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Клайв Баркер – Absolute Midnight (страница 2)

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Chapter 40. Bones and Laughter

Chapter 41. Dragon Dust

Chapter 42. The Fiends

Chapter 43. Dark Waters

Chapter 44. Pariah

Part Five: Stormwalker

Chapter 45. The Business of Empire

Chapter 46. Talking of Mysteries

Chapter 47. Convergence

Chapter 48. Smiles

Chapter 49. Of Those Who Walk Behind the Stars

Chapter 50. Out of the Deep

Chapter 51. Father and Son

Chapter 52. Atrocities

Part Six: There is No Tomorrow

Chapter 53. Forgiveness

Chapter 54. The Empress in her Glory

Chapter 55. Below

Chapter 56. The Hand in Fire

Chapter 57. A Knife for Every Heart

Chapter 58. Now, Because

Chapter 59. A Whisper of Infinitude

Chapter 60. Abarataraba

Part Seven: Oblivion’s Call

Chapter 61. Missing

Chapter 62. The Volcano and the Void

Chapter 63. Pigs

Chapter 64. No Plan B

Chapter 65. Lullaby

Chapter 66. Love, Too Late

Chapter 67. Yat Yut Yah

Chapter 68. Deliverance

Chapter 69. For Every Knife, Five Hearts

Chapter 70. Nothing But Stones

Chapter 71. An Execution

Chapter 72. Truth

Chapter 73. Souls

Chapter 74. The Hammer of the Nephauree

Chapter 75. The End of the World

Chapter 76. And Beyond

Copyright

About the Publisher

Prologue What the Blind Man Saw

Dream!

Forge yourself and rise

Out of your mind and into others.

Men, be women.

Fish, be flies.

Girls, take beards.

Sons, be your mothers.

The future of the world now lies

In coral wombs behind our eyes.

—A song sung in Paradise Street

ON THE EARLY COAST of Idjit, where two a.m. looked south over the darkened straits toward the island of Gorgossium, there was a house, its facade much decorated, set high upon the cliffs. Its occupant went by the name of Mr. Kithit, and several others besides, but none of the names were truly his. He was known simply as the Card-Reader. The cards he read were not designed for games of chance. Far from it. He only ever used the Abaratian tarot deck, wherein a reader as expert as Mr. Kithit might find the past murmuring, the present in doubt, and the future barely opening its eyes. A decent living could be made from interpreting the way the cards fell.

For many years the Card-Reader had served the countless customers who came there in search of wisdom. But tonight he was done with serving the curiosity of others. He was done with it forever. Tonight, it was not the future of others he was going to find in the cards. They had summoned him to show him his own destiny.

He sat down and took one slow, calming breath. Then he proceeded to lay out a pattern of nineteen cards chosen by the will of his fingertips. Blind though he was, each image appeared in his mind’s eye, along with its name and numerical place in the pack.

There was Fear. There was The Door to the Stars. There was The King of Fates and The Daughter of Curiosity. Each card was not only to be read for its own values, but also calibrated against the cards surrounding it: a piece of mythological mathematics, which most heads could not fathom.

The Man Lit by Candles; Death’s Island; The Primal Form; The Tree of Knowing . . .

And of course the entire arrangement had to be set against the card that his customer—in this case himself—had chosen as his Avatar. In this case, he had elected a card called The Threshold. He had put it back into the pack and then shuffled the cards twice before laying them out by instinct in the Naught Hereafter Spread, its name signifying that all things the Deck contained would be here displayed: all reparations (the past), all possibilities (now), and all risk (henceforth and ever).

His fingers moved quickly, summoned by a call from the cards. There was something here they wanted to show him. He quickly understood that there was news of great consequence here, so he neglected the rules of reading, one of the first being that a Reader waited until each of the number of cards required for the Spread had been laid out.

A war was coming; he saw it in the cards. The last of the plots were being laid, even now, the weapons loaded and polished, the armies assembled, all in readiness for the day when Abaratian history turned the final corner. Was this the cards’ way of telling him what part there was for him to play in this last, grim game? If so then he would attend to whatever he was being taught, trust to their wisdom as had so many who had come to him over the years, despairing of all other remedy, seeking that which the cards would show.