p&c.thunderhead-第86部分

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　〃Of　course　there　wasn't。　Neither　one　of　us　ever　really　believed　that。　But　all　those　ancient　reports　weren't　totally　fabricated…not　really。　It　was　a　translational　blip。〃　
　Sloane　leaned　forward。　〃You　know　the　value　of　black…on…yellow　micaceous。　No　intact　examples　have　ever　been　found。　That's　because　they're　all　here；　Nora。　They　were　the　true　treasure　of　Anasazi。　And　they're　more　than　just　pots。　I've　seen　them。　The　designs　are　unique…they　tell；　in　pictographic　form；　the　entire　history　of　the　Anasazi。　That's　why　they　were　made　and　hoarded　here；　and　nowhere　else：　knowledge　is　power。　They　hold　the　answers　to　all　the　great　mysteries　of　southwestern　archaeology。〃　
　For　a　moment；　Nora　froze　at　these　words。　The　horror　and　danger　were　forgotten　as　she　thought　of　the　magnitude　of　such　a　discovery。　If　this　is　true；　she　thought；　then　it　makes　all　of　our　other　discoveries　seem　like　。　。　。　
　And　then　Sloane　coughed；　drawing　the　back　of　her　hand　across　her　mouth。　The　climb　seemed　to　have　drained　all　the　energy　from　her：　she　seemed　pale；　her　breathing　rapid。　Instantly；　Nora　returned　to　the　present。　The　sickness　is　ing　on　her；　she　thought。　
　〃Sloane；　the　entire　back　of　the　city…especially　the　Sun　Kiva…is　full　of　fungal　dust；〃　she　said。　
　Sloane　frowned；　as　if　doubting　she　had　heard　correctly。　〃Dust？〃　
　〃Yes。　That's　what　killed　Holroyd。　The　skinwalkers　are　using　it　for　corpse　powder。〃　
　Sloane　shook　her　head　impatiently。　〃What　are　you　doing…trying　to　distract　me　with　bullshit？　Don't　change　the　subject。　I'm　talking　about　the　greatest　discovery　of　the　century。〃　
　Sloane　fell　silent　for　a　moment。　Then　she　began　again。　〃You　know；　we　could　keep　the　mistaken　weather　report　between　ourselves。　We　could　forget　about　what　happened　to　Aragon；　forget　the　storm。　This　find　is　bigger　than　all　that。〃　She　looked　away。　〃You　can't　possibly　understand　what　it　means　to　me…what　it　would　have　meant　to　me…to　be　the　sole　discoverer。　To　have　my　name　go　down　in　history　beside　Carter　and　Wetherill。　If　it　weren't　for　me；　we　would　have　left　this　place；　the　pottery　undiscovered；　ripe　for　looting　by…〃　
　〃Sloane；〃　Nora　said；　〃the　skinwalkers　weren't　after　the　pottery。　They　wanted　to　keep　us　away　from　it。〃　
　But　Sloane　put　her　hand　up　for　silence。　〃Listen　to　me；　Nora。　Together；　we　could　give　this　great　gift　to　the　world。〃　She　drew　a　ragged　breath。　〃If　I'm　willing　to　share　this　with　you；　then　surely　you　can　forget　what's　happened　here　today。〃　
　Nora　looked　at　Sloane；　her　tawny　face　dappled　in　the　moonlight。　〃Sloane…〃　she　began；　then　stopped。　〃You　don't　get　it；　do　you？　I　can't　do　that。　It's　not　about　archaeology　anymore。〃　
　Sloane　stared　at　her；　wordlessly；　for　a　moment。　Then　she　placed　her　hand　on　the　butt　of　her　gun。　〃It's　like　I　told　you；　Nora。　You　leave　me　no　choice。〃　
　〃You　always　have　a　choice。〃　
　Sloane　drew　the　gun　quickly；　pointing　it　at　her。　〃Right；〃　she　said。　〃Endless　fame；　or　a　lifetime　in　disgrace？　That's　not　a　choice。〃　
　There　was　a　brief　silence　as　the　two　women　stood；　facing　each　other。　Sloane　coughed　once　again；　a　sharp　sound。　
　〃I　didn't　want　things　to　end　up　like　this；〃　she　said；　more　calmly。　〃But　you've　made　it　clear　it's　either　you　or　me。　And　I'm　the　one　holding　the　gun。〃　
　Nora　said　nothing。　
　〃So　turn　around；　Nora。　Walk　to　the　edge　of　the　roof。〃　
