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starry-eyed,  Amandor s lines 
  should do the trick, and Samael delivers them fairly well, Daev
finished.
 Perfectly.
 Not perfectly, but very well. Daev had been hearing far too much
about the perfect Samael lately.  It won t matter if we don t finish the set
paintings, the costumes, and the effects, will it? Samael, how is the
proofing coming? It seemed to be taking forever, and Daev had agreed to
let the alchemist alone until it was done.
Samael pointed to a stack of trays, each filled with blocks of carved
letters.  I ran the test copy this morning, then changed it and ran another
copy. I changed it again 
 You all think I change things too much, Frenni muttered.
 It s a wonderful book, Kela chimed.
 I assumed it was perfect, Daev said shortly.  It s a good combination.
The potions advertise the play, we presell the book, and happy customers
tell all their friends about the next performance. Now all we have to do is
get the book proofed and bound for tonight. He emphasized  tonight.
Samael looked up, shocked.  I want to proof it one more time.
 How many times have you proofed it already?
The young man looked down again, scanning the pages.  This next one
will be the fifth.
 The fifth? Daev looked at the others in disbelief. They were all
staring at him.  Listen, all of you. We have to complete the sets, finish the
costumes, set up Samael s special effects, print the book, bind the book,
distribute all fifty copies as promised, and we have to do it all in one
night. He rubbed his eyes.  Gods, I can t believe we open tomorrow.
Now even Tasslehoff looked worried.
Daev pointed at the bare stage.  Kela, paint the backdrop. Samael, help
me with the sets and the costumes. We ll do the effects last. Frenni, your
job is to print the book, bind it, and run it from house to house.
Samael shook his head, frowning.  But I want to help print 
 Frenni s a specialist, Daev assured Samael.  No more proofing, he
added firmly.
 He can do the book, said Frenni.  I could work on the special
effects!
 Finish the book, Frenni, and you can help with the special effects.
Now go. Daev tugged on Samael s sleeve, dragging him off to work.
The alchemist resisted.  Can t I just proof it one more time?
 Name of the gods, let it go. It will be fine. Daev said with only a hint
of bitterness,  I m sure that, like everything you do, it will be wonderful
and perfect. He called back to Frenni with more asperity than was
necessary,  Set up the print trays on the table and start running copies.
Double time.
 All right, Frenni said sulkily. He watched the humans leave to work
on the scenery.
 They don t appreciate my hidden talents, he muttered as he moved
the trays of print and stacked them on the table.  I may not write, but I can
sure improvise. You want a dragon? I can do a dragon. He spun around,
ducking and weaving from an invisible dragon, and set another tray down.
 You want magic? I can do magic which is in very short supply
nowadays. He set one of the trays on the end of his hoopak and spun the
tray, walking with it to the table. As the tray spun and wobbled, he slid it
dexterously on top of the others.
Carrying the last tray, he kept up the griping.  Double time he wants,
double time he ll get. All the more time for special effects later on. He
wasn t watching where he was going, tripped on a tree root and fell
sprawling against the table. All eight trays of set pages slid down, letters
and words raining down like stones in an avalanche.
Frenni dusted himself off and looked in dismay at the mess. The set
pages had gaps interspersed throughout, ingredients and instructions and
sometimes titles missing.
He thought of what the others would say when he told them what
happened and sighed. Some days working with humans just wasn t as
much fun as he d thought.
Scene 4. A Road at Night
Sharmaen: I fear my father s thunder.
Amandor: Gentle sweet,
his love is tropical, his anger chill,
Such men mix hot and cold; their troubled air
will cloud and draw their lightning. Fear them not,
Saving your terror for the icy men
Loveless, unsummered with a wintry heart.
 The Book of Love, act 2, scene 2.
A hand crawled desperately on the road dust, as though trying to escape
the body attached to it. The pulse throbbed visibly in the wrist.
The crawling slowed became intermittent and the hand twisted
upside down, fingers quivering in the air like the legs of a dying spider.
Tulaen regarded the hand with as close to regret as he would ever
show.  If only you had known more, he said to the corpse.  You could
have said so much more. You might have lasted till morning.
He stood, the cold night wind stirring his beard. Tulaen slept very little.
 You traded a haying wagon to a man, a kender, and a girl on the road.
They gave you a stack of books. You said the girl sketched you. He
tugged at his beard, thinking.  I wonder, now does she sketch the
pictures for the books?
He looked at the blood trail behind the corpse. It was three times the
length of the body and could have been so much more.  Well, there s no
use asking you. At least you knew where they were going.
While waiting until morning, he tied a log to a rope and slung it from a
low hanging limb. He set it spinning in the faint light and chopped it with
his broadsword, ducking with practiced ease. For the next log he put a
patch over one eye and led with his left. For the last he tied his feet
together, and still the spinning log never hit him.
By dawn he had an impressive pile of splintery tinder and kindling. He
cooked a quick breakfast and began his walk toward Xak Faoleen.
Scene 5. A Stage, in Xak Faoleen
Sharmaen: Crisis pursues, and crisis we pursue Mid-scene
in madness, endings overdue.
 The Book of Love, act 3
The stage was nothing but boards on sawhorses, with stairs at either
side and a second level to stand in for hills and balcony scenes. The
theater was row on row of planks on upright logs. The backdrop was
painted cloth beautifully painted by Kela, a neighborhood scene, but
only cloth and paint nonetheless. The few pieces of scenery suitably
minimalist were some upright crenellated boards for a castle, three
torches in stands for a hallway by night, and two standing branches for a
wood.
The whole effect, Daev reflected, was much like magic must have
been. Already they felt the distance, like an invisible wall, between the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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