Текст книги "The Chosen"

Автор книги: Ricardo Pinto

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Текущая страница: 38 (всего у книги 38 страниц)

'Carnelian.' His name strained from the gloom behind him. He looked wildly at the light shaking out through the moon-eyed door. He peered round into the dark. Something pale rushed out.

'Osid-' he began joyfully but his arm was yanked as he was dragged off into the shadows. A hand clapped across his mouth. He leant back into the warm body. He could feel Osidian's breath on his ear. He pushed back harder.

'Stop it,' was hissed in his ear but followed by a kiss. Carnelian watched as ammonites appeared with a chest hanging in the air between them. He could see their faces, disfigured with numbers. They negotiated several chests until they found a space in which to put their burden down. They filed back into the library. Carnelian turned in Osidian's grip and sank his weight into him. They kissed then moved apart. Osidian offered his hand and Carnelian took it. He let himself be led through a doorway. Deeper and deeper into the darkness they went undl Carnelian could see nothing and was stumbling. Osidian stopped and pulled him close. Carnelian felt Osidian's face with his lips. Osidian pushed him gently away, chuckling. This is neither the time nor the place.'

Carnelian tried again.

'I'm serious,' Osidian said firmly.

Carnelian pulled back.

'Are you sure you still want to do this?'

'More than ever,' said Carnelian, burning with need. 'Will we have to wait until they've cleared the library?'

That'll take days.'

'What can-'

There's another way.' Osidian fumbled their hands together.

'Don't you think it's funny that the Gods-to-be should be creeping around in the blackness?'

'I don't,' Osidian said through a smile. 'Now walk carefully, and by the blood, keep quiet.'

They felt their way through the darkness with their feet until they came through a door into the Windmoat. They walked along it towards the morning sky. The heart-stone screens on their left were dark. No sound came from behind them. The windows in the wall of the forbidden house were blind. They descended into the ravine. In its gullet they prepared themselves with the thick paint as they had done before although this time they helped put it on each other with much biting, mock anger, laughter.

Then it was out into the morning. From the east the crescent shadow of the Sacred Wall matched the curving Ydenrim. Between the two was a gleaming scythe of the Skymere. They turned their faces into the southern wind. Carnelian stared. The sky was brooding black. The Rains could not be more than a few days distant. They looked away, saying nothing, their joy subdued.

The descent was long and hard. There was time for nothing but the next foothold, the next weathered flight of steps. The sun rose higher and higher into the sky and scorched them. The crater was a seductive mirage, with its gleaming arcs of precious blues and greens.

When the sun slid behind the Pillar's gleaming head they were suspended between earth and sky. Above and below them the Pillar narrowed. Carnelian felt that they were flies crawling on the edge of a diamond. The screaming wind soon turned their relief to shivering. They wrapped themselves up as best they could but still they had to cling with numbing fingers to the rock. Down and down they climbed and the earth seemed never any closer. Only the shadow of the Pillar jutting out below and the increasing ache in their muscles told of the passing time.

By late afternoon they were among the rookeries of the sky-saurians. Carnelian had a notion to go and rest in the shrine but Osidian urged him on.

The shadow of the Pillar was already nosing its way across the Skymere when they reached the ground. They took a short rest, some water and a little hri cake, but Osidian drove them on. They scratched through the thorn forest to the wall of the Forbidden Garden. Sitting astride its stones they saw the shadow of the western Sacred Wall was already slicing through the heart of the Yden. The lagoons lay in its night.

They dropped into the garden and made their way as quickly as they could down through its terraces to the outer wall. As Osidian was opening a gate the shadow of the Sacred Wall was already coming up through the trees. In the orchard, twilight pulled over them like a blanket. Shadows grew rosy from the reflected fiery reds of the sky. Night had fallen before they reached the first lagoon.

They waited for the moon, each locked in the prison of his own thoughts. This was not how Carnelian had expected it to be. He looked sidelong at Osidian's face. It was too dark to see its expression. How could Osidian be thinking of anything other than his Apotheosis? He should even then have been at the heart of his household, being carried down in the midst of the pilgrimage of the Great.

Stars were dusting the mirror lagoons. Frogs were rasping. Mosquitoes were sewing the air with needle flight. This was the last night of his freedom. Carnelian was filled with a desperate longing, but Osidian was a tower invulnerable to assault.

'What're you thinking?' Carnelian asked.

The tower moved. 'Of many things.'

'Apotheosis?'

'Not just of that.'

