Kitabı oku: «Rhianon-5. Along the Way of Deception», sayfa 2
Rhianon shuddered. She saw before her an unburned face, pure and beautiful, with arcs of golden eyebrows and lips like roses’ petals. The perfect strong body, too, was white, not black with ash. The golden wings behind it, on the other hand, seemed to be beginning to darken. Rhianon blinked a few times to check it out. No, she didn’t think so. Madael himself was still as bright as the dawn, but his wings… They had grown noticeably darker.
Involuntarily, Rhianon was frightened. Something had gone wrong. Something inevitable and irreversible was happening. She felt it with every fiber of her being and it made her afraid. There was nothing she could do.
«So you take it back?» She didn’t know where she got the nerve to argue with him again.
Madael was taken aback for a moment. He looked at her and didn’t know what to say. Maybe he just didn’t want to give her a definite answer.
«You don’t care what I want, just what you want.»
«It is not true,» his whisper sounded a little strained, and she continued to press on.
«It’s just like when we were in heaven. You felt forged, so you rebelled. And now you want to shackle me.»
«Not shackle you, but love you,» the thin, angelic fingers traced her cheek gently. He wanted to be reconciled already, but Rhianon only shook her head.
«Love is no substitute for freedom.»
«Maybe…» His lips were very close, cool and fragrant, and to touch them was like touching a mountain stream. No flame would burst from them.
«It is for you, not for me. Naturally you feel free to captivate someone else. That’s what you and all your hordes are for, to captivate the imagination of those unfortunate mortals that the lord God is angry at. Perhaps you yourself do not realize how blindly you do his will.»
His whisper turned fiery for a moment, though. «You know me.»
«No, I don’t know you. I thought you could keep your word. I thought you belonged to me, not the other way around.»
«What do you want?»
Now it was her turn to say nothing. Rhianon was already regretting the quarrel. Walk away right now, and spend all eternity wandering the world looking for a way back to the magic realm? Was that what she wanted?
She was about to change her mind, but Madael’s last furious words changed everything.
«You will never leave. I won’t allow it.»
Now he was really angry. His words were not an empty threat. Rhianon could see that he was angry and perhaps struggling to keep himself from destroying everything here. From the way he clenched his fists tightly, the gold plates of his armor dug into his flesh. He didn’t even seem to notice the pain. His wings fluttered behind him so that the wind alone could have brought down things in the room. He was beautiful in his anger, of course, but his beauty would hardly make the fate of those he went to kill any less enviable. As he moved toward the exit, Rhianon guessed that he would be out there all night, tearing and thrashing until he calmed down. It would be bad enough for humans and dark vassals alike. For the first time, Rhianon felt pity for neither of them. She felt pity for herself first. She wanted some understanding, not empty tantrums. What difference did it make that Madael went to destroy someone else’s armies and torment his own subjects, as long as he wasn’t destroying Loretta’s armies. He could have done her bidding long ago instead of needlessly venting his anger on just anyone.
Rhianon scowled like a hurt child and buried her face in the polar bear’s soft hide. The two large emeralds embedded in its empty eye sockets no longer stalked her, and the soft fur was soothing. She was so oblivious that she didn’t even notice the silvery haze that swirled above her.
«Wasn’t it time to go back to the tower, to visit the spirits?»
She wasn’t the least bit surprised by the voice that broke through her reverie.
«I don’t want to travel anymore,» she protested.
«How easily you give up.»
«I don’t give up, I just compromise. Besides, I need some rest.»
She hoped he’d understand her forceful tone and not be so obtrusive, but the spirit kept up.
«You do want someone to comfort you, don’t you?»
«But it is not with you.»
«And I am offering you the company of others. It is from the beginning. Remember?»
She wondered. Indeed, why did he keep calling her to them? He had only appeared to take her to a place he couldn’t enter himself.
«What do you want?» She asked directly, as if he would answer honestly.
«I want to serve you because you are the most beautiful girl in the world.»
«I don’t believe you.»
«If you don’t believe you’re the prettiest,» he pretended not to understand her, «then take the mirror and see for yourself. It won’t deceive you. It has no more reason to lie than I do.»
Rhianon looked involuntarily at the cracked mirror. She did not care to look in it, so she only shook her head in disapproval.
«Leave me alone.»
