(eng) Nancy Holzner - Deadtown 02 by Hellforged (v4.1)

Author:Hellforged (v4.1) [Hellforged (v4.1)]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

21

THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS FOLLOWED A PATTERN: MORNINGS, I’d try to read The Book of Utter Darkness. After lunch, a nap, and then I’d practice with Hellforged. Despite Mab’s repeated reminders that we were running out of time, I didn’t make much progress. The book refused to cooperate. Hour after hour, I’d stare at its pages, keeping my mind blank, never knowing for sure whether a thought was arising from my own mind or coming from the book. Lights swam across my vision and my head ached, but the book kept its secrets or mocked me by repeating Pryce’s damn prophecy: From a goddess two lines diverged, but they shall be reunited in Victory. One morning, I got a glimmer of something else: And shall thrice-tested Victory be conquered? The words flickered across my mind, then went dark. One whole sentence—big deal. Pryce had proclaimed there’d be three tests, so it wasn’t even news. The book remained silent about the things I needed to know—like what even one of those tests would be.

From afternoon into evening, I practiced with Hellforged. Each session began like the first; the athame was skittish and flew out of my hand. By centering, I could calm it down and line it up with my own vibration. Keeping it in alignment was another matter. The moment my concentration slipped, Hellforged bucked and jumped and, nine times out of ten, got away from me. Staying in control meant maintaining intense, unwavering focus. By the time I knocked off for the day, usually when it was getting too dark to see, my nerves thrummed with fatigue.

When I wasn’t training or trying to read, I slept. No matter how many hours I spent in bed, I couldn’t sleep enough. The exertion of my daytime activities wore me out, but worse was the effect of Mab’s no-dreaming tea. The tea kept Difethwr out of my dreamscape, but it kept me out, too. Sleeping was like standing on the wrong side of a brick wall that stretched up, up, up—into the sky and out of sight. I slept without dreams and woke up exhausted, like I’d spent the dreamless hours beating my head against that wall. Mab was right—nobody could live this way for long. Dark-shadowed hollows etched themselves under my eyes, my features sharpened, and my skin took on a yellow-gray undertone. Although I was sleeping more than ever, I looked like I hadn’t shut my eyes for a week.

The still-fading black eyes added to my ghoulish look. I wasn’t going to be ready for my close-up anytime soon, that was for sure.

On the third afternoon, Mab said I was ready to practice the “stoning the crows” ritual with Hellforged, rather than empty-handed. I took a few minutes to get centered, then held out my left hand, open and palm up. Mab placed the athame there. It trembled, and I focused on my breathing until it settled down. I closed my fingers lightly around the grip. Hellforged hiccupped a couple of times.

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