'Would you have preferred to be now in the Labyrinth?'

The tower loomed close. Carnelian felt Osidian's arms encircling him, drawing him close. He rested his head in the angle between Osidian's neck and shoulder. Their clothes were masking the passion in their skins.

T would possess you,' Carnelian whispered.

'You do,' breathed Osidian on his neck.

They tightened the circles of their arms as if they wished to merge their flesh.

'Your bones are my bones,' breathed Carnelian.

'Your skin my skin,' said Osidian.

'My heart is yours.'

'My blood runs in your veins.'

At that moment they felt the moonlight falling round them. Carnelian lifted his head and looked into Osidian's dark eyes and was consumed by a fierce, terrible joy. He kissed Osidian as if he sought to swallow all the breath from his lungs. He disengaged. 'Shall we swim?'

'Like fish,' said Osidian and laughed.

They broke apart, tore their clothes off. Carnelian was free first. He raced off down the moon path towards the water. He could hear Osidian's footfalls hammering after him. Lily pads clustered at the shore like boats. Carnelian did not check his speed. He ran across the pads, felt them buckling, ran faster, lost balance, two more steps and then he was rifling through the air. He saw himself mirrored in the surface, smashed it and went under. The water was as warm as blood.

Carnelian came up first into the wafting warm perfume of the air. He turned to see Osidian rising from the pool like a spirit forming from the foam.

He heard something or sensed some movement. He tried to pierce the shadows under the trees with his eyes. Black shapes, like men. He stiffened. It was like the night they had wounded his father. He had half turned his head to give Osidian warning, when the air was ruffled by footfalls.

'What…?' Osidian said near him.

They crept into the moonlight. Swarthy stunted men, eyes round as if they were seeing demons. They lifted cudgels as they closed their crescent round them.

The Twins,' cried Osidian as he dashed his white body into them.

Carnelian groaned as he watched them blur his brightness with their squat bodies. Their cudgels raised and began to fall like hammers. It was the cries of pain from Osidian that freed Carnelian. He crashed forward using his fists like clubs. Each blow hurt his hands but he would not stop. Their attackers pulled back exposing Osidian. He was on one knee staring at his hand.

Carnelian moved towards him, turning round and round as he went, seeing their attackers closing, their cudgels lifting. He reached out behind him. His fingers found Osidian's shoulder. 'Get up,' he said.

Osidian did not move.

Carnelian whisked round and grabbed him. 'Get up!' he cried, yanking Osidian to his feet. He put his back to Osidian's. He glared at the little men. He felt the stickiness in his hand. He brought it to his mouth, tasted it. 'Blood…' He felt the rage surge in him. Osidian's blood.

After that he could see nothing. He was clawing through their flesh. He was smashing his head into their faces. Their rancid smell was smearing on his skin with their blood. Their grappling-hook hands dug into him.

Blows fell on his back, his arms. They were hanging off him. He swung, dislodging some. He was weakening. They were slowing him with their weight, with pain. A wall crashed into his head and their cries thinned to blackness.

FUNERARY URNS

To achieve Doubling the poison must be administered not later than ten days from conception. The initial dosage should be the size of a pigeon's eye. Thereafter this should be increased daily by an additional dose, this regime to be followed for at least sixteen days. The poison may lead to various levels of morbidity in the mother but rarely to death. One in three offspring will be lost. The level of separation of the product sybling cannot be predicted.

(extract from a beadcord manual of the Domain of Immortality)

A knife was stabbing into Carnelian's head, over and over again. His body was a piece of meat. He tried to move his hand up to his head but it would not budge. His eyelids felt as thick as his tongue as he opened them. He saw a glare that spasmed with each throbbing in his head. He screwed his eyes closed, breathing carefully till the pain lost its ragged edge.

A flapping like birds. He carefully reopened his eyes. Shape-changing light patches seared. He swivelled his head to angle the hammering and his sight into a dark corner. He found he was able to open his eyes wider. The shadows found their hard edges, straightened, became lines and curves.

When he tried to move his body, waves of nausea surged up from his stomach. He tried to pant away the need to vomit. His ears were hearing a linking counterpoint of lifting rising Vulgate in different voices. He turned his head gingerly to look at the light shapes. Bones of light, twisting. Water, undulating morning in its dimples far off, down a tunnel through ribbing. Wooden ribs. A sequence of them seeming to rock the water in their cradle. The ribs held something long and sleek and tooth-yellow, like a huge discarded arm. He focused his eyes on its skin. A curving surface of linked ivory shards. Bones. It was a bone boat leaning towards him, her prow post like a tree over their heads, her bow swelling off in the wooden cradle of ribs.