«Leave you alone when you’re about to cry.
Rhianon put her fingers to her cheeks. Really soon tears would run down them, salty and searing like turpentine. They might burn her skin if she didn’t handle them. If Orpheus were here he would make her laugh.
She rose and sat up in bed. The gleaming smoke still hovered above her.
«You can’t replace the company of those I like,» she said with a touch of reproach.»
«But I can be useful to you,» he moved closer, almost to her. «I really can.»
«You don’t know what I want.»
«So tell me.»
She just laughed.
«How you try to simplify things, and they are so complicated.»
«I know, but it will get easier if you believe me.»
She didn’t believe him, and she didn’t want to, but there was no one else around. Even the harpy, who had been on her heels the whole time, had disappeared this time. Rhianon sat staring at the smoke billowing over the floor. It gleamed so beautifully, but it was cold. If it had been material, it would surely have felt as prickly to the touch as golden sand.
She stared at it long enough, and then she suddenly really wanted to go to the tower. Could he have instilled that in her? Or maybe she had a need for companionship. The five spirits were always courting her. Sometimes it was even pleasant to be with them. Now that she was alone, she needed to unwind. Let Madael tear up the world below if he so desired, and here in the sinister underworld she could discover her own corner of pleasure and sorcery. She was drawn to the spirits as strongly as if they were standing beside her and calling to her.
«All right,» she stood up, brushed her fingers through her tangled locks, and then moved toward the exit, trying not to watch the emeralds in the bears’ eyes flash and fade behind her. It was as if they were signaling her to stay. Otherwise something terrible would happen, her emerald gleam warned her, but she paid no attention. It was just a few minutes and she was already in the tower with the spirits. This time it was unaccustomedly quiet around her, no laughter, no jokes, no promises. Each spirit sat in its own niche, gleaming in the darkness with multicolored sparks that surrounded each vague figure. Rhianon stopped in the center. She had to turn her head to look at each in turn. The tense silence made her tired.
«Well?» She glanced at the spirit whose fuzzy silhouette had ruby sparks danced across it. «Is there anything else you want to offer me?»
«Not much,» the orange spirit replied.
«Is it a new country? Or is it a place of interest?»
Several of the ghostly voices nodded in agreement. Rhianon sensed a slight movement in the air, as if she thought she heard a breeze inside the tower.
«Look!» A hand of smoke and gold flecks deftly wrapped around her wrist and forced her to place her fingers against the partition above the alcove. «What do you see? What do you feel?»
The smoke was no longer enveloping her, and Rhianon kept running her fingers along the wall. She could feel the cold stones, but she could see nothing. There wasn’t even a spider’s web that had insects with human limbs crawling all over it. Elsewhere in the castle there was such a web, it stretched in golden lace around the corners or the ceiling and looked quite beautiful, but the strange parasites stuck in it could frighten anyone. Here, on the other hand, there was no slime, no mud, no spider nets, not a crack in the stones, but they seemed damp for some reason. Rhianon did not immediately manage to fumble for something that looked like a bas-relief.
«Is it a symbol or a coat of arms?» She frowned, tracing a fancy monogram with her finger. She could see well into the darkness, but she couldn’t make it out clearly. She had to study it by touch. It was quite elaborate, covered in delicate curls, and the carving was deeply embedded in the wall. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed it at once.
«What is it?» Rhianon asked, but the spirits were stubbornly silent. Did they want her to guess for herself? Rhianon shook her head. They were so stubborn. They could have easily explained it to her, but they didn’t hurry. Maybe it was the oppressive silence that was causing her to have strange visions. She heard screams, the way only children can scream, shrill and hoarse, as if their cervical vertebrae had been broken, and she saw blood. Someone was twisting the head of a black hen and dipping a dagger in its blood to carve a magic wand out of the alder tree with it. Someone is summoning spirits. She recognized Hildegard’s hands carving something whimsical out of wood. And then it was the turn of incomparably ancient visions. People dancing in a ring lined with demons, Madael’s servants dragging blocks and laying them in a circle, and then watching from above as sacrifices were offered on the altars. It was human sacrifices.
