Cynthia Vespia [Demon Hunter 01] The Chosen One (pdf)
Ardath Mayhar The Crystal Skull (pdf)
Dali Salvador Dziennik Geniusza (etc.)
Anonim OpowieśÂć pielgrzyma
Kraszewski JI 11 Pogrobek
Rice Anne Spiaca Krolewna 1, Przebudzenie Spiacej Krolewny
Feehan Christine Karpaty 03 Dark Gold
Debra Webb The Doctor Wore Boots
Kaballa_Denudata
Anderson Poul Time Patrol Straśźnicy czasu
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
sleep when the sun went down entirely.
Do-na-ti felt strangely light, not quite weak but not entirely strong and fit. He took to the first good-sized
tree he found, and though it was fairly low, it took him above the reach of a bear's claws or a direwolf's
leap. He tied the meat to the scaly trunk above him and again wrapped himself about the bole to sleep.
In the night he heard growls and snarls beneath his perch.
Wolves? Perhaps, or a wolverine. The tree shook from time to time as whatever it was tried to climb to
this tempting prey, but Do-na-ti didn't really worry. More and more, he believed that the Old Spirit Ones
were guiding him and taking care that the worst did not quite happen along the way.
He woke stiff and dizzy, barely able to unbend his legs from their cramped position around the tree trunk.
He retrieved his bundle with difficulty and dropped to the ground, unable to manage the branches
between.
Now he did feel weak, but he chewed the meat of the tusker, finding strength in the stringy stuff, and it
allowed him to begin walking straight toward his goal.
The People shared an inner compass that guided them over the long swells, the deep grasses, the thickets
and rivers and canyons of their world. Now that he was going home, he did it with the sureness of a swan
flying south for the winter or a swallow going north with the spring.
He did not need to think, for his heart told him how to set his feet and where to aim for on the horizon.
Now Do-na-ti knew, in his occasional fits of awareness, that he must not stop again. He would not be
able to start when morning came. He must go until he died or came home again, and his legs worked
automatically as his spirit drifted away into some time and place of its own choosing.
His brother Ka-shi, running his newly set traps for the first time that season, was, of course, the one to
find him. Ka-shi, the sharp-eyed, Ka-shi the ever-curious, appeared before him like a ghost or a dream.
"Do-na-ti!" The voice was Ka-shi's. Do-na-ti's spirit swept like a vulture overhead before deciding to
descend again into his body.
He found to his surprise that his eyes were closed. Now he pried them open, the lids feeling gummy and
difficult, and stared into his brother's face.
Instead of flashing his usual grin of joy, Ka-shi looked very serious. That alone brought his brother back
to full awareness.
"I& have slain& the Great Tusked One. But it& was not& for vengeance. Take me& to E-lo-ni& my
brother." Then Do-na-ti felt the darkness closing in from all sides, and he seemed to fall asleep standing
up.
He was warm, and his belly felt full. Feeling with both hands, Do-na-ti found that he lay on a soft fur
instead of the worn and gritty robe. Quiet sounds came to his ears, and he listened for a while before
venturing to open his eyes.
A gurgle that was Gift, he was certain. A laugh. E-lo-ni, to be certain.
A voice that belonged to Holasheeta, her words strangely accented, said, "He will wake, now. We give
him meat, for the broth he drink in sleep will not be enough."
Do-na-ti opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his wife. "Pouch," he said. He took a long
breath. "I have brought& " He pushed himself up to sit, knowing that he was well, if somewhat weak. It
had been weariness that had made him sleep for so long.
"I have brought a part of the tusk of the Great One I slew. There is no more bitterness in my heart,
E-lo-ni. I lost my mother to the tuskers, and it poisoned my spirit, as losing our first son poisoned yours."
He paused to think carefully about his next words. "Holasheeta and Gift removed the poison from your
heart, leaving you healed. The lion and the Great Tusked One have healed me of the poison that sickened
me, as well."
She smiled, but she said nothing. Instead she handed him their son, who crowed joyfully at seeing his
father again and wrapped his arms about Do-na-ti's neck.
Holasheeta patted his shoulder wordlessly, and he knew that she, too, was glad to see the black spot in
his heart pale and heal.
"I will tell you, tomorrow, of my dream," the old woman told him.
Even as he rose to go and visit the Elders, he wondered what she might mean. He sat in the circle of wise
ones and told his tale, hearing their murmurs of wonder, and still he thought of the ancient woman's
words.
What would she tell him that he had not learned on his terrible journeys, from his great and perilous
enemies and the beasts that had taught him pity and gratitude?
He had thought that nothing could surprise him now, after the spirits had led him so far. He found that he
had been wrong.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Holasheeta had both hoped for and dreaded this time. She had watched Do-na-ti leave the village with
something of the same feeling of loss she had known when her children were slain. It seemed unlikely, at
best, that he would survive to return to his people, and the thought saddened her.
Now that he had returned, changed and matured by his confrontation with the injured Great One, she [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