Men were growling Vulgate. Carnelian recalled the attack. Their blows were still playing his skull like a drum. He walked his eyes back from the water, a rib at a time. He ground his head round carefully as if he were afraid to dislodge the ache balancing on top. He saw Osidian, the marble of his face ruptured red near his eye. His lip as livid and bloated as an earthworm, twitching. Bruises like ink infusing alabaster. The eyes opened and they saw each other. Carnelian saw Osidian rising to the surface, shared his pain, bewilderment, watched the firming brightness of realization in his eye. Osidian opened his mouth as if to speak, but obviously became aware of the men talking behind him and narrowed his eyes as he listened.

'Hey…' he groaned.

Carnelian tensed as he heard the conversation stop.

'Hey, you, come here,' Osidian said in an imperious tone that made Carnelian scrunch up wanting to close Osidian's mouth, that made the pain twist its blade in his head.

'Shut up,' said a voice.

'Come here’ said Osidian, his swollen lips slurring his voice.

Carnelian could hear them getting up. He fought the ropes but they only burned his wrists. The rib he leaned against shuddered under someone's weight, then a foot came down beside him. He looked up the dark leg to the leather skirt. He could not see any more of the man but could certainly smell him. The man crouched. His face was like raw meat. Carnelian found the tiny eyes, the grey stumped teeth. He recoiled from the stench of the man's breath, from the animal intensity of the eyes looking at his unmasked face.

'How dare you look at me?' Osidian cried in outrage.

'How will you stop me looking, Master?' the man said.

His words sprayed saliva onto Carnelian's cheek. The rib shuddered again and as it released another man jumped down. Both men stood back. They were monstrously alike. Carnelian saw that the new one refused to look at him and was trembling.

'Do you know what'll be done to you for walking here, on holy ground, for laying your hands on a Master, for seeing our faces?' Osidian said.

Carnelian could see both men flinch. The second man's shoulders were beginning to hunch.

'You filth came in with the tributaries, didn't you?'

The second man's chin dug deeper into his chest as he nodded.

'You do know that you won't be able to sneak out that way, don't you?'

'Our employer's made arrangements to get us out,' sneered the first man.

'Your employer'll not be able to protect you from my wrath. I'll find you and all your kin. Each death'll entertain me for twenty days.'

'You'll not be finding anyone where you're going,' said the first man.

'And you think your "employer" will let you live after what you've seen, what you've done?'

The second man was trembling so much he was shaking against the first.

'What're you afraid of?'

They're Masters, Rud. We oughtn't ever to have looked at their faces. We oughtn't to have come here… this place isn't meant for us. They have powers… we're-'

'Look at them!' said Rud, stabbing his finger. 'Can't you see they bleed blood, not fire?'

'But look how much damage they did to us. They killed Nar, and Pleyr, and roughed the rest of us up. They're too big to be just men, too beautiful.'

Carnelian could see the fear lurking in Rud's eyes.

'You'll envy your dead friends once I get free,' said Osidian.

Rud bent towards them and whipped a slap across Osidian's face. Carnelian jumped as Osidian's head lashed round. He saw the disbelief in Osidian's face. Neither of them could believe the sacrilege.

'You shut up, OK? Shut your mouth!' spat Rud.

Carnelian could see the second man staring and that his spine had regained some stiffness.

They don't look all that godlike now. He takes a slap like a woman, he does.' Rud pushed out his chest. 'Come to think of it, he looks a bit like a woman. Maybe I should take a knife across his face and then we'd see how beautiful he'd look.' He nodded gluttonously. 'Maybe I'll just cut something off him, a bit of his milky flesh, a finger, an ear, a little memento of our visit to "paradise".' Rud pulled out a flint-bladed knife and took pleasure in showing them its scalloped edge. As he leaned forward, Carnelian tried to shove his body in the way. With a thump, two more feet landed in front of him.

'You know they're not to be touched,' said the newcomer.

'But, boss, we could hurt them where it doesn't show,' said the second man, grinning his stump-rimmed mouth.

The boss turned on him. 'Do you want to die here? Well, do you? Who's going to get us out if we don't keep our end of the bargain?'

'I say we cut them,' said Rud, with a fithy grin.

The boss slammed into Rud, who hit the rib like a sack of sand. He straightened up shakily.

