Tepper,Sheri - The Song of Mavin Manyshaped by Song of Mavin Manyshaped

Author:Song of Mavin Manyshaped [Manyshaped, Song of Mavin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

"The woman said ghoul-plague, did she? And that is what the host outside the gate is besieging us for? Then I am deeply worried, lad."

"What is this disease?" Mavin asked. "I had never heard of it."

"It begins, some say, with the eating of human flesh. For this reason it is called ghoul-plague. In my reading of history, however, I have found that it may not be human flesh but the flesh of shadowpeople which causes the disease. Once begun, it is like other plagues, crossing from those who have eaten the forbidden flesh to those who have not. It is carried from place to place, and none know how."

"Mertyn touched the sick man, in the alley. The man drooled on him. On his face."

"That may have been enough. A very ancient book spoke of disease being spread by the bites of small creatures, little blood suckers or flitter bats. 1 have seen plagues of similar kind. Some do recover." He did not sound hopeful.

"The woman said the shadowpeople are said to cure this plague," said Mavin. For the past hour she had been making plans, moving pieces of information about in her head. "I'm going to go find them, Gamesmaster."

"Find the shadowpeople?" The Fon was amazed. "They can't be found by anyone wishing to do so."

"Perhaps not. But I must try. Will you care for Mertyn while I am gone? I would not ask this thing of you, except that you are kindly and good, and you cannot leave the city anyhow."

"And you," murmured Windlow. "How will you leave the city?"

"The way that Demon did," she said. "The Armiger said he went through tunnels."

"By all the Gamegods, child. Those tunnels lead to Hell's Maw. And I do not know, nor do any in this city know for all I can tell, whether there is any way out of Hell's Maw at all."

Though both of them tried to dissuade her, speaking quietly so as not to disturb Mertyn, she would not be moved.

"I must go. Never mind about Poffle. I'll get through Poffle. Never mind about shadowpeople, I'll … " And still they argued.

Until suddenly old Windlow stiffened where he stood, his face turning rigid and pale, his hands stretching out as though to touch something the others could not see.

"He's having a vision," whispered the Fon. "Quiet. It affects him in this way sometimes when he is very upset." They watched, not touching him, as he swayed upon his feet, his eyes darting from side to side as though watching some wild movement or affray, they could not see. Then his eyes shut, he swayed, caught at the bed to keep himself from falling, and gasped deeply, like a man coming from under water and desperate for air.

"We must let her go, Twizzledale," he said at last.

"Let … her go? Mavin? Oh, come now, Windlow. Or have I been unwizardly?" He turned to give Mavin a keen look, swiftly up and down.

Mavin, staring at the Seer, knew that the Fon

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