His words were drowned by the chattering of the women.

“Quiet!” Orchid had risen. “Shut up, you sluts!”

“Let me describe,” Silk began again, “what has happened here and what we will be trying to accomplish. The entire whorl was originally under the protection of Great Pas, the Father of the Gods. Otherwise it could never have existed.”

He paused, studying the faces of the twenty-odd young women before him intently, and feeling rather as if he were addressing Maytera Mint’s class in the palaestra. “Great Pas planned every part of it, and it was constructed by his slaves under his direction. In that way were the courses of all our rivers charted, and Lake Limna itself dug deep. In that way were the oldest trees planted, and the manteions through which we are to know him built. You are sitting, of course, in one such manteion. When the whorl was complete, Pas blessed it.”

Silk paused again, counting silently to three, as he so often had at the ambion, while he searched the faces of his audience for one that had come to resemble the mad girl’s, however subtly. “Even if you’re inclined to dispute what I’ve said, I require that you accept it for the present, for the sake of this exorcism. Is there anyone here who cannot accept it? If so, please stand.” He stared hard at Blood, but Blood did not rise.

“Very well,” Silk continued. “Please understand that it was not merely the whorl as a whole that received Pas’s blessing and with it his protection. Each individual part received it as well, and most have it still.

“At times, however, and for good reasons, Pas withdraws his protection from certain parts of this whorl he created. It may be a tree, a field, an animal, a person, or even an entire city. In this instance, it is surely a building—the one we are in now, the one that has since become a part of this house, so that Pas’s protection has departed from the entire house.”

He let that sink in while his eyes roved from face to face. All of Orchid’s women were relatively young, and one or two were strikingly beautiful; many if not most were more than ordinarily good-looking. None resembled Mucor in the least.

“What, you may ask, does that mean? Does it mean that the tree dies or the city burns? No, it does not. Suppose that one of you owned a cat, one that bit and scratched you until at last, in disgust, you thrust your cat out into the street and shut your door. That cat, which once was yours, would not die—or at least, it would not die immediately. But when dogs attacked it, there would be no one to defend it, and any passerby who wished to stone it or lay claim to it could do so with impunity.

“So it is with those of us from whom Pas’s blessing has been taken. Some of you, I know, have suffered possession here, and in a few moments I am going to ask one of you who has been possessed to describe it.”

A small dark woman at one end of the first row grinned, and though little in her face had changed, it seemed to Silk that he could see the skull that underlay it. He relaxed, and realized that his palms were running with sweat, that the carved handle of Blood’s walking stick was slippery with it, his forehead beaded with perspiration that threatened to run into his eyes. He wiped it away with the sleeve of his robe.

“This object behind me was once a Sacred Window—I doubt that there is anyone present who is so ignorant that she does not know that. Through the Window that this once was, Lord Pas spoke to mankind. So it is with the gods, as every one of you must know—they speak to us by means of the Windows that Great Pas built for them and us. They have other ways as well, of course, of which augury is but one. That doesn’t alter the fact that the Windows are the primary means. Is it any wonder, then, that when we permitted this one to fall into disrepair, Pas withdrew his blessing? I say we, because I include myself; we, every man and every woman in Viron, let this devilish thing happen.

“In preparation for this exorcism, I did everything that I could to repair your Window. I cleaned and tightened its connections, spliced and reconnected its broken cables, and attempted certain other more difficult repairs. As you see, I failed. Your Window remains lightless and lifeless. It remains closed to Pas, and we can only hope that he will take the will for the deed and restore his blessing to this house, as we pray.”

Several of the young women traced the sign of addition in the air.

Silk nodded approvingly, then looked straight at the dark woman. “Now I am going to speak directly to the devil who has come among us, for I know that it is here, and that it hears me.

“That very great god the Outsider has placed you in my power. You, also, have a window, as we both know. I can close it, and lock it against you, if I choose. Depart from this house forever, or I will so choose.” Silk struck the stage with Blood’s stick. “Be gone!”

The young women started and gasped, and the dark one’s grin faded. It was (Silk told himself) as though she’d had a fever; the fever was draining away as he watched, and her delirium with it.

“Now I have spoken enough for the present. Orchid, I asked Chenille a while ago whether you’d been possessed, and she said you hadn’t. Is that correct?”

Orchid nodded.

“Stand up, please, and speak loudly enough for all of us to hear you.”

Orchid rose and cleared her throat. “No, Patera. It’s never happened to me. And I don’t want it to.”

Several of the young women tittered.

“It will never happen to any of you again. I believe that I can promise you that, and I do. Orchid, you know to whom it has already happened. Who are they?”

“Violet and Crassula.”

Silk gestured with the walking stick. “Will they stand up, please?”

Reluctantly, they did so, Violet taller than most, with sleek black hair and flashing eyes; Crassula thin and almost plain.

Silk said, “This isn’t all. I know that there’s one more at least. If you’ve been possessed, please stand up, even if Orchid did not name you.”

Blood was smiling in the back row; he nudged Musk, who smiled in return as he cleaned his nails with a long- bladed knife. The women stared at one another; a few whispered. Slowly, the small, dark woman rose.

“Thank you, my daughter,” Silk said. “Yes, you’re the one. Has the devil gone now?”

Вы читаете Nightside the Long Sun
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