Read Online KNIGHT OF SHADOWS by Roger Zelazny - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Roger Zelazny
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some future bit of leisure.
I began walking. My footsteps were soundless. When I kicked a pebble and it bounced along before me, I could detect nothing of sound to its passage.
White to the left of me, black to the right. Mountains or desert. I turned left, walking. Nothing else in motion that I could see except for the black, black clouds. To the lee side of every outcrop a near-blinding area of enhanced brightness: crazy shadows across a crazy land.
Turn left again. Three pacer, then round the boulder: Upward. Over the ridge, Turn downhill. Turn right, Soon a streak of red amid rocks to the left...
Nope. Next time then...
Brief twinge in the frontal sinus. No red. Move on.
Crevice to the right, next turn...
I massaged my temples when they began to ache as no crevice was delivered. My breath came heavy, and I felt moisture upon my brow.
Textures of gray to green and brittle flowers, slate-blue, low on the next talus slope...
A small pain in my neck. No flowers. No gray. No green.
Then let the clouds part and the darkness pour down from the sun . .
.Nothing
...and a sound of running water from a small stream, next gully.
I had to halt. My head was throbbing; my hands were shaking. I reached out and touched the rock wall to my left. It felt solid enough. Rampant reality. Why was it treading all over me?
And how had I gotten here?
And where was here?
I relaxed. I slowed my breathing and adjusted my energies. The pains in my head subsided, ebbed, were gone.
Again I began walking.
Birdsong and gentle breeze . . Flower in a crannied nook
No. And the first twinge of returning resistance...What sort of spell might I be under, that I had lost my power to walk in Shadow? I had never understood it to be something that could be taken away.
“It’s not funny,” I tried saying. “Whoever you are, whatever you are, how did you do it? What do you want? Where are you?”
Again I heard nothing; least of all an answer.
“I don’t know how you did it. Or why,” I mouthed, and thought. “I don’t feel as if I’m under a spell. But I must be here for a reason. Get on with your business. Tell me what you want.”
Nada.
I walked on, continuing in a halfhearted fashion my attempts to shift away through Shadow. As I did, I pondered my situation. I’d a feeling there was something elementary that I was overlooking in this entire business.
...And a small red flower behind a rock, next turn.
I made the turn, and there was the small red flower I had half consciously conjured. I rushed toward it to touch it, to confirm that the universe was a benign, essentially Merlin-loving place.
I stumbled in my rush, kicking up a cloud of dust. I caught myself, raised myself, looked about. I must have searched for the next ten or fifteen minutes, but I could not locate the flower. Finally, I cursed and turned away. No one likes to be a butt of the universe’s jokes.
On a sudden inspiration I sought through all my packets, should I have even a chip of the blue stones upon my person. Its odd vibrational abilities might just somehow conduct me through Shadow back toward its source. But no. Not even a speck of blue dust remained. They all were in my father’s tomb, and that was it. It would have been too easy an out for me, I guess.
What was I missing?
A fake Dworkin, a fake Oberon, and a man who’d claimed to be my father all had wanted to conduct me to some strange place-to compete in some sort of struggle between the Powers, the Oberon figure had indicated, whatever that meant. The Corwin figure had apparently succeeded, I reflected as I rubbed my jaw. Only what sort of game was it? And what were the Powers?
The Oberon thing had said something about my choosing between Amber and Chaos. But, then, it had lied about other things during the same conversation. The devil with both
I began walking. My footsteps were soundless. When I kicked a pebble and it bounced along before me, I could detect nothing of sound to its passage.
White to the left of me, black to the right. Mountains or desert. I turned left, walking. Nothing else in motion that I could see except for the black, black clouds. To the lee side of every outcrop a near-blinding area of enhanced brightness: crazy shadows across a crazy land.
Turn left again. Three pacer, then round the boulder: Upward. Over the ridge, Turn downhill. Turn right, Soon a streak of red amid rocks to the left...
Nope. Next time then...
Brief twinge in the frontal sinus. No red. Move on.
Crevice to the right, next turn...
I massaged my temples when they began to ache as no crevice was delivered. My breath came heavy, and I felt moisture upon my brow.
Textures of gray to green and brittle flowers, slate-blue, low on the next talus slope...
A small pain in my neck. No flowers. No gray. No green.
Then let the clouds part and the darkness pour down from the sun . .
.Nothing
...and a sound of running water from a small stream, next gully.
I had to halt. My head was throbbing; my hands were shaking. I reached out and touched the rock wall to my left. It felt solid enough. Rampant reality. Why was it treading all over me?
And how had I gotten here?
And where was here?
I relaxed. I slowed my breathing and adjusted my energies. The pains in my head subsided, ebbed, were gone.
Again I began walking.
Birdsong and gentle breeze . . Flower in a crannied nook
No. And the first twinge of returning resistance...What sort of spell might I be under, that I had lost my power to walk in Shadow? I had never understood it to be something that could be taken away.
“It’s not funny,” I tried saying. “Whoever you are, whatever you are, how did you do it? What do you want? Where are you?”
Again I heard nothing; least of all an answer.
“I don’t know how you did it. Or why,” I mouthed, and thought. “I don’t feel as if I’m under a spell. But I must be here for a reason. Get on with your business. Tell me what you want.”
Nada.
I walked on, continuing in a halfhearted fashion my attempts to shift away through Shadow. As I did, I pondered my situation. I’d a feeling there was something elementary that I was overlooking in this entire business.
...And a small red flower behind a rock, next turn.
I made the turn, and there was the small red flower I had half consciously conjured. I rushed toward it to touch it, to confirm that the universe was a benign, essentially Merlin-loving place.
I stumbled in my rush, kicking up a cloud of dust. I caught myself, raised myself, looked about. I must have searched for the next ten or fifteen minutes, but I could not locate the flower. Finally, I cursed and turned away. No one likes to be a butt of the universe’s jokes.
On a sudden inspiration I sought through all my packets, should I have even a chip of the blue stones upon my person. Its odd vibrational abilities might just somehow conduct me through Shadow back toward its source. But no. Not even a speck of blue dust remained. They all were in my father’s tomb, and that was it. It would have been too easy an out for me, I guess.
What was I missing?
A fake Dworkin, a fake Oberon, and a man who’d claimed to be my father all had wanted to conduct me to some strange place-to compete in some sort of struggle between the Powers, the Oberon figure had indicated, whatever that meant. The Corwin figure had apparently succeeded, I reflected as I rubbed my jaw. Only what sort of game was it? And what were the Powers?
The Oberon thing had said something about my choosing between Amber and Chaos. But, then, it had lied about other things during the same conversation. The devil with both
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