tg.stone of tears-第18部分

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　For　the　first　time　since　she　became　a　Sister；　she　felt　small　and　ignorant。　‘Nathan；　that　will　be　quite　enough。’
　
　‘Idiots；’　he　hissed。
　
　He　lurched　toward　her　so　quickly　it　frightened　her。　Before　she　knew　it；　she　had　released　a　bolt　of　power。　It　dropped　him　to　his　knees。　He　clutched　at　his　chest　as　he　gasped。　Margaret　recalled　her　power　almost　instantly；　sorry　she　had　reacted　in　this　manner：　out　of　fear。
　
　‘I　apologize；　Nathan。　You　frightened　me。　Are　you　all　right？’
　
　He　grasped　the　chair　back；　drawing　himself　up　into　it　as　he　gasped。　He　nodded。　She　sat　still；　ill　at　ease；　waiting　for　him　to　recover。
　
　A　grim　smile　spread　on　his　lips。　‘Frightened　you；　did　I？　Would　you　like　to　be　really　frightened？　Would　you　like　me　to　show　you　a　prophecy？　Not　tell　you　the　words；　but　show　it　to　you？　Show　it　to　you　the　way　it　was　meant　to　be　passed　on？　I　have　never　shown　a　Sister　before。　You　all　study　them　and　think　you　can　decipher　their　meaning　from　the　words；　but　you　don’t　understand。　That　is　not　the　true　way　they　work。’
　
　She　leaned　forward。　‘What　do　you　mean　that　is　not　the　way　they　work？　They　are　meant　to　foretell；　and　that　is　what　they　do。’
　
　He　shook　his　head。　‘Only　partly。　They　are　passed　on　by　ones　with　the　gift；　ones　like　me：　prophets。　They　are　intended　to　be　read　and　understood　through　the　gift；　by　ones　with　the　gift；　ones　like　me；　not　to　be　picked　over　by　the　likes　of　your　power。’
　
　As　he　straightened　himself；　pulling　the　aura　of　authority　around　himself　again；　she　studied　his　face。　She　had　never　heard　of　such　a　thing。　She　wasn’t　sure　if　he　was　telling　the　truth；　or　just　talking　out　of　anger。　But　if　it　was　the　truth　。。。
　
　‘Nathan；　anything　you　could　tell　me；　or　show　me；　would　be　a　great　help。　We　are　all　struggling　on　the　side　of　the　Creator。　His　cause　must　prevail。　The　forces　of　the　Nameless　One　struggle　always　to　silence　us。　Yes；　I　would　like　you　to　show　me　a　prophecy　the　way　it　is　meant　to　be　passed　on。　if　you　can。’
　
　He　drew　himself　up；　peering　at　her　with　burning　intensity。　At　last　he　spoke　softly。　‘Very　well；　Sister　Margaret。’　He　leaned　toward　her；　his　expression　so　grave　it　nearly　took　her　breath　away。
　
　‘Look　into　my　eyes；’　he　whispered。　‘Lose　yourself　in　my　eyes。’
　
　His　gaze　drew　her　in；　the　deep；　azure　color　spreading　in　her　vision　until　it　seemed　she　was　looking　up　into　the　clear　sky。　She　felt　as　if　he　were　drawing　every　breath　for　her。
　
　‘I　will　tell　you　the　prophecy　of　the　true　fork　again；　but　this　time；　I　will　show　it　to　you　as　it　is　meant　to　be。’　She　floated　as　she　listened。　‘Of　all　there　were；　but　a　single　one　born　of　the　magic　to　bring　forth　truth　will　remain　alive　。。。’
　
　The　words　melted　away；　and　instead；　she　saw　the　prophecy　as　if　seeing　a　vision。　She　was　pulled　into　it。　She　was　no　longer　in　the　palace；　but　in　the　vision　itself。
　
　She　saw　a　beautiful　woman　with　long　hair；　dressed　in　a　satiny　white　dress：　the　Mother　Confessor。　Margaret　saw　the　other　Confessors　being　killed　by　quads　sent　from　D’Hara　and　she　felt　the　blinding　horror　of　it。　She　saw　the　woman’s　best　friend　and　sister　confessor　die　in　her　arms。　She　felt　the　grief　of　the　Mother　Confessor。
　
　Then；　Margaret　saw　the　Mother　Confessor　before　the　one　from　D’Hara　who　had　sent　the　quads　to　kill　the　other　Confessors。　The　handsome　man　in　white　stood　before　three　boxes。　To　Margaret’s　surprise；　each　box　cast　a　different　number　of　shadows。　The　man　in　white　robes　performed　rituals；　cast　evil　spells；　underworld　spells；　late　into　the　night；　through　the　night；　until　the　sun　rose。　As　the　day　brightened；　somehow　Margaret　knew　that　it　was　this　day。　She　was　seeing　what　had　happened　this　very　day。
