Weis, Margaret - Death Gate Cycle 02 - Elven Star by Weis Margaret

Author:Weis, Margaret [Weis, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Epic, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780553290981
Google: IFV6PwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0553290983
Publisher: Spectra
Published: 1990-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

... Haplo was in his nineteenth year in the Labyrinth when he met the woman. Like him, she was a runner, almost his age. Her goal was the same as his—to escape. They traveled together, finding pleasure in each other’s company. Love, if not unknown in the Labyrinth, is not admitted. Lust is acceptable—the need to procreate, to perpetuate the species, to bring children into the world to fight the Labyrinth. By day the two traveled, seeking the next Gate. By night, their rune-tattooed bodies twined together.

And then one day, the two came upon a group of squatters—those in the Labyrinth who travel in packs, who move slowly and represent civilization as far as anything can in that hellish prison. As was customary, Haplo and his companion brought a gift of meat and, as was customary, the squatters invited them to accept the use of their crude lodgings and find a measure of peace and security for a few nights.

Haplo, sitting at ease by the fire, watched the woman play with the children. The woman was lithe and lovely. Her thick chestnut hair fell over firm, round breasts, tattooed with the magical runes that were both shield and weapon. The baby she held in her arms was likewise tattooed—every child was from the day it was born. She looked up at Haplo and something special and secret was shared between them—his pulse quickened.

“Come on,” he whispered, kneeling beside her. “Let’s go back to the hut.”

“No,” she said, smiling and looking at him from a veil of thick hair. “It’s too early. It would offend our hosts.”

“The hell with our hosts!” Haplo wanted her in his arms, wanted to lose himself in the warmth and the sweet darkness.

She ignored him, singing to the baby, teasing him throughout the remainder of the evening until his blood was on fire. When they eventually sought the privacy of their hut, there was no sleep for either of them that night.

“Would you like a baby?” she asked, in one of their quiet moments after the transports of pleasure.

“What does that mean?” He looked at her with a fierce, hungry eagerness.

“Nothing. Just ... would you want one? You’d have to become a squatter, you know.”

“Not necessarily. My parents were runners and they had me.”

Haplo saw his parents dead, bodies hacked to pieces. They’d clouted him on the head, knocked him out so that he wouldn’t see, so that he wouldn’t scream. He said nothing more about babies that night.

The next morning, the squatters had news—a Gate up ahead had supposedly fallen. The way was still dangerous, but if they could get through, it would mean another step nearer to escape, another step nearer reaching the rumored safe haven of the Nexus. Haplo and the woman left the squatters’ village.

They made their cautious, wary way through the thick forest. Both were expert fighters—the only reason they had lived this long—and they recognized the signs, the smell, and the prickling of the runes upon their flesh. They were, therefore, almost prepared.

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