Black Jade

mockery of the Saganom Elu. Most editions of it were bound in leather dyed a dark black, hence its more common name.

'We are traveling light,' I told him, 'and it seemed wise not to burden ourselves with books.'

I glanced at Master Juwain; this was one time where his copy of the Saganom Elu was nowhere to be seen, and I silently gave thanks for that.

'A burden!' Goro cried out. He turned to Vasul and said, 'Do you see? They willfully keep themselves in ignorance. Is that not an Error Mortal?'

'It might be,' Vasul said, 'if they were of Hesperu. But other lands have other ways.'

His words, however, which were meant to placate Goro, seemed only to anger him. Goro's dark face grew darker as he barked out: 'My son, Ugo, was killed last year, in Surrapam, fighting the errants so that our priests might bring the Way of the Dragon to the north. His blood washes clean the ground where he lies. After the campaign is finished, all the errants there who haven't been crucified will turn to the Way. And so it will be, soon, in all lands. And so these pilgrims would do well to learn our ways, since their journey has afforded them so great a chance.'

Now a man whose clay-stained hands proclaimed him as a potter stepped closer, and so did a middling old woman and a much younger one with a baby girl in her arms: a mother, daughter, and granddaughter, or so I guessed. I wanted badly to jump on Altaru's back and gallop out of this trap of a town, but it was too late for that.

'All families,' Goro instructed me, 'must keep at least one copy of the Black Book. If you are pilgrims bound by blood or oaths, you count as a family.'

'Then we should treat them as a family,' Vasul said to him. 'Where is our kindness to these strangers? Where is our hospitality?'

'The best kindness we could offer them is to correct their errors.'

'Then let us help them,' Vasul said to Goro. 'Wait here with them, won't you?'

With that, he disappeared into his shop, and then came out a few moments later bearing a large, thick book. Gold leaf had been worked into the edges of its pages; a large dragon — of a red so dark it gleamed almost black — had been embossed upon the book's leather cover. More leaf, I saw, had been used to render the dragon's eyes a brilliant gold.

'One of my scribes,' Vasul said to us, 'finished lettering this only last week. As you can see, it is beautifully illuminated.'

He opened the book to show us golden characters through which sunlight streamed as through glowing windows. He came to a page worked with the brilliant figure of the angel, Asangal, giving the Lightstone into Morjin's outstretched hands. Another page depicted the crucifixion of Kalkamesh. The scene's vividness nearly made me weep: a great being nailed to stone on the side of a black mountain, as above him a dragon beat the air with his leathery wings and used his talons to tear out Kalkamesh's liver.

'Here,' Vasul said to me, coming to a page near the middle of the book. 'This passage is from the Healings, under Miracles. Read it to us, won't you?'

He gave the book to me, and tapped a gold-ringed finger against the top of the page. The finely-wrought letters inked into the paper burned my eyes like fire. I could not bring myself to give voice to the words; it was like holding in my mouth pure poison.

'Read!' Goro told me. 'It's nearly noon, and I've a barrel to finish.'

More people had now gathered around. I began mumbling out the words of the passage.

'Louder!' Goro barked out. 'I can't hear you!

I drew in a deep breath, and with greater force, if not enthusiasm, I recited:

' ' If a man should lose limb or eye, let him not despair or drink the potions of conjurors or witches. Let him turn the eye of his soul toward the One's light and he who brings it to earth, for the only true restoration lies in the hands of the Maitreya.''

I finished reading, and Goro suddenly shouted at me: 'The only true restoration is in the hands of the Maitreya! Remember this, pilgrim! This Well of Restoration you seek is a figment. And your desire to seek it must be corrected.'

I told Goro that I would surely remember the passage. But this wasn't good enough for him.

'Read it again!' he commanded me.

'What?' I said.

'Read it again, nine times more, and louder.' He turned to look at Master Juwain. 'And the rest of you shall recite it, ten times each!'

'By what authority,' I asked him, 'do you demand this of us?'

By now, Goro had so swollen up with righteous anger and pride that it seemed his head might burst. And so it was Vasul who answered for him, saying. 'It is upon everyone to correct the errors of each other, and especially their own. That is the Way of the Dragon.'

Vasul, and others crowding in close, waited to see what I would do. But Goro lost patience, and called out: 'Read the passage!'

And so I did. Nine more times I read out loud these duplicitous words of Morjin. I gave the book to Master Juwain, and he reluc-tantly recited to Goro and Vasul, and to the crowd, as well. So did Maram, Liljana and Daj; so, in a quavering voice that nearly broke my heart, did Atara. When she failed to pass the book to Estrella, Goro berated her.

'All of you shall recite the verse,' Goro commanded.

If Atara had still possessed eyes, she would have fired off arrows of hate with them. She snapped at Goro: 'But the girl is mute!'

At the sharpness of her voice, Goro's fingers clenched as if he longed to correct her contempt with his fist. But then he asked Atara, 'Can she see still read?'

'No, she never learned the art.'

'Can she still hear?'

Atara looked at Estrella and nodded her head.

'Good,' Goro said. 'Then she will have heard the passage enough that she might recite it within her heart. Ten times.'

He turned his gaze on Estrella, who stood there on smooth cobblestones staring back at him. In the silence that fell over the square, everyone waited as they watched Estrella. She remained almost motionless as the leaves of the nearby almond trees fluttered in the breeze. Whether or not she recited Morjin's words within herself, not even the wind could know.

Finally, Goro grabbed up the book and extended it toward Kane. 'Read!' he told him.

Kane did not move. His eyes looked past the big black book and fixed on Goro's eyes. I thought he might be ready to tear them out of his head.

'Read, now, pilgrim! We haven't got all day!'

I felt Kane's fingers burning to grip the hilt of his sword. I knew that he could whip it out of its sheath and strike off Goro's head before Goro had time to change the expression of his belligerent face.

At last, with a furious motion, Kane took hold of the book. By bad chance, it seemed, it fell open to the illumination of Kalkamesh's crucifixion. Kane stared for a long few moments at the dragon's bloody talon ripping open Kalkamesh's side. I knew he trembled to cut off Goro's life years before its time, and Vasul's life, too — and the lives of a nearby baker and barber and all the other townspeople gathering in the square. The fire In Kane eyes told me that he had returned to his savage self, and I hated myself for liking him better that way. 'So,' Kane growled. 'So.'

His blunt fingers fairly tore through the book's pages. When he came to the passage that we had all read, he snarled out:

''If a man should lose limb or eye, let him not despair or drink the potions of conjurors or witches. Let him turn the eye of his soul toward the One's light and he who brings it to earth, for the only true restoration lies in the hands of the Maitreya.''

'There!' he shouted at Goro.

'Good!' Goro said to him. He shot Kane a dark smile. 'Now complete the passage for us.'

'What!'