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    Beside him, he could feel another black-tinged presence, sometimes helping,
    sometimes leading.
     There! exclaimed Ayrlyn.  There! Push again!
     I m pushing, groaned Siret.
    Nylan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get the room to stop swirling
    around him.
     You have to push again, announced Jaseen.  You ve still got the
    afterbirth.
     Hurts&  Siret s voice was low, but stronger.
     You can do it.
     Good.
    After a time, the engineer stood and looked at Ayrlyn.  You did it.
     No, you did it. I didn t have the nerve to try until you started.
     We did it, then.
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    They looked at Siret, and at the girl she held to her breast, the infant
    with the silver fuzz on her scalp that would be silver hair like her mother s.
    Siret smiled, finally, wanly, and then said,  Thank you. I could feel you
    changing things& somehow. She wouldn t have lived, would she?
     No, said Jaseen.  But she s a strong little girl. So don t you worry.
    Now, we ve got to get you two cleaned up, and I can do that. Those two -and
    she jerked her head toward Nylan and Ayrlyn- they spent every bit of that
    magic they had on you. You re a lucky woman.
    Siret s green eyes closed for a moment, then opened.  I m so tired.
    Nylan extended his perceptions, afraid she might be hemorrhaging or
    something worse, but, beyond the damages his mind and senses insisted were
    normal-he could only find exhaustion.
    He shook his head.
     Anything wrong? asked Jaseen.
     No. Except that everyone insists this is normal.
    Ayrlyn and Jaseen laughed.
     I need some tea, Nylan said,  and I can t do anything more here. He felt
    guilty as he stepped away, but Siret and her baby daughter seemed all right.
    He tried to ignore the blood that seemed to be everywhere as Jaseen started
    with the antiseptic.
    Slowly, he made his way down the stairs, but a faint smile came to his face
    as he realized that, strange as it had been, everything had turned out the way
    it should. He crossed the great room, half aware that the tables were mostly
    empty and that Ryba had left.
     You look like a proud father, said Gerlich cheerfully.
    Narliat smiled nervously.
     You know, Gerlich, Nylan said coldly.  The woman was in pain. For the
    record, not that it should matter, I never slept with her. And you should know
    that. So shut up before I stuff you into a piece of stone. He turned and sat
    down at the end of the table.
    Gerlich sat silently, as if stunned, but Nylan didn t care. He was tired of
    Gerlich s games and insinuations.
    Ryba had already left, but Kyseen or Kadran, or someone, had left the bread
    and some tea. The tea was lukewarm, but tasted good. Nylan ate the bread
    slowly, sipping the tea.
    After a time, Ayrlyn sat down across from him.  Thank you. We might have
    lost them both.
     You were doing fine. I just made it easier. He cupped his hands around
    the mug, glancing at the window behind her, aware that the snow had melted
    and/or sublimated off the armaglass.
     Siret was glad you were there.
     I m just an engineer, stumbling along and doing what I can. He refilled
    his mug, then hers.  I make a lot of mistakes.
    Her hand touched his wrist, just for a moment, and he felt a sense of
    warmth.  You re a good man, Nylan. It s&  She broke off the words, and
    repeated,  You re a good man. Don t forget it.
    Nylan looked toward the window, hoping spring was coming, and dreading it
    at the same time. He took another sip of tea, vaguely aware that Ayrlyn had
    slipped away, as his thoughts skittered across Siret and a silver-haired
    child, across a tower without enough food, across Gerlich s uncharacteristic
    silence, across Ayrlyn s warmth.
    He sipped more tea, tea that had become cold without his noticing it.
    LXVI
    AS HE HEADED back up to the tower s top level, Nylan paused on the steps,
    looking into the tower s third level with eyes and senses. There, in the
    darkness, a silver-haired guard held a silver-haired infant daughter to her
    breast and gently rocked back and forth on the rocking chair that all the
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    guards, and even Nylan, had helped to make.
     Hush, little Kyalynn, hush little angel&  Siret s voice was low, but
    sweet, and apparently disturbed none of the guards sleeping on the couches in
    the alcoves spaced along the tower walls and separated by the dividers many
    had not only crafted, but personally decorated and carved.
    Some remained awake. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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