"Jane S. Fancher - Moonlover and the Fountain of Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fancher Jane S)

Cal winced, and I closed my mouth on the unnatural sounds. "What happened?" Mother's voice, a voice
very like mine had become, finished for me. The words echoed in the cavern. "Nothing happened,
Calwern of Tandoshin, worshiper of ... lightning." And Mother herself appeared-for the first time to one
of my lovers-standing on the edge of the pool, her tail whipping from side to side, her scales glimmering
in the light from the pool. "This is my child, Tammerlindh."
"Mother, no!" I cried in protest, but it was too late, and I was condemned by my own words. Cal stared
at me in horror. "Cal, this isn't . . . I'm human, Cal, as human as you. I was born in Kheroshin. Bastard,
yes, but human. My mother hid me for years, but the village women discovered me, stole me from her
hut, and left me, naked and bound in the woods. Mother found me, yes. Raised me, yes. But this-" I
raised my hands between us. "This is not me! She's done this-" And turning to Mother, I begged an
answer. "Why?"
"For truth, child. For love. True love will break the spell."
"Cal loves me. -Don't you, Cal?"
But the horror remained on Cal's handsome face, and the distance between us grew steadily.
"Cal?" I held out my hands, pleading, and something in my eyes must have reached Cal at last, because
almost, I swear, he lifted his hand to meet mine.
But at his movement, the pool rippled, sending out waves of light.
The scales on my fingers glittered.
Cal jerked back, shook his head as I reached desperately for him, shook his head again as he stumbled
out of the pool and up through the tunnel.
"The garden is dying."
Mother's words: the first sounds I recall from the days following my death.
"So am I."
But in truth, I was already dead, my sleek, scaled form nothing but a mobile tomb.
"Rabbit piss. Get back up there and tend your roses."
My answer was to slither farther into the utter darkness of the cavern depths. Somewhere in that time
following my death, I'd left behind the rejuvenating pools. Lack of food and water made my reptilian
shell ever smaller, allowing for deeper and deeper penetration into oblivion.
But one day I made one crawl too many. Before me, then around me, the glow returned.
"Too easy, child." Mother's voice in my head, and in the next moment, sunlight blinded me.
Well, not permanently: Mother wasn't a total fool. She transported me into the shadows beneath an
arbor, but it took many long minutes for my long-unused vision to return. When it did, I wished for the
darkness back.
The garden was, indeed, dying.
I tried to stand, but my body had forgotten how to walk. I crawled slowly to the heart of the garden,
where the Fountain ran clear and cold as mountain ice-melt, its lifeblood totally consumed.
I had no knife, my clothing was gone with my skin, but I had the weapons of my new form. I aimed a
sharp claw above my wrist, plunged it deep . . .

file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruisw...%20Moonlover%20and%20the%20Fountain%20of%20Blood.txt (4 of 14)23-2-2006 22:33:07
 file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswijk/Mijn%20d...0Fancher%20-%20Moonlover%20and%20the%20Fountain%20of%20Blood.txt

But there was no blood.
Frantically, I tried again.
"That won't work." Mother's voice, and Mother herself, perched on the side of the pool.
"What. . ." My voice was little more than a hiss. "What, then, can I do?"
"Tend them. Love them."
"The soil has no life. Without the lifeblood, the water is impotent. Your truth, Mother, not mine."
"Leave, then. Find Love. Assume your true form and return to feed the Fountain."
"And in the meantime, the garden dies."