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. I m hoping Keir s teachings will help meclose it up, fill it in again.Don t say anything.I don t want anyone else toknow. I won t mention it, she said, sincerely.She shook her head. Weird. Tell me about it, he said as Bergold arrived at their side. What in all Nightmares happened here? the Historian asked.His wing collarhad sprung loose on one side. I got mugged, Chuck said. If Persemid hadn t come along and foiled them, Icould have been badly hurt.Thank you, he told her, sincerely. Don t mention it, Persemid said.The little Historian turned to stare at the sixteen-ton weight.Incredibly,almost all Chuck s attackers were trapped underneath it, flopping like a freshPage 149ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlcatch of fish. Great night! The others came running up behind him. What happened? demanded Keir. He was set upon by footpads, said Bergold. You poor boy! Blanda exclaimed.She started rummaging in her evening bag.More tramping noises came towards them out of the night.Soon, the prisonersunder the weight were surrounded by very flat brogues and shoes with crepesoles who made chalk outlines of footprints all around the place where Chuckhad been lying. Everything is under control now, Keir said. The gumshoes are on it.Chuck felt as though he was a mass of bruises.When he stood up to examinehimself under the streetlamp, his fancy suit had footprints all over it. It sa good thing this body isn t real, he said, trying to keep it light for thecircle of worried faces around him. I d never get my deposit back on it.Are you all right? Hiramus asked, unusually solicitous. Yes, I m fine, Chuck said. Sore, but intact. Thank the Sleepers, Hiramus said. Let s get you back to the train and seeif the conductor can find you a hot bath.Chuck groaned as his muscles protested moving. That would be great. Here! Blanda said, drawing a huge jar from her handbag. I knew I had somechicken soup.We ll just heat it up for you.Chuck was grateful for her kindness.The night didn t seem so sinister anymore, but he was glad to have a large group around him as they returned to thetrain.As soon as he mounted the steps of the car, he felt safe.Chapter 25 Not another museum! Chuck protested.He had retained no physical ill-effectsfrom his misadventure of the previous night, but since then had been keepingan eye on his surroundings like never before.Thanks to Blanda s chicken soup, a hot bath and a great deal of fussing overby his fellow passengers, Chuck had managed to get a good night's sleep.Theleftover soup had been stretched easily into a down comforter into which he dcurled like a caterpillar in its cocoon.Back out in the world, he feltexposed and vulnerable.The sensation that people might jump out at him at anymoment was interfering with his ability to relax while they toured the city ofEphemer.And, because he was expecting it, they did.Museums were good places forsinister things.Every time he turned around, something seemed to be springingout, but only guides who offered to explain the exhibits, or small childrenrunning away from their embarrassed parents.Chuck s nerves were half shot,and it was only midmorning.There seemed to be thousands of museums in this very busy town.Most of themwere dusty holes in the wall, some with only one artifact on display, often anobject he couldn t identify.The labels were nearly always in a foreignlanguage, too faint to read, or missing altogether.He enjoyed the littlemuseums more than the sprawling, city-sized ones Keir sometimes led them intowhere every last darned thing was a relic.The first giant mega-museum was the worst.In the vast, yellow-painted halls,Chuck was overwhelmed by atmosphere, and became unable to keep his bearings.He knew if he lost sight of Keir he might never find him again in the crowd.The little party was surrounded by groups of eager children, none of whomspoke the same language, with notebooks and pencils; and pairs of adults, oneof whom was reading raptly from guidebooks while the other mooched aroundlooking as though he would rather be elsewhere.Every time Chuck caught aglimpse of a case that looked interesting to him, the way was blocked by adense mass of people.In fact, the more who blocked the way, the moreinteresting he was convinced the item was.By the time he waited his turn tosee, he was almost always wrong.Keir hustled them in and out of mansion-sized buildings that lined Ephemer sPage 150ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlgrand boulevard.The next one was an art museum.Chuck felt at home the momentthey stepped in the door.One of his aunts was an artist.When he was a boy,she used to let him make a mess with her paints while she worked.Hmm, another memory.Chuck clutched it to him like a teddy bear.He wasputting together more of apicture of himself, but so much was still missing.How old was he? Where didhe live? What did he do?Chuck liked the mood paintings, which changed their subject depending on whowas looking at them.His were colored blue with worry.He felt bad about thatuntil he saw Morit go by the same display.Every canvas turned black.Wow, Chuck thought, with sympathy.I wouldn t want to be inside his head. They are working together now, Morit grumbled to himself, as he stalkedthrough the exhibit halls without seeing a thing but the floor.His plan toconcentrate on the Visitors one at a time had hit a serious drawback.PersemidSmith had turned aside the attack on Chuck Meadows singlehandedly!The focus must expand to include the other Visitors, but her especially.Hecouldn t explain why he disliked her so much.She was a Visitor, he thought,furiously.That was more than enough reason.Morit was frustrated.This last failure was worse than the previous onesbecause all the conspirators involved had been taken into custody by theauthorities.He knew none of them would ever flap their tongues, but it was asetback.Every Dreamlander who did not participate in the conspiracy made themthat much weaker.Morit knew the conspirators must make a more concertedeffort, something better.He still did not want to go as far as their fail-safe plan, but would if hehad to.A museum docent stood up from her chair by the door and approached him to handhim a leaflet.He held up his hand to forestall the young woman, but she looked at himintensely and thrust the paper at him. What is it, my dear? Blanda asked, while he scanned it. Just a flyer for a special exhibition, he told her.He crumpled the letterfrom his comrades and put it in his pocket.This was the quietest place that they had yet visited.Feeling like a childwalking through a haunted house, Chuck crept along a darkened corridor whosedimensions he couldn t guess.It was lit only by quivering white lights theshape of cartoon ghosts.He was only able to tell he had come out into alarger room by the way his footsteps and breathing sounded.It wasdelightfully spooky.White lights sprang up near his feet.He discovered himself in the center of ahuge, twelve-sided room.Shadows were thrown up on the wall [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]