'We were just trying to get them to keep quiet,' said the second man.

'Well gag them then,' said the boss.

Carnelian saw the venomous look that Rud shot Osidian as he moved off.

The sun heated the boathouse like an oven. Through the holes gaping in the hide roof, fire poured down over the earth floor, caught in the rib curves and bleached the ruined bone boat. An edge of heat reached slowly towards their feet. They tried to move out of its way but could not. Carnelian felt it begin to roast his feet. He looked over and saw Osidian's face. The gag gaped his mouth. His eyes were screwed closed. Sweat beading on his face made his birthmark glisten. Carnelian forced himself to look at that battered face, making its silent scream. Osidian had not opened his eyes since Rud had struck him.

The water down there at the boathouse's end was white-hot silver. A breeze belched up a stench of mud that told of the lowering level of the Skymere. But there was another smell. The reek of rotting flesh that he was sure was coming from their reddening feet.

Heavy footfalls woke Carnelian. He groaned, adjusting his painful spine.

'Put it there,' said a voice in Vulgate. By its timbre, it was a voice accustomed to speaking Quya.

A lantern settled brilliant as a star in front of him. One of their captors' shapes moved away from it. Carnelian squinted sight into his eyes and saw the ranga, the jewel-brocaded hem of a Master's cloak. The ranga shoes walked to stand beside the bronze lantern. Carnelian looked up at the huge shrouded figure.

'No doubt my Lords never expected to find themselves in such squalid surroundings?' said two beautiful voices together in Quya. Two white hands, each blood-ringed, opened the shroud to reveal a double mask of gold.

'… an… yus,' blurred Carnelian through his gag. He strained to see Osidian staring out from his bruised, gagged face.

The double mask turned on the boss. 'You were told not to spill blood.' The syblings' voices were deadly flat.

The boss hunched. They fought like demons.'

The double mask lingered a while and the boss seemed to grow smaller. The mask turned back. 'No greeting from you, Celestial?' said one of the syblings. 'Aaah, but I see they have stopped up your divine mouth.' Their hand made a lean, smiling gesture. 'We would remove it ourselves but no doubt you have been fingered by the hired brutes… and they are thoroughly unclean.'

He motioned to the shadow behind him. 'Ungag them.'

The man came, the boss. His thick, grubby fingers worried at the knots and the gag came away from Carnelian's mouth.

The other, the other,' said the syblings, jabbing their finger.

Carnelian watched the boss leaning over Osidian. The man stood up, gave the double mask a fearful look. The syblings made a gesture of dismissal.

The boss jerked a bow. 'Your assurances, Master…?'

'Do not provoke us. Bring in the urns. Take care that neither you nor any of your filthy band look upon our faces.'

The boss hesitated, narrowing his eyes, then ducked a bow and lurched away.

'Repulsive creature.' The Hanuses reached up and carefully, slowly, removed their mask. Freed, their alabaster faces looked around. 'We will have to arrange a fiery accident for this noisome shed.' The living eyes looked down on Osidian and then Carnelian. The blind left face smiled bleakly.

'My Lords are wondering what has brought us all to this less than salubrious spot, eh?' said Right-Hanus. 'Your silence denies nothing. I can see the curiosity in your eyes.' He looked at Osidian. 'Your divine mother sends you greetings, Celestial.'

'You think I did not know she was behind this?' said Osidian.

The Hanuses gave a little bow.

'But this is sacrilege,' cried Carnelian.

'Let us not concern ourselves with niceties of terminology,' said Right-Hanus.

'It is merely political necessity,' said Left-Hanus.

'You have lifted your hand against the Gods,' Osidian said.

The almost-Gods, to be precise, and when Jade Lord Nephron does not appear the burden of the candidature will fall inevitably on his brother.'

The rib rattled as Osidian struggled to free himself. The Hanuses stepped back, left face looking alarmed, the other glancing towards the door. Their hands lifted their mask almost to their faces. As Osidian stopped struggling, oily smiles oozed back over both.

The Empress assured us that her hirelings were dependable,' said Left-Hanus.

'One is gratified to see that this is true,' said Right-Hanus.

They are of the Brotherhood of the Wheel?' asked Carnelian.

The Hanuses' faces looked surprised. 'Why, yes, my Lord,' they replied.

'Why would the Brotherhood risk so much?' asked Osidian. 'If they are discovered, not only they but all their kind will be exterminated even if it became necessary to lay the city waste.'

The price they asked was the City at the Gates,' said Left-Hanus.

