea serpent’s range.
And by then, she reasons, there’ll
Together till the end
Everyone quiets. Watching.
“They’re right, Auren,” Wick tells her. “You made Carrick flee. You
healed Annwyn. You saved countless lives. You were reborn. Our brokenwinged bird flew, rising like the dawn.”
Auren sucks in a breath.
Then he lowers on one knee.
“We bow,” he says, face intent on her. “We bow to the new Queen of
Annwyn. The last-birthed Turley heir.”
Shock courses through her, while excitement travels through the
onlookers.
“We bow to Queen Auren Turley!”
“We bow to our Lyäri!”
“The golden one rules!”
“The golden one rules!”
Auren blinks at them all, and I know just what she’s thinking. Can
see every thought as it plays over her features.
She swallows hard at the chanting and then looks back to Wick.
“Please stand up.”
He does, and then everyone quiets again, waiting to see what she’ll
say. She shakes her head as she looks around at everyone. “I’m honored that
you would call me your queen, but I do not want to rule.”
It takes a moment for her words to land, but once they do, everyone
goes still. Eyes widen in disbelief, and some expressions twist up in
confusion or dispute.
“I was kidnapped from Annwyn as a little girl,” she tells them,
looking out at the small crowd. “I was trapped and used and manipulated.
For years—for decades—my life was never my own.” Her eyes flick over
to me for a second as a small smile tips her lips. “That changed once I met
my pair, but we’ve had to face constant threats, danger, and obstacles. And
now…for once, all of that is done.”
I see the empathy start to spread, see understanding lighting the eyes
Reklam
She is stronger than the dark
“Yes,” she repeats. “Never fear. I am very good at what I do. I will
get you there.”
She scoots her stool even closer and lifts her hands. I tense. “No,
please—”
Ignoring me, her palms clasp over my ears, making me shudder,
while something inside of me shudders too. My back stiffens, muscles
locked up. Nearly paralyzed.
“Repeat after me.”
My eyes get caught in the net of her gazing stripes.
“I was a traitor.”
My lips follow hers.
The digging goes deeper, and in those holes, I see myself. See
myself falling at the king’s feet, begging for mercy, telling him I was wrong
as lightning streaked across the lavender sky.
No…not lightning. It was a crack. In a ceiling. In a wall. A house
breaking…
There was thunder, but it ripped out like a scream.
I close my eyes, feeling something squirming within the dark,
emptied depths of my mind, trying to shove up through the hollows.
“Focus,” Una snaps.
Her voice pulls me in, while something else oozes out.
“Repeat after me,” she commands again, her voice droning.
My mind flashes, the squirming stops, and I see myself bowing for
the king. The memory shoves in, presses down, trying to fit into the gaps.
“I was a traitor.”
My voice melts with hers, eyes opening.
“I turned myself in.”
Her fingernails dig deeper against the sides of my head.
“King Carrick is merciful. He will let me live if I atone.”
My lips lash out every word. Monotone. Filling up every available
Song of Myself (I)
1
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
2
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
Rüyalar
Büsbütün arzu doyumu ve telafi olan rüyalar da vardır. Açsanız ya da oruç tutuyorsanız, rüyanızda güzel yemekler
görürsünüz; çok sıcaklamışsanız, kar görebilirsiniz,. Fazla yemek tüketmiş ve kalp çarpıntısı geçiren insanlar koştura-
rak bir dağa tırmandıklarını ya da tüy gibi hafif olduklarını ve herkesi şaşkınlığa düşürüp gökyüzüne doğru uçtuklarını
görürler. Fakat, bu rüyalar sıklaşırsa, genellikle kalp sorunlarına bir işarettir bu. Uzun süre yatakta kalmış insanlar, sık
sık, dans ettiklerini ya da zıpladıklarını veya da uzun yürüyüşlere çıktıklarıı görürler. Savaș sırasında, siperlerdeki askerler, sık sık, kasaba sokaklarında sakin bir pazar sabah, görmüşlerdir, vb. Fakat eğer bu rüyalar durursa ve insanlar artık el bombaları görmeye başlarsa, o zaman kalıcı bir "shell shock"u önlemek için onları evlerine gönderme vakti gelmiş demekti; bilinçdışı, artık, bu izlenimleri rüyalardan soyutlamayı bașaramıyordur. Büyülü bir halı gibi, bilinçdışı, bizi olmak istediğimiz yerlere götürür.
Lenore Dove
“Oh, Lenore Dove. Oh, my love,” I say.
“You came back,” she says, tears streaming, but happy tears. “You
came back to me. In this world!”
“And you managed not to get hung!” I crow back.
We hold each other so tight it’s like we’re one person. Which we are,
for real.
Her hands run over my face. “Are you okay? Are you really all right?’
“As right as rain,” I promise her. I don’t care, I can’t leave her. She’ll
want to run away with me, and I’ll let her. We’ll figure out a way to live.
Because I don’t think either of us can live without the other.
We sink into the Meadow grass, hands clasped. She reaches for the
bag of gumdrops that she dropped in our reunion. “Thanks for the candy.
Gosh, look how hard I’m shaking!”
“Here,” I say, taking the bag, not that I’m any steadier. I pluck a sweet
from the bag and pop it in her mouth.
She laughs. “Now you’re home, I guess I can eat the others.”
“What others?” I feed her another gumdrop.
“The ones Sid brought me. I put them under my pillow.”
“But . . .” I look down at the bag. It’s a normal bag, with the Donners’
label. Then I notice the gumdrops. Not a variety of colors. Not a rainbow.
They’re all a deep bloodred. I remember Snow’s rose, his final words to me,
and the pieces fall into place.
“Spit it out!” I order her, cupping my hand before her mouth. “Spit it
out now!”
Her face registers shock as she spits a half-chewed gumdrop into my
palm. “What? It’s fine.”
“Where’s the other? Where’s the first one?” I give her a shake.
“I swallowed it, I guess. Why?”
“Throw it up! Get it out of your stomach!”
She’s panicking now. “What’s going on, Haymitch?”
Reklam
Reklam