Kill the Dead by Tanith Lee (beach read book txt) 📕

“Hey!”Myal yelled. “Hey!”

A birdshot out of a tree. Dro stopped, but did not turn. Myal shouted up at him, “I’mnot going any farther. It’s getting dark.”

Then herealized Dro had not stopped because of any of his shouts.

Absurdly,ordered to leave the subject alone, Myal had almost succeeded in wiping it fromhis mind. A feeling of apprehension which came with the fading of day could beinterpreted simply as normal antipathy to another night on hard ground, withpossibilities of foraging bears and no supper. Ciddey Soban had been pushedinto a corner of Myal’s consciousness. He had not wanted to dwell on her.

But nowhe recollected, and with good reason.

Dro wasin front of him, about fifty feet away. Perhaps forty feet ahead of Dro a girlwas stepping nimbly up the slope. She did not turn, or hesitate, or threaten,or mock. She was only there, walking, pale as a new star. Ciddey. Terrible,unshakable Ciddey.

Myalswallowed his heart as a matter of course. He went after Dro, prowling,delicate, as if travelling across thin ice. If the girl-ghost turned, he wasready to freeze, change into a tree, dive down a hole—

She didnot turn.

Hereached Dro. Through the closing curtains of darkness Myal peered at theghost-killer’s impassive face.

“It’snot my fault,” Myal whispered.

Dro didnot whisper, though he spoke softly.

“Maybe.She shouldn’t be able to manifest without a link. There doesn’t appear to beone. But she’s there.”

“Do youwant me to play the song upside down again?”

“No. Idon’t think there’s much point. I’d say she only left last time out of a kindof scornful sense of etiquette.”

“Whatdo we do?”

“Followher. That’s her intention. We might learn something by falling in with it.”

“Where’s—where’sshe going?”

“Wheredo you think?”

“Tulo—theGhyste.”

“TheGhyste. She’d know the road. That’s not illogical.”

“Inevery story I ever heard,” said Myal, “a vengeful spirit pursues, it doesn’t lead.Suppose she stops?”

“Shutup,” Dro said, still softly. “Start walking.”

Myal,forgetting the burning ache in his muscles, walked. They both walked, andCiddey Soban, not turning, walked before them, into the black cavern of night.

Andthen the black cavern of night parted seamlessly to let her through, and shewas gone.

Atfirst they waited, glancing about for her. Trees grouped together on the slopeahead, hiding what lay beyond. After an unspeaking minute, they went on andthrough the trees. Nothing stirred, the dark was empty once more. At the edgeof the trees, the ground levelled and brimmed over into a great velvet moonlessvoid, like the end of the world, but which was most probably woods.

Theylooked down at it.

“She’sgone,” announced Myal. He thought of something. “If she used me to comethrough, I didn’t feel it this time, or last. Only that time in the priests’hostel, when I was sick.”

“You’regetting accustomed to giving her energy, that’s why. That’s when it becomesmost dangerous.”

“Thanks.I feel so much happier now.”

Myalsat on the turf, put his arms across his knees and his head on his arms.Despite his words, he was exhausted, and dully afraid.

“We’llsee the night out here,” said Dro.

“Whatstupendous fun.”

“I meanto watch for three hours. Then it’s your turn.”

“I’mnot watching. I might see something and scare myself to death.”

“If yousee anything, you wake me. You’re watching.”

“Allright. I’m watching.”

An hourlater, the moon came up in a long stream of cloud.

Myal was twitchily asleep. Drostared across the land, keeping quite incredibly motionless, seldom blinking,as if it were his curse, as with certain guardians in myth, to watch forever.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Oh,Myal,” said a girl, licking his ear tenderly. “Oh, Myalmyalmyal.”

Myalwoke up, already excited and apprehensive.

“Someonecall?”

“Oh,Myal,” said the girl. “Ohmyal.”

Shelay on her elbow at his side. Her ash-blonde hair fell across both their faces.He knew who it was, and wondered why he was not petrified. Then it came to him.The simple, obvious solution. Dro had been mistaken, and so had Myal himself.Ciddey was not dead.

Whenhe had dragged her out of the water, he had saved her, just as he desperatelymeant to do. That she had not revived at once was not utterly surprising. Hehad been wrong about the strangulated face—a trick of light, and his alarm, theimpending fever. No, Ciddey lived, and she had somehow caught them up. She wasplaying with Dro, punishing him. But she had decided to reveal the truth toMyal, who had rescued her.

“You’renot dead,” he murmured, vocalising his thoughts.

“Yousay the nicest things.” She kissed his cheek lightly.

Heshivered, with pleasure and nervousness. And then it occurred to him to lookabout for Parl  Dro. Presently he located a dark inconclusive shape, stretchedacross the base of a tree, which had to be Dro. So much for watching. Or... hadit been Myal’s watch, and had Myal fallen asleep?

“Iwant you to come with me,” said Ciddey Soban, touching him once more with herreal live icy lips.

“Well,I really ought—”

“Don’targue. You know you like me. Let’s go for a walk together. Wouldn’t you likethat? Down into the wood. It isn’t far.”

“Well,all right.”

Hehad gone walking in a wood with the Gray Duke’s daughter. The walk had ended ina pile of leaves, and ultimately, a few months later, in an escape by night, withthirty of the Duke’s men, drunken and murderous and equipped with mastiffs, inheadlong pursuit. Somehow, Myal had got away. Somehow, he always did. Maybe hewas not so unlucky as he generally believed himself.

Withfeigned debonair nonchalance, he let the girl draw him, by her small cold hand,down the slope. Almost inadvertently, he had slung on the instrument as he cameto his feet. Now, as they picked their way among roots and channels in theearth, the weight of the wood unbalanced him, and he and she would bump intoeach other, which was not necessarily displeasing. Minute by minute, Myal grewmore excited and more apprehensive. By the time they entered the first archingavenues of the woods that walled the end of the slope, he was feverish and stupidlylaughing, clinging to the girl whenever he could, his heart noisy in his ears,an awful leaden murmur of warning droning, ignored, in the pit of his brain.

She,too, undrowned Ciddey, seemed a little fevered. In the soft, faintlyluminescent cave of the wood, she turned and embraced him. The long, long kisswas cold and marvellous. Their bodies melted into one another and clamourednever to draw away. In