Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 103
6
Jordan became aware that the jolting of the cart they rode
had stopped. He blinked and looked up. He didn't remember
much of the past day; all he could see was the startled face of
that man in the tomb, as an arm that seemed to be Jordan's own
pushed the spike through his throat. And then the ticking
footsteps to the stone shaft, and up and out into bright starlight.
Armiger was walking in the world again. Jordan could
hear the creaking of his dry joints, as if the dreams had begun
to infect his waking life. If he closed his eyes, he could even
see the afterimage of some other place, a field or clearing.
Armiger’s steps fell like the beat of a metronome, far past
human confidence. Steady and fast, day and night, he was
going somewhere.
He hadn't told Lady May much. She knew Armiger was
out and moving, and that he still seemed to be dead. In the
dream Jordan had looked down at himself, and awkwardly
buttoned up his jacket to cover the hole in his chest. The skin
of his fingers was taut and black, but in the last day it had
turned an awful yellow, and become more flexible.
A horrible thought had come to Jordan this morning.
Surely Armiger could see what Jordan saw; wouldn’t he know
that Calandria May was after him by now? He had asked
Calandria, and she had said, "The changes I made to your