'She cannot intend to give it to them.' Osidian was incredulous.

'She would pay any price.'

'But you distract us, Celestial,' said Right-Hanus. 'Now, where was I? Aaah, yes, the Empress bade me say to her son that she bears you no more malice than you do her. She knows that if she allowed your accession you would move against her.'

'She prefers that the son who wears the Masks should be her creature,' said Left-Hanus.

'And what place has she made for you?' asked Carnelian.

The Hanuses both beamed. 'We have been promised power,' they chorused.

'You think you can trust her? She has killed her own daughter and now…'

'Her son?' suggested Left-Hanus.

'It is said that there are carnivorous saurians that when caged will devour even their offspring. Yet these same creatures will allow tiny birds to pick ticks from their hide,' his brother said.

'She will swat you like a gnat.'

'We have taken precautions,' said Left-Hanus.

The very act of making us her instrument has made her vulnerable to us,' said Right-Hanus. 'If news of this crime were ever to reach the Great and the Wise, both powers would rise against her.'

'Against them both not even she could prevail,' said Left-Hanus.

'So now you come to spill our blood yourselves?'

The Hanuses looked shocked. 'Not so, my Lord, not so,' said Right-Hanus.

'We merely came… to gloat,' said Left-Hanus.

They brought their faces very close to Carnelian. 'We have waited long for our revenge,' they said together.

'Revenge? Revenge on us? On me?'

The syblings made vague gestures. The Chosen, the House of the Masks…' said Left-Hanus.

'… even the Empress,' said Right-Hanus.

'Look at us… we are an abomination,' said Left-Hanus.

'You cannot imagine the unending horror of our lives,' said his brother.

'But this was done to you by the Wise.' 'Haaagh! They are machines,' said Left-Hanus.

'Blind instruments wielded by Chosen hands,' said Right-Hanus.

'You too are Chosen. Look, you wear a blood-ring.'

The faces sneered and spoke together. 'We are freaks, merely symbols of the Twin Gods created as a decoration for the court, nothing more.'

'I have always treated you with respect,' said Osidian.

'Aaagh, certainly you have talked to us…' said Left-Hanus.

'… but with respect?' said Right-Hanus.

They shook their head, lips pursed up to their noses. 'Not respect… most certainly not respect.'

'Now, condescension…?' said Left-Hanus.

'But we prattle on. We must have your blood-rings.' The syblings gathered up their cloak and robes and, crouching, tucked them into their lap. Their faces grimaced with the effort, causing the flesh joining them to ruck. 'You are very bloody, my Lords,' said Right-Hanus. They both looked frightened. The barbarians have played with you?'

They did not cut you, remove any flesh?' demanded Left-Hanus.

'No matter. We will just have to have you examined.' They frowned, and came close enough for Carnelian to see the pores in their white skin. He felt them fumbling his fingers. His ring was tugged off.

'Aaah,' sighed the syblings, as they sat back holding the ring.

'My father will punish you,' said Carnelian.

'Even now, He-who-goes-before searches frantically,' said Right-Hanus.

'He will find nothing,' said Left-Hanus. Then it will be he that will be punished.'

Carnelian remembered Molochite's threat and shuddered.

'And now yours, Celestial,' said the syblings as their bulk engulfed Osidian. When they had Osidian's ring, they sat back. They put the rings carefully away. The Empress demands proof.' They were about to heave themselves up.

'One last matter, Celestial,' said Left-Hanus.

The syblings brought their faces close to Osidian, who strained to turn away. Both spat. Right-Hanus watched the spittle running down the side of Osidian's face with a sigh of pleasure that was almost sexual. They stood up.

Osidian's eyes came up dark fire.

'Put away your oh so terrible glare, nephew. Your days of power are over,' sneered Right-Hanus.

'We do not fear you now. Soon you will be dead,' said his brother.

'Nothing will ever be found to put inside a tomb,' said Right-Hanus.

They snapped their fingers.

'It will be as if you had never been at all,' said Left-Hanus.

'Alas, you will be quickly forgotten,' his brother said.

'You would not dare spill his blood,' cried Carnelian. The very earth of the Isle would cry out.'

'It will not be done here. The Empress was most insistent on that.'

'You will both be taken out beyond the Sacred Wall and there, in the polluted outer world, you will die,' said Left-Hanus.

'How can you hope to get us through the Three Gates unseen?' Carnelian asked.

There was a grinding sound behind him. The syblings looked up and covered their faces with the mask. 'Soon my Lord will see.' They stood up and walked out of sight.

