Illusion by Paula Volsky

Author:Paula Volsky [Volsky, Paula]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780553081459
Google: WYskW-0xCNoC
Amazon: 0553560220
Publisher: Bantam Books
Published: 1991-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

"But those are among the greatest families of Vonahr. The vo Crevs-they have married into royalty from time to time. A vo Chaumelle was commander-in-chief of the Vonahrish armies in the Jurlian-Zenki Wars, that name goes back for ever. Surely the 't canaille would not presume to harm them. Arrest them, yes. but they would never dare to- to Her voice trailed off.

"Stazzi vo Crev will be executed tomorrow afternoon," Meureille informed her expressionlessly. "The others I have named will shortly follow, to be followed in turn by many others of equally Exalted rank.

Mere eminence no longer furnishes the slightest protection; quite the contrary, in fact. Lately, each afternoon's parade of sacrificial victims includes a quota of Exalteds. often of the highest nobility.

Far from decrying the brutality, the SherreenJan mob relishes the spectacle. Every day, the street before the Sepulchre courtyard gate is thronged from dawn to dusk and quite impassible to traffic. The noise and nuisance are so extreme that a sizable faction of neighbour hood residents demands the Kokotte's removal to some alternative site, and the matter is periodically debated in congress."

He spoke in a quiet, almost matter-of-fact tone that somehow underscored the horror of his news, and he was staring straight into her shocked eyes.

Unable to sustain the level gaze, Eliste looked away; wishing with all her heart that she had known better than to question him.

"But come, did you know nothing of this? Have you no idea what goes on in the world about you?" Perfect courtesy did not altogether mask his impatience. "Do you never read the popular journals?" "Madame does not encourage it." Eliste stirred uncomfortably.

"She considers them vulgar." "Ah, she seeks to protect you, but I think she does you no real service in preserving your ignorance. You are not a child, and it is time your eyes were opened. Here then, Exalted miss- Meureille reached into his pocket and brought forth a wad of folded tabloids, cheaply printed on coarse yellowish paper.

Eliste accepted almost reluctantly. A trio of titles jumped off the pages at her. The Compeer, official mouthpiece of the Reparationist Party; The Ink Sac, audacious underground successor to the recently burked Rat Town Gadfly; and Shorvi Nirienne's latest essay, The New Tyrants. For a moment, she was tempted to refuse them; but curiosity overcame her, and she quickly stowed the papers away out of sight in her little burled blue-wood sewing box, that sat on the floor beside her chair.

"Read them, Exalted miss," Meureille urged, 'and you will learn.

Perhaps you will come to comprehend the magnitude of the danger that surrounds us. And when you do, perhaps you will succeed where I have not in swaying the will of your grandmother. Try to make her understand. Tell her that the path to safety remains clear, although not for ever. Tell her this protracted lingering is sheerest madness.

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