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."You have as much of this as you want," she told them."Leave the mess and I'll get to it in the morning." She took a step back and eyed Cale determinedly."But I'm going back to bed now, gold or no gold.This ain't no time for decent folks to be up and about.""No, it's not.Thank you, Matilda, and goodnight."Startled by his considerate reply, she muttered under her breath, walked away, and slowly walked back up the creaking stairs.Jak and Cale sat in silence.They picked at the food, their minds on other things.As he spooned in another mouthful of the stew—it was tasty, as Jak had said—Cale looked around the seamy dining room.Empty now, the morning would no doubt find the dirt-stained floor populated by seedy men with dirt-stained souls.Anyone, including fall-down drunks, thieves on the lam, assassins on a job, and whatever other dregs had managed to stumble into Matilda's boardinghouse with enough coin for a night's lodging.Back in Westgate, Cale had taken predawn breakfasts in rooms exactly like this more times than he could count.This is who you are, he thought, and felt no sadness, only resignation.He had tried for years to deny it, to be nothing more than a butler and a kind man, but he was too tired to deny his nature any longer.His soul, too, was dirt-stained, and this was where he belonged."Dark," Jak oathed.He set down his spoon and stared at Cale with wide eyes.Cale waved the candle smoke out of his face."What?" His hand went to his sword hilt and he half rose from the chair.His eyes searched the dark room but he saw nothing."What?"Jak's hand went to the pocket where he kept his holy symbol."Just now," he said, still shocked."The smoke.It.formed a mask around your eyes.""You're mistaken," Cale instinctively protested, but his flesh goosepimpled."I'm not," Jak insisted."Blast.Something's happening here, Cale.With Yrsillar.With us.Something big.Dark and empty, but I can feel it." He pulled his holy symbol from his pocket and rolled it along his knuckles.Cale decided: then to tell Jak everything.Maybe the little man could shed some light on what was happening.MJak, listen.When I faced Yrsillar, he called me a Champion of Mask." He felt stupid saying it aloud, but there it was."That mean anything to you?"Jak shook his head, but his knowing eyes studied Cale intently."He also said that there is another, that there are two champions of Mask." He looked questioningly at the little man."Could that be us?"Jak immediately shook his head and held his holy symbol up between thumb and forefinger."Not possible," he said."You could be one, I suppose, but I couldn't.I'm a priest of Brandobaris.I can't also be the servant of another god, much less the servant of Mask.If there's another Champion, it's someone other than me."Cale accepted that with a nod.He sat back in his chair and gulped his ale.Jak leaned forward and looked at him earnestly."That confirms it though, Cale.The gods are involved here.Or at least Mask.Cale.I think you're being called.""You're crazy." Cale sipped from his ale and tried to keep his hand from shaking.Jak laughed softly."It's hard to get your hands around, I know." He sipped from his own ale."You know how I became a priest of Brandobaris?"Cale looked up and shook his head.They had never discussed Jak's entry into the Trickster's priesthood.Cale welcomed the opportunity to learn more about his friend:"It was Year's End Eve in the Year of the Serpent," Jak said, lust after the Time of Troubles.I was twenty-six then." His voice grew distant as he journeyed far back in his memory."I was doing a fourth-story job in Hillsfar—I was solo then, too," he added with a playful wink, and took a gulp from his ale."Cale, I got in and out of this noble's villa without a bitch, loaded with swag.I had enough king's pictures to last two years." He chuckled and shook his head."But I was young and stupid.Really stupid.I took too much, and it was way too heavy.I got ten feet down the wall, lost my balance, and fell.""Fell! You?" Halfling rogues notoriously lacked climbing skill, but over the years Jak had repeatedly proven himself an exception.Jak nodded, smiling."I should've left nothing more than a bloodstain and a pile of coins on the pavement." He gripped his holy symbol and leaned forward intently."Instead, I drifted to the ground like a feather."Cale knew what that meant—he had heard similar stories before."Divine gift.""Divine gifts" agreed Jak with a nod."I turned over that whole take to the first priest of Brandobaris I could find.Took the rites right there.I was called.You see?"Cale took a draw on his ale."I see.but how'd you know it was Brandobaris that had called you? Why notsome other god? Why not luck? Or the whim of a passing mage?""No, it was the Trickster, all right." Jak nodded thoughtfully and stroked his whiskered chin."How can I explain? I think it's different for everybody, Gale, but I just Anew, you know? The same way you know your mother is your mother, even though you didn't see her give birth to you." He crossed his hands and eyed Gale shrewdly."Has something like that already happened to you?"Gale sipped thoughtfully from his ale and recalled the mysterious darkness that only he had been able to see through."Maybe," he said."Maybe." He felt himself being pulled along through events he didn't fully understand, the marionette of a divine puppeteer.He didn't like it.He would be no one's puppet, not even a god's.Especially not a god's.As though reading his mind, Jak said, "You're always your own man, Gale, even after you accept your calling, and you can reject it.Most don't though—the gods seem to call only those ready and able to accept.Kind of a convergence of mortal and divine interests."It pleased Gale to learn that a call could be rejected.He wasn't sure Mask had tried to call him, but if so, he reserved the right to refuse.I'm not changing for you, Mask, understand? He had tiled changing for Thamalon and Thazienne, and it had only made things worse.He was through with trying to be something other than what he was.A skilled killer.He put Mask out of his mind and finished his stew."You ready?" he asked Jak.The little man's face fell slightly but he rallied quickly."Ready." Hurriedly, Jak slammed back the last of his ale and enjoyed a final spoonful of stew."Then let's do this."TVerdrinal awoke with a start.His heart thumped so hard in his chest that he thought it would surely explode.The residuum of the sound that had awakened him from his nightmare played at the edge of his still sleepy consciousness and promised him an ugly death.There's someone in the room! his mind screamed.Slowly, he slid his hand under the sheets and patted the space to his right—nothing.Dark, he inwardly cursed.For the first night in the last five, he had not taken a lover.He was alone.Terrified, but unwilling to die without trying to take some action, he jerked upright in bed and peered around the opulence of his bedchambers.He saw only darkness—the hearth had burned itself out.It must be several hours past midnight [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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