Carnelian could hear one of the syblings' voices speaking Vulgate. He heard many feet coming back. He saw the boss, Rud and others of the Brotherhood. They crowded him and lifted him.

'By the horns, they're heavy,' said one.

Carnelian was half lifted, half dragged round the wooden rib he had been leaning against. The Hanuses stood, a shrouded immensity. On either side of the sybiings stood two huge earthenware pots as round as pomegranates, daubed with red ochre, eared with many handles. Both pots were tall enough to come up to the syblings' waist.

'Your palanquins await you, my Lords,' chorused the Hanuses' voices.

'You are going to put us in those?' said Carnelian in horror, staring.

The double mask inclined its rightmost eyeslit to one of the pots. 'I need hardly tell you how difficult it was to procure two funerary urns large enough.'

'Alive?'

'Oh yes, my Lord, very much alive,' said Left-Hanus.

'You cannot hope to gag us so that no sound will be heard,' Carnelian said in quick desperation.

'My Lord should not worry about that. He will be drugged,' said Left-Hanus.

'In his urn, my Lord will dream like a foetus in a womb,' his brother said.

Carnelian was set on the edge of the urn. They leaned him back. The urn's lip bit into his spine and thighs. Supporting his weight, they took his ankles and folded his legs up against his chest so that his chin jammed between his kneecaps. They squeezed him closed then packed him into the urn. Its glazed cavity pressed tight over more and more of his skin. The feeling of being trapped was squeezing a scream out. The cruel satisfaction already in their eyes made him swallow it like a knife.

His buttocks touched the bottom. His spine pressed into the urn's curve. His knees speared into his chest. He could just manage to see over the urn's lip. He strained against the urn but it was as if he had been built into a wall. He took swift shallow little breaths, trying to control the panic.

The Hanuses hovered above him like a thundercloud. The curtains of their cloak parted and their gleaming double mask descended, coming close enough to almost lean its two chins on the rim of the urn. Right-Hanus' whisper came from behind the gold. The Empress bade us tell you that even if you had not been involved in the destruction of the Lord Nephron, she would still have found a way to encompass your ruin.'

This she has done for your mother's sake,' whispered Left-Hanus.

The flame of your life was lit from hers before you blew it out. The loss of freedom, the colours of this world, were as nothing to losing her sister.'

As the mask began to rise like a double sun, Carnelian found enough breath to say, 'How…?'

The mask paused in its ascent. Its two eyeslits turned to look down at him. 'How…?' said the gold. 'How were you taken?'

Carnelian closed his eyes and opened them again instead of a nod.

'It was you yourself that gave us victory. Once Imago brought you to us…' The syblings made a grabbing gesture, the sign for capture.

'Jaspar?' Carnelian gasped, and dizzied, struggling to suck in breath.

'Imago Jaspar, yes, it was he. He told the Empress that you might bear watching, that you were the Lord Suth's fatal weakness. We saw you in the library, we saw you in the Yden.'

The syblings' hands made an obscene gesture.

'We saw everything,' said Left-Hanus.

'It was the most inconceivable folly that you should both come down here again, but she had hoped for that and you did not disappoint her.' The mask began pulling away. 'Pleasant dreams, my Lord.'

Tomorrow you die,' his brother said.

The syblings receded, their hands remaining behind only long enough to make a summoning.

One of the Brotherhood appeared. He brought a cane over the rim, a spear questing for Carnelian's face. Carnelian tried to move his head but his knees held it like a clamp. The cane impaled his lips. He tasted blood resisting it. The man's palm struck the other end. It tore through his lip, clunked against his teeth and then twisted into his tongue. Blood welled its metal taste. The cane was a nail through his face. He vibrated with terror as the man put his mouth to the other end of it. He watched the cheeks inflate. The man spat out and Carnelian choked and gagged as something like a fruit stone punched into his throat. He tried to vomit it out but the cane was in the way. It melted down into him. The cane rasping out of his mouth allowed him to rack out some coughs.

He gulped, trying to bail the blood from his mouth with his tongue. His hands flailed for the urn's lip, as he tried to drag himself out of its maw. Voices were barking remotely. The light was as sharp as spears. His head was a stone sinking up to the ears between his knees. His hands folded and tucked into the urn. His body was a deadman's. He felt the darkness coming. A night sky pressing down upon his head and then a grinding that locked him into a world crammed full with his dead flesh in which the only sound was breathing.