Rhianon swallowed hard. They want to flatter their lord with these sacrifices. Stonehenge, as it would later be called, the place where he first appeared in the midst of the ritual, simply emerged from a halo of fire, her warrior-lover, fresh from battle, bloodied sword in hand and helmetless. Even those who had conjured and offered sacrifices to him on the altars, seeing him without his helmet, went blind. But she herself, instead of going blind with the appearance of Madael in her life, on the contrary, began to see well in the dark. Maybe it’s because fire is her element. She herself is made of fire. And a fallen angel in fire cannot be a stranger to her. Still, Rhianon was scared. Those rituals were terrible. They meant nothing to Madael, he took the pain of others for granted, because he thought that no one would ever go through the same pain as he himself after the fall. The horror, suffering, and stupid self-sacrifice of mortals became something he took for granted. He despised people, but he accepted their sacrifices. He was indifferent to his own army as well, but condescended to let them herd a bloody temple for him. Every block of his unfinished chapel is stained with blood. We must ask him to forbid his demons to continue dragging the blocks. That temple must never be finished. No way.
To think how much inanimate stones can tell us. Rhianon kept running her hand over them, and the wall seemed to vibrate and come alive under her touch. The surface was no longer cold; on the contrary, it began to seem fiery.
«It’s a letter,» Rhianon realized at last. Beneath the swirls and monograms she could see the familiar shape of a letter. «It is the letter «A.»
«Well done, you guessed it,» the emerald-colored spirit pretended to clap his hands, but the clapping wasn’t even louder than the echo. «Now keep watching.»
Rhianon moved on to the next partition and fumbled for a similar symbol. She no longer had to run her fingers over it as long to figure it out.
«It is the letter «D.»
She didn’t know what it was, but the spirits were nudging her toward something. There was a vague sense of panic, merriment, even excitement in the tower now. Everything stirred. They were expecting her to do something. She felt as if a storm was about to break out of the autumn leaves flying at her.
«Keep watching,» someone commanded.
Rhianon obeyed. She found the next symbol.
«B,» she said aloud, and frowned. It was an Earth alphabet, or so she thought, but in fact she found some unknown symbols and interpreted them in a way that was close to human perception. It could have happened to her, after all. Living with Madael, she learned to understand the language of angels, but to perceive it as human speech. Now she thought she encountered familiar letters, but really they were forbidden and dangerous symbols that meant something terrible.
«Farther, farther…» they urged her on.
In the next two partitions she discovered two more letters, «E» and «N.» What could this mean? There were five spirits and five letters. As many ghosts fill the hall, so many symbols are in it. Rhianon tried to draw a parallel, but she had little success.
«They’re the first letters of your names,» she surmised.
For a moment the air in the hall was heavy with laughter, low as the wall, more like the rustle of a leaf whirling against the wall, but more affecting to her than deafening laughter.
«What’s the matter? Are you trying to play a trick on me?»
«Not at all, most beautiful, not at all,» the spirits flew from their seats and touched her shoulders and hands and face affectionately – all as they had the first time and yet in a very different way.
«What do you want from me?» Their caressing touches this time felt slippery and clammy, like the embrace of a grave full of worms. It was as if the worms were sliding across her skin, not her hands. If one day she died and ended up in the ground, the grave bugs would caress her the same way.
«It is just a little, divine beauty,» the golden spirit whispered in her ear, and the others echoed.
«It is just a little.»
Rhianon wanted to put her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear them. It sounded like a funeral choir. It was as if the spirits were performing a requiem for her. She is a princess and she is about to die, to be walled up here, and the spirits will begin to circle around her burial place. And so it might have been, had it not been for the spark of fire inside her that they feared.
«It’s true already inside you,» the reddish spirit whispered, the ruby sparks flashing beautifully on her transparent body, it seemed magnificent, like a whole treasure trove of scarlet gems. His glowing hand slid gently around her waist, as if seeking to penetrate her corset and press against her skin.
«There’s fire inside me,» she whispered, as if she were confiding in them a deep secret.
«And what fire is it,» the greenish spirit confirmed. «It is a creature of fire. It is a great creature. So magnificent, it would be impossible to believe your eyes. No mortal would believe it, no immortal either. You have no idea how much pain and suffering he would bring to humans and demons alike.»
«Is it he?» Rhianon looked from one spirit to the next perplexed, but they all seemed to be talking to each other. No one was quick to offer an explanation.