　
　The　man　in　white　had　finished　with　the　preparations。　He　stood　before　the　boxes。　Smiling；　he　reached　out　and　opened　the　one　in　the　center；　the　one　that　cast　two　shadows。　Light　from　within　the　box　bathed　him　in　its　brilliance　at　first；　but　then　in　a　flash　of　power；　the　magic　of　the　box　swirled　about　him　and　snuffed　out　his　life。　He　had　chosen　wrong；　he　forfeited　his　life　to　the　magic　he　sought　to　claim。
　
　She　saw　the　Mother　Confessor　with　a　man。　A　man　she　loved。　She　felt　her　happiness。　It　was　a　joy　the　woman　had　never　experienced　before。　Margaret’s　heart　swelled　with　the　bliss　the　Mother　Confessor　felt　at　the　side　of　this　man。　It　was　a　vision　of　what　was　happening　at　this　very　moment。
　
　And　then　Margaret’s　mind　swept　forward　in　a　swirl。　She　saw　war　and　death　sweep　across　the　land。　She　saw　death　brought　by　the　Keeper　of　the　underworld；　to　the　world　of　the　living　with　a　wicked　lust　that　choked　her　with　terror。
　
　Again　the　prophecy　swept　her　forward　to　a　great　crowd。　At　the　center　was　the　Mother　Confessor；　standing　on　a　heavy　platform。　The　people　were　excited　and　in　a　celebratory　mood。
　
　This　was　the　joyous　event　that　would　bring　the　fork　of　the　prophecy；　one　of　the　forks　that　must　be　passed　correctly　to　save　the　world　from　the　darkness　snatching　at　it。　She　was　caught　up　in　the　festive　mood　of　the　crowd。　She　felt　a　tingle　of　expectant　hope；　wondering　if　the　man　the　Mother　Confessor　loved　was　to　be　the　one　she　was　to　wed；　and　if　that　was　the　happy　event　the　Prophecy　spoke　of　that　would　bring　joy　to　the　people。　Her　heart　ached　for　it　to　be　so。
　
　But　something　wasn’t　right。　Margaret’s　warm　delight　cooled　until　her　flesh　prickled　with　icy　bumps。
　
　With　a　wave　of　worry；　Margaret　saw　that　the　Mother　Confessor’s　hands　were　bound；　and　next　to　her　stood　a　man；　not　the　man　she　loved；　but　a　man　in　a　black　hood。　He　held　a　great　axe。　Margaret’s　worry　turned　to　horror。
　
　A　hand　forced　the　Mother　Confessor　to　kneel；　seized　her　hair　and　laid　her　face　to　the　block。　Her　hair　was　short　now；　not　long　as　it　had　been　before；　but　it　was　the　same　woman。　Tears　seeped　from　the　Mother　Confessor’s　closed　eyes。　Her　white　dress　shimmered　in　the　bright　sunlight。　Margaret　couldn’t　breathe。
　
　The　great　crescent　axe　rose　into　the　air。　It　flashed　through　the　sunlight；　thunking　solidly　into　the　block。　Margaret　gasped。　The　Mother　Confessor’s　head　dropped　into　the　basket。　The　crowd　cheered。
　
　Blood　gushed　and　spread　down　the　dress　as　the　headless；　lifeless　corpse　collapsed　to　the　wooden　floor。　A　pool　of　bright　blood　spread　under　the　body；　turning　the　white　dress　red。　So　much　blood。　The　crowd　roared　with　elation。
　
　A　wail　of　horror　escaped　Margaret’s　throat。　She　thought　she　might　vomit。　Nathan　caught　her　as　she　fell　forward；　crying　and　sobbing。　He　held　her　to　him　as　a　father　would　a　frightened　child。
　
　‘Ah；　Nathan；　is　that　the　event　that　will　bring　joy　to　the　people？　Is　this　what　must　happen　if　the　world　of　the　living　is　to　be　saved？’
　
　‘It　is；’　he　said　softly。　Almost　every　prophecy　down　this　true　branch　is　a　fork。　If　the　world　of　the　living　is　to　be　saved　from　the　Keeper　of　the　underworld；　then　every　event　must　take　the　correct　branch。　In　this　prophecy；　the　people　must　rejoice　at　seeing　the　Mother　Confessor　die；　for　down　the　other　fork　lies　the　eternal　darkness　of　the　underworld。　I　don’t　know　why　it　is　so。’
　
　Margaret　sobbed　into　his　robes　as　his　strong　arms　held　her　tight　against　him。　‘Oh　dear　Creator；’　she　cried；　‘take　merc