Shadowrun - Novel - 18 - Worlds Without End.pdf

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Shadowrun Caroline Spector - Worlds Without End fifty is worn down by the wheels of a thousand rigs never dreamed of until five years ago. And the sweetmeats dance in nightclubs with rags on their backs sewn in sweatshops during the eighties. But that was just a momentary madness. A fad. A passing whimsy of fashion. The things I'd distract myself with at times like that. And here too were memories from a place and time out of mind. A place as unreal to this world as 17 Caroline Spector any trideo fantasy. What possessed me to recreate what I could remember? That time was done. Over. Dust. Right. Then why were there pictures painted by artists far greater than I, depicting places described by me? Why had I done it? Why had I asked Francisco Lucientes to recreate those nightmare visions? What madness had I unlocked from his mind? For surely he saw them—saw the demons. His painting leaned against the wall, face down. I reached out and turned it around. Curators from every museum of the world would kill to have this lost treasure. Could they have understood it came not from Goya's demented vision, but from mine? It showed a forest of such expanse that it fled from the viewer's sight back into a ghostly oblivion. Standing in the foreground were two people: a male and a female. She was human, slight of build with a curious face. He was an elf, tall and lithe with dark hair and a small goatee. Growing from his body were thorns. The skin was puckered where the thorns protruded from his flesh. They ran across his face and showed as stark points across the back of his hands. A thousand slashes rent his tunic, letting the thorns escape. I reached out and almost touched their faces with my fingertips. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as hot and warm on my face as the blood that once fed that great forest. Blood poured from the wounds of my people. 18 WORLDS WITHOUT END But that wasn't the worst of what had been in that time. My own complicity. Could such acts of evil ever be forgiven? Or forgotten? I tried to push these dark thoughts away. But the dream wouldn't let me go. Wouldn't let me forget. Página 6
Shadowrun Caroline Spector - Worlds Without End I'd let myself become distracted by worldly matters. I'd forgotten why I was here. I swallowed the last of the scotch. A pleasant heat had settled into my limbs. Perhaps now I would be able to sleep. With a simple gesture the illusionary wall was once more in place. I went upstairs. After closing the drapes, I settled under the quilts and comforters. But I couldn't bring myself to turn off the light. A childish notion, but it gave me some comfort. And small comfort was all I would have for a long time to come. 19 A vast forest stretches out before her. Green and lush. Beautiful and deadly. And there are secrets. Terrible secrets. She steps forward and feels that she is sinking into something. Looking down, she sees her foot being swallowed by a pool of blood. 3 Dreams, I thought, can't hurt you. The day was dreary and overcast. They usually were here. It was well past noon before I managed to pull myself from bed. Despite the scotch and leaving the light on, I didn't manage to sleep until after the sun rose. Normally, I would have downloaded the morning Times and printed it out while I made tea. But I felt restless and penned-in by the house. I threw on jeans, boots, and heavy sweater, then grabbed my leather jacket as I went outside. It was late October and already the wind was blowing colder from the north. It took me a few minutes to climb down to the beach. During the night it had rained and the path was muddy. I slipped a little as I ran down it. The sharp tang of the air cleared my mind. Dreams, only dreams. 20 WORLDS WITHOUT END But I suspected they weren't. I'd had premonitions like this before. Before the Great Ghost Dance in 1888. And again before the one in 2014. Before the first VITAS plague. Before the start of goblinization in 2021. Each time I'd seen what was to come and I couldn't stop it. Oh I'd tried, but the others weren't willing to listen. But they rarely thought about the consequences of anything that was happening. It has been that way for far too long. They've forgotten. Or didn't believe the danger was so close at hand. I was so engrossed with my morbid thoughts that by the time I looked up, I'd gone onto my neighbor's property. He was a surly bastard and hated the Página 7
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181 Caroline Spector "I hope you're
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"Aithne," I said. "Yes." Shadowrun
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Shadowrun - Novel - 18 - Worlds Without End.pdf

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