«He’ll be magnificent,» the spirits whispered, breathless and delighted. «He couldn’t be more wonderful, but his character leaves a lot to be desired…»
«What can you do, the blood of the fallen archangel, his fire, his vengeance…» The golden-haired spirit took his place in the niche, but he seemed to sit on the throne, his posture defiant and majestic, and he himself seemed to become clearer. «It is the fire of the fall, the beauty of the dawn, the sizzling effect of the sun, and with it is your grace, my dear princess. It is all in him. And with so many qualities he manages to drive everyone mad, mortals and immortals alike, and even the incorporeal. It seems he will also be unlovable. Can you imagine what it’s like to cause obsessive passion in others and never fall in love himself? I swear he’ll end up getting the whole world cut off because of him, and we’ll have no one to take revenge on. He will unknowingly do everything for us. It is by the power of his charm alone.»
«Why does he need fire at all,» the green spirit wondered. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his back against the wall so that he could almost disappear into it. «If he’s beautiful as gold, he doesn’t need power. I’d rather give him moderation, so he’ll never know ruinous emotions. Let him burn people himself, and remain cold.»
«Fire is necessary,» the orange spirit protested immediately, still hovering above the hall and resembling a disk of the sun itself. «He is a creature of fire. And fire has great power. He would never need anyone’s help. He can burn anyone and anything he doesn’t like.»
«And he’ll have blue eyes, just like you,» the bluish spirit said, turning to Rhianon. «To think, two fiery creatures merged to produce a creature with blue eyes and lilac skin.»
«He is gentle as a girl and strong as the elements,» the fifth spirit chimed in, flashing his eyes slyly. «Or is he the offspring of an angel? You don’t call your lover an incubus. You sleep in the arms of a fallen archangel, and you are as warm as in the bosom of a god. Will you love someone who is like your deity? He himself will be divine, but he will no longer be a warrior with a sword, but a refined cavalier… graceful, statuesque, well-mannered and yet powerful. He will break hearts at the same speed as your friend Hildegard breaks crystal glasses. How beautiful he will be…»
«And there will be a dragon inside him,» the golden spirit said triumphantly, and somehow his words seemed scary to her. She was not afraid of dragons, they were all part of the great army that had fallen from heaven, and they all served her lover. Only this time it was not just a dragon, but something incommensurably more terrifying.
«They are terror, power, fire, majesty, a throne.» The golden spirit’s golden eyebrows arched. «All this is inseparable. They are all the best qualities of the world in one golden being. We are all ready to become his protectors. You will receive us, as in the mortal world you receive your godparents. We can all unite to protect him. We would be honored. Wouldn’t you agree?»
«Do I agree? If I had any idea what you’re talking about?» Rhianon looked around, trying to catch the facial expressions of each spirit. «Who are you talking about?»
«It is the child,» the golden spirit said indifferently, as if she should know all that by now.
«Is is a child?» She remembered Eve for some reason, his blond hair, his unearthly beauty, and his frail, broken body, which had become incredibly strong after the torture. He was sitting on the arrow of the devil’s watch, looking up at her from below. His bloodied lips opened for a moment only to utter the single word «mother». He wanted to call her his mother, Rhianon only now realized, and shuddered, but the spirit hastened to dissuade her.
«It is about your child,» he said. «About what’s already inside you. Can’t you feel it?»
That’s where all those fiery explosions came from inside her. Rhianon put her hands to her lips.
«No,» she recoiled from the golden spirit so quickly that she nearly collided with the ones grating behind her, they passed through her like colored sparks, leaving a slight tingling sensation throughout her body.
«Yes,» the golden spirit jerked forward. «Or did you think you could only be carried by the swept ones?»
He was clearly mocking her. He knew it was impossible, he knew it himself. Rhianon broke into tears.
«It couldn’t be. It couldn’t, that’s all. Madael is not human.»
«And you are not,» the spirit nodded eagerly, shaking his weightless head like a lump of golden sand. «And the child inside you is not mortal. It is a catastrophe, the fruit of the union of two spirits, something that was not meant to be and that will become untold.»
«I don’t want that,» she backed away until she was against the wall, as if that were a way to escape her destiny.
«So what does it matter what you want? You should have thought about desire before you shared a bed with a fallen angel. You wanted him, just as others want a throne and piles of gold. So you get it all together. «You get wealth and power and the child of Dennitsa inside you. He burns you already, worse than any fire.»
