JК
The Harlequin :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 322 из 330The ones with Asher, standing guard over Columbine and Giovanni, held their ground, but no one was happy.
Pantalone himself screamed, like a girl. It made it harder for the guards to wrestle him into submission. Oh, well.
The figure spoke, and the smell of jasmine and rain was in her voice, or on the wind, or the wind was her voice. I wasn't sure which. «Did you think my laws were superstitions, Jean-Claude? You were supposed to kill her when you knew what she was. Now it is too late.»
«Too late for what?» he said, and he wrapped his arm around me, drew me in against his body, and we both looked up as my nightmare damn near materialized in front of us.
«She's a necromancer, Jean-Claude, she controls the dead, all the dead. Don't you understand yet? Some of the Harlequin think I woke because I want to steal her body, ride her as the Traveller rides other vampires. I had that gift once, to travel from body to body, but that is not why I woke.»
«Why did you wake?» he whispered.
«She attracts the dead, Jean-Claude, all the dead. She called me from my sleep. Her power called to me like the first ray of sunlight after a thousand years of night. Her warmth and life called to my death. Even I cannot resist her. Do you understand now?»
«You are so not under my power,» I said.
She gave a low, dry chuckle. «Legend says that necromancers can control the dead, and that is true, but what legend does not say is that the dead give necromancers no peace. We pester the poor things, because they draw us like moths to the flame, except with vampires and necromancers it is a question who is flame and who is moth. Beware, Jean-Claude, that she does not burn you up. Beware, necromancer, that the vampires do not put you in your grave.»
«Your law,» Pantalone yelled, «your law says she must be put to death.»
The dark figure turned toward the struggling pile of people. «Do not dare speak to me of my laws, Pantalone. I made you. I gave you a piece of myself, that is what made you one of the Harlequin. I have been listening to vampires that dwell closer to my physical form. You have been assassinating vampires for council members. You are neutral. You take no sides. That is what makes the Harlequin!» Her voice rose as she spoke until the wind held not just rain but the promise of storm. «I will take back what I gave you. What you used to make these pale imitations of my Columbine and her Giovanni. These are not my Harlequin.»
«Columbine died. I had to make a replacement, and you were not here to guide me.
Pantalone himself screamed, like a girl. It made it harder for the guards to wrestle him into submission. Oh, well.
The figure spoke, and the smell of jasmine and rain was in her voice, or on the wind, or the wind was her voice. I wasn't sure which. «Did you think my laws were superstitions, Jean-Claude? You were supposed to kill her when you knew what she was. Now it is too late.»
«Too late for what?» he said, and he wrapped his arm around me, drew me in against his body, and we both looked up as my nightmare damn near materialized in front of us.
«She's a necromancer, Jean-Claude, she controls the dead, all the dead. Don't you understand yet? Some of the Harlequin think I woke because I want to steal her body, ride her as the Traveller rides other vampires. I had that gift once, to travel from body to body, but that is not why I woke.»
«Why did you wake?» he whispered.
«She attracts the dead, Jean-Claude, all the dead. She called me from my sleep. Her power called to me like the first ray of sunlight after a thousand years of night. Her warmth and life called to my death. Even I cannot resist her. Do you understand now?»
«You are so not under my power,» I said.
She gave a low, dry chuckle. «Legend says that necromancers can control the dead, and that is true, but what legend does not say is that the dead give necromancers no peace. We pester the poor things, because they draw us like moths to the flame, except with vampires and necromancers it is a question who is flame and who is moth. Beware, Jean-Claude, that she does not burn you up. Beware, necromancer, that the vampires do not put you in your grave.»
«Your law,» Pantalone yelled, «your law says she must be put to death.»
The dark figure turned toward the struggling pile of people. «Do not dare speak to me of my laws, Pantalone. I made you. I gave you a piece of myself, that is what made you one of the Harlequin. I have been listening to vampires that dwell closer to my physical form. You have been assassinating vampires for council members. You are neutral. You take no sides. That is what makes the Harlequin!» Her voice rose as she spoke until the wind held not just rain but the promise of storm. «I will take back what I gave you. What you used to make these pale imitations of my Columbine and her Giovanni. These are not my Harlequin.»
«Columbine died. I had to make a replacement, and you were not here to guide me.