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"They can't get in," Gabrielle said in a low monotone, her head still cocked attentively. "They can't break the gate. "
I wasn't so certain. The gate was rusted, very old. Nothing to do but wait.
I collapsed on the floor, leaning against the side of the sarcophagus, my arms around my chest and my back bent. I wasn't even laughing anymore.
She too sat down against the wal
l with her legs sprawled out before her. Her chest heaved a little, and her hair was coming loose from the braid. It was a cobra's hood around her face, loose strands clinging to her white cheeks. Soot clung to her garments.
The heat of the fire was crushing. The airless room shimmered with vapors and the flames rose to shut out the night. But we could breathe the little air there was. We suffered nothing except the fear and the exhaustion.
And gradually I realized she was right about the gate. They hadn't managed to break it down. I could hear them drawing away.
"May the wrath of God punish the profane!"
There was some faint commotion near the stables. I saw in my mind my poor half-witted mortal stable boy dragged in terror from his hiding place, and my rage was redoubled. They were sending me images of it from their thoughts, the murder of that poor boy. Damn them.
"Be still," Gabrielle said. "It's too late. "
Her eyes widened and then grew small again as she listened. He was dead, the poor miserable creature.
I felt the death just as if I had seen a small dark bird suddenly rising from the stables. And she sat forward as though seeing it too, and then settled back as if she had lost consciousness, though she had not. She murmured and it sounded like "red velvet," but it was under her breath and I didn't catch the words.
"I'll punish you for this, you gang of ruffians!" I said aloud. I sent it out towards them. "You trouble my house. I swear you'll pay for this. "
But my limbs were getting heavier and heavier. The heat of the fire was almost drugging. All the night's strange happenings were taking their toll.
In my exhaustion and in the glare of the fire I could not guess the hour. I think I fell to dreaming for an instant, and woke myself with a shiver, unsure of how much time had passed.
I looked up and saw the figure of an unearthly young boy, an exquisite young boy, pacing the floor of the chamber.
Of course it was only Gabrielle.
Chapter 6
6
She gave the impression of almost rampant strength as she walked back and forth. Yet all of it was contained in an unbroken grace. She kicked at the timbers and watched the blackened ruin of the fire flare for a moment before settling into itself again. I could see the sky. An hour perhaps remained.
"But who are they?" she asked. She stood over me, her legs apart, her hands in two liquid summoning gestures. "Why do they call us outlaws and blasphemers?"
"I've told you everything I know," I confessed. "Until tonight I didn't think they possessed faces or limbs or real voices. "
I climbed to my feet and brushed off my clothes.
"They damned us for entering the churches!" she said. "Did you catch it, those images coming from them? And they don't know how we managed to do it. They themselves would not dare. "
For the first time I observed that she was trembling. There were other small signs of alarm, the way the flesh quivered around her eyes, the way that she kept pushing the loose strands of her hair out of her eyes again.
"Gabrielle," I said. I tried to make my tone authoritative, reassuring. "The important thing is to get out of here now. We don't know how early those creatures rise, or how soon after sunset they'll return. We have to discover another hiding place. "
"The dungeon crypt," she said.
"A worse trap than this," I said, "if they break through the gate. " I glanced at the sky again. I pulled the stone out of the low passage. "Come on," I said.
"But where are we going?" she asked. For the first time tonight she looked almost fragile.
"To a village east of here," I said. "It's perfectly obvious that the safest place is within the village church itself. "