Rhianon squinted at the golden spirit. She could feel it glowing intensely now.
«Can I get rid of it?»
«No, you can’t. Even if you kill yourself, he will go on living. He already is.»
How indifferent it all sounded. She felt trapped. There was no escaping it. It was inside her. Rhianon panicked. What if she really did die, producing such a creature? Is there a way to destroy it before it is born? She knew that there were tinctures and herbal potions to help induce a miscarriage. Any herbalist would be able to make them. Especially if she asked Madael for such a potion, he could get it for her. And what if he doesn’t want to destroy this child? What if that’s what he wanted? Did he fly over the worlds and seek out his mistress just to conceive? He wanted a son, a descendant, an heir, someone who would train with him to lead his dark army, grow by leaps and bounds and become an even more deadly creature than his father? He wanted to have such a toy, but he did not know how to acquire one. Mortal girls did not appeal to him, and so he found one that had fire inside her. She could be coveted, but not for long and for one specific purpose only.
If she died in childbirth, it would only benefit him. He would be alone with a creature who had no right to be born and who would probably be unusually strong. No one else will go after him and woo him. And if she even survives, he can send her to Loretta and keep the baby. Will she then be happy in her newfound kingdom, but with no hope of returning back to the magical world. Or would she, like any human exiled from the realm of fairies, be haunted by madness.
«This child is a mistake,» the spirit continued to whisper softly, hovering beside her. «It is a fatal mistake for all of us.»
«Is it a mistake for his father?»
«Well, you can protect him from his father.»
«How is it?» She lifted her weary eyes to the golden-haired spirit. She wanted to take what he needed from Madael. But how is it?»
«Give him a name.»
«What do you mean?»
The spirit nodded quickly at the walls.
«Put the letters together and it’s a name.»
She laughed tiredly.
«I’m serious,» said the spirit. «If you put all the letters together and call it that, we will all protect it. All together we are strength, separately we are not, but the five of us can handle anything. Unite us and we won’t let the father touch this baby. Our strength is a gift to the newborn. We will hide it from the one who conceived it.»
«And what favor do you expect from me?»
He nodded again at the wall. Rhianon reluctantly moved forward and again fumbled with the letters, one by one. They seemed to burn with fire. Five letters, one name. She didn’t even have to arrange them in any particular order; she just put them all together at random, from first to last.
«Edwin,» she said. She didn’t think it would be so easy to put unusual symbols together into one sound. Demon signs are a name for an unborn child, a name that in and of itself can be devastating. «Let it be Edwin. I like the sound of that.»
The spirits fell silent. They encircled her in a tight ring and at the same time seemed so intangible. Multicolored sparks fluttered before her like a rainbow, like a circle of autumn leaves. It was as if her five suitors had ceased to exist, and yet each rushed to touch her, to merge with her living body in a final embrace. They were all ethereal, but she could feel them.
«Where do you want to go this time, Princess?» The golden spirit whispered to her.
She knew it was the last question. They would never ask her again. They would simply be gone.
«I don’t know,» she said simply.
«There is one country that would have no difficulty, even without allies, in standing up to Loretta. Would you like to see its king?»
She only nodded. The pendant between her fingers warmed slightly, taking the shape of a crown. The next moment she was standing in a lavishly furnished room. It was night outside the windows. The curtains, woven with heralded insignia, fluttered gently. From behind the curtains of the closed doors voices echoed. Rhianon stepped silently on the tufted carpet. She was not alone here. Surprisingly the golden-haired spirit was beside her.
«Look,» he said, pointing to a table piled high with scrolls and charters.
Rhianon glanced at the velvet pad and the delightful crown, at the sharpened feathers and wax seals. The young man sitting at the table, parsing the papers, was surprisingly handsome and youthful. She suddenly felt the urge to go closer and flick the blond locks from his clean forehead. What a kind face he had, and what a pleasant one. She would never have imagined that such a handsome court dandy could be sympathetic and understanding. One glance at him was enough to know that he would be very pleasant to talk to. There was no evil in him at all, no dark vibe inherent in both demons and selfish mortals. Beautiful long lashes cast a shadow over his cheeks, ashy eyebrows frowned. He was tired, some edge of consciousness he was already in the realm of dreams but he had a lot more to do today. There was no sleeping, he kept telling himself. Rhianon caught his thoughts. She wonder who he is, a poor nobleman forced to serve as secretary, a member of the royal council, an archivist… he is so young, after all.
