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out from this place; for I knew this man, and he is dead."
Dirk turned with him; together, they passed under the archway and into the
spiral.
As they came out into the lower cave, Dirk murmured, "That was not an easy
thing to do."
Gar nodded. "His staff is a thing of awesome strength, Dulain-it would magnify
every power I have -a hundredfold. With it, I would be the mightiest psi in the
galaxy."
"Then why did you put it down?"
"Because it is not mine," Gar said without hesitation. "It is DeCade's; and while
he is dead, it belongs to his people." He lifted his head, gazing thoughtfully at the
pale dawnlight in the cave mouth ahead. "Then, too, I think it would be an
addictive thing. Holding power like that, I would use it and use it again till I could
not bear not to use it. If it cried for blood, it would have it."
They came out at the base of the hill, and Gar threw his shoulders back with a
sigh, looking up at the moon, drifting palely in the sky of false dawn.
Dirk watched him, brooding. "Is that why you broke the staff?"
"No, not quite." Gar frowned. "But like it. DeCade was a great man, but he was
like his staff-he could never stop fighting. Even as it is, I have all his memories,
the print of his personality--and I think I'll always have to be on my guard for the
rest of my days, to be sure that personality doesn't overwhelm me. But with his
staff whole, I wouldn't've had a chance-it pumped power into him; it made him a
superman." He turned his head slowly, looking down at Dirk. "It was a great
temptation to leave his staff whole, Dirk Dulain-- but it would have destroyed
me."
Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his middle finger and thumb
against his temples. "And, oh, I hope to tell you, may I never have to live through
something like that again! It washorrible, at first; another man's mind inside my
own, thought-tendrils reaching out, grappling. We fought on a figurative plain,
beneath a symbolic sky, in the country of the mind; and we came close to killing
each other. But at last we made peace and became friends of a sort; though there
was always the tension, always the wariness-for we both wanted life, in the body.
It was a constant threat-another fight for survival-there, in the midst of my own
mind, my own flesh and body." "But it didn't come," Dirk murmured.
Gar shook his head. "No. We were allies; we worked together for a dream we both
burned for. And now-he is gone, no vital power, no soul left, only a set of
memories. He died of his own accord, almost; when he'd had his revenge, the
power drained out, and he went back where he'd come from-but he couldn't have
lain easy if that staff had remained whole. Of course I laid him to rest-no man
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wishes to be a ghost."
"No," Dirk said slowly, "including me."
"Ah." Gar nodded; that seemed to explain a lot to him.
He lifted an arm, pointing to the top of the hill. "Come, let us climb. I cannot
think of a better place to survey this world, than the top of DeCade's tomb."
They turned their faces up and began to climb. Gar turned to Dirk, his eyes
probing keenly. "She had that deep a hold on you, then?"
"Yes," Dirk said sourly, "and you had that deep a hold on her."
"I? Or DeCade?"
Dirk shrugged. "Either. It didn't really seem to matter. Any way you looked at it, I
came in last." Gar strode upward in silence. Then he said, "That's a pretty weak
reason for leaving a planet." Dirk shrugged irritably. "Her, or the rest of them-it
came out the same. Half-liking is a pretty poor sequel to loyalty."
Gar shook his head. "That still rings hollow."
Dirk stopped, scowling. "What are you getting at? The Wizard? The unseen hand
that's moved me, every step?"
"No, of course not." But Gar was suddenly a little too casual about it.
Dirk frowned, puzzled; then he smiled, amused. "Oh, don't worry, I figured that
one out long ago. You were the source of the rumors, weren't you? You started the
discontent running through the land -the feeling that it was about to happen-and
the word of the Wizard being seen, here and there."
Gar nodded. "Just the usual whispering campaign-and a little projective
telepathy, of course."
Dirk raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you list that among your talents, too?"
"I am nothing if not versatile."
"Yes, very." Dirk frowned. "When Lord Core's men found Madelon and me dead,
and took you away-how'd you manage that, faking our deaths? I don't know of
any psi power than can swing that one."
Gar flashed him a grin and turned away. Dirk waited for the answer.
He was still waiting when they came to the hilltop.
Gar planted his feet firmly and heaved a sigh, looking out over the countryside,
slumbering in the false dawn. "Peaceful, isn't it?"
"Yes," Dirk agreed. "Now."
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r r
"And yourself?" Gar raised an eyebrow.
Dirk looked back at him, his face carefully neutral. Then he nodded. "Not bad,
now that you mention it. Surprisingly."
Gar shrugged. "You've got it mostly threshed out now. She doesn't really mean [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]