«You promised to show me the king, not this boy,» she reproached the spirit in a whisper. With the ruler she could negotiate, but not with the child. What could he do for her? The spirit had set her up with the wrong kind of meeting that could come to important negotiations. Here she would rather have a rendezvous.
«I would like to see the king,» she was sorry to leave the man who had grudgingly aroused such sympathy in her, but business comes first.
«It is the king,» the spirit leaned in beside her, the golden smoke almost penetrating her ear.
«Is this boy a king?» She stared in disbelief at the clean face and the long blond locks scattered across his collar.
«He’s not a boy anymore. Not looking at his innocent face, not even Manfred had to work as hard for his place upon the throne as this boy. But now his position is secure and his armies are extremely strong. You’ve got half the world in your hands by bargaining with him. I brought you to Vinor, one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world.»
«It was more as if you had brought me into the realm of dreams,» Rhianon moved forward. The young man never took his head away from the table, nor did he hear her movements. He looked up as she moved closer to him, touching his cheek with her hand. They were bright blue, tinted with wheat-colored lashes and the same light arcs of eyebrows. It was such a simple face and so beautiful. The mere sight of him reminded her of summer, of rye in the fields and the warmth of the sun. Rhianon smiled at him as if she had met an old friend. He dropped his quill in surprise. Was it just her imagination, or was he fascinated? Or was it the sight of the golden spirit nestled against her shoulder that confused him? Even before she could ask him about it, Rhianon heard footsteps and loud shouts outside the door. «Your Majesty.» Someone repeated it several times and asked permission to enter. The young man took his time answering. He still looked at Rhianon in silence, his lips slightly parted in astonishment. What could be done here? Rhianon turned toward the door. The door was knocked on desperately.
«Back,» she commanded mentally, and despite her spirit’s protests, they left the palace. She wanted to continue among the draperies with coats of arms, books and fine furniture, in silence and solitude, beside the handsome blue-eyed young man, but she was afraid of the unexpected arrival of the crowd and of being mistaken for a ghost. Of course, the young king could stand up for her and let her know that she was his new favorite, but Rhianon was afraid of embarrassing both him and herself. What if yelling «witch» made her angry and burn the palace down. She would not have wanted that.
«You missed your chance,» the spirit hissed resentfully.
«I don’t think so.»
She was still clutching the pendant tensely. It had become almost red-hot in her hand. Did it mean she was destined for the crown? Rhianon grinned. What a thought that would have been. She did not dream of another’s kingdom, only her own, but the handsome young man was never far from her mind. His eyes were full of wonder and admiration when he looked up and saw her. Well, he’d dozed over his papers and the beautiful woman who’d appeared out of nowhere in his apartment might well have been the fruit of a dream. Besides, if he told anyone that something golden and unimaginable lurked behind that beauty, who would believe him. He has so many important affairs of state, and he gets so tired of dealing with them all personally, it’s no wonder he starts seeing strange things.
«I remember you promised to take me through the realm of dreams,» she reminded the still-present spirit. They were home again, not in the tower, but in the ramified corridors of the castle. Hearing a straining wheezing ahead, Rhianon quickly hid in an alcove. She waited for the creepy sculptor to crawl past before climbing out. She wanted to visit the clock tower again, which she did. The clock worked smoothly as one organism. There were no dwarves in sight, and Rhianon ventured around the enclosure and peered inside the mechanisms. It was a whole forest, a world of branching tracks and intricate counterweights. She bent down a little and ducked inside. She had to duck to get under the girders and hold the train with her hand so it wouldn’t accidentally get caught in the spinning gears. It was dark and dangerous, but she pushed forward. What did she expect to find? Is it him? It must have really taken a terrifying dream to meet him, and all around her was a terrifying reality. And it was like a horrible dream, too. Rhianon spotted a dwarf ahead in the thick of the beams and counterweights bent over his work. Cautiously she approached him. He was not dressed like the others. His apricot-colored coat sat unfortunate on his short, pudgy body. A cap of the same color almost fell off his head. Clumsy hands fiddled with nails stained with something thick and scarlet.