　Sloane's　voice　had　grown　very　quiet。　Nora　stared　at　her。　In　the　pale　light；　the　amber　eyes　were　hard　and　dry。　
　Her　gazed　still　locked　on　Sloane；　Nora　took　a　step　backward。　
　〃There's　only　one　bullet　left　in　the　chamber。　But　that's　all　I'll　need；　if　it　es　down　to　that。　So　turn　around；　Nora。　Please。〃　
　Slowly；　Nora　turned　around　to　face　the　night。　
　Open　space　stretched　out　before　her；　a　vast　river　of　darkness。　Across　the　narrow　valley；　Nora　could　make　out　the　dark　violet　of　the　far　wall　of　cliffs。　She　knew　she　should　feel　fear；　regret；　despair。　And　yet　the　only　emotion　she　was　aware　of　was　a　cold　rage：　rage　at　Sloane；　for　her　pathetic；　misplaced　ambition。　One　bullet　。　。　。　she　wondered；　if　she　threw　herself　to　one　side；　whether　she　stood　a　chance　in　hell　of　dodging　that　bullet。　She　tensed；　readying　herself　for　sudden　movement。　
　Sloane　shifted　behind　her。　〃Step　off　the　roof；〃　she　said。　
　But　still　Nora　stood；　eyes　and　ears　open　to　the　night。　The　storm　had　passed。　She　could　hear　the　frogs　calling　from　below；　the　hum　and　drone　of　insects　going　about　their　nocturnal　business。　In　the　intense　stillness；　she　could　even　hear　the　blood　as　it　rushed　through　her　veins。　
　〃I'd　rather　not　shoot　you；〃　she　heard　Sloane　say。　〃But　if　I　have　to；　I　will。〃　
　〃Damn　you；〃　Nora　whispered。　〃Damn　you　for　wrecking　the　expedition。　And　god　damn　you　for　killing　Bill　Smithback。〃　
　〃Smithback？〃　The　tone　in　Sloane's　voice　was　one　of　such　surprise　that；　despite　herself；　Nora　turned　toward　it。　As　she　did；　she　saw　a　form　suddenly　emerge　from　the　hole　in　the　roof：　a　dark；　matted　shape；　wolf　pelt　twisting　around　naked　painted　skin。　Pale　light　glistened　off　a　crimson　patch　of　fur　that　stained　the　figure's　midriff。　
　Sloane　pivoted　as　the　thing　rushed　at　her　with　a　great　howl　of　vengeance。　There　was　a　flash　of　moonlight　on　the　gun；　the　arc　of　a　knife；　and　both　figures　went　down；　rolling　frantically　in　the　loose　dirt　of　the　tower　roof。　Nora　dropped　to　her　knees　and　crawled　crablike　away　from　the　edge；　eyes　riveted　to　the　struggle。　In　the　moonlight；　she　could　see　the　figure；　burying　the　black　knife　again　and　again　into　Sloane's　chest　and　stomach。　Sloane　cried　out；　twisting　and　thrashing　her　body。　With　a　supreme　effort；　she　tried　to　pull　herself　away。　She　half　rose；　gun　hand　swiveling　around　desperately；　only　to　be　pulled　down　again。　There　was　a　terrible　thrashing；　another　anguished　cry　from　Sloane。　The　blade　flashed　down　and　the　gun　fired　at　last；　blowing　the　knife　into　hundreds　of　glittering　slivers　of　obsidian。　With　a　howl；　the　dark　shape　flung　itself　upon　her。　There　was　a　final　thrash；　a　puff　of　dust：　and　then　both　figures　were　gone。　
　Nora　rushed　quickly　to　the　edge；　peering　down　in　horror　as　the　bodies；　locked　together；　landed　in　the　sand　at　the　bottom　of　the　tower；　flew　apart；　then　rolled　off　the　edge　of　the　city。　Before　the　moon　buried　itself　once　again　behind　the　clouds；　it　winked　briefly　off　Sloane's　pistol　as　it　spun　lazily；　end　over　end；　into　the　unfathomable　night。　
　Trembling；　Nora　pulled　herself　back；　sprawled　across　the　floor；　breathing　hard。　
　They　had　not　killed　the　skinwalker；　after　all。　It　had　hidden　itself　somewhere　within　the　blackness　of　the　tower；　waiting　for　the　right　moment　in　which　to　strike。　Then；　it　had　attacked　Sloane　with　a　single…mindedness　so　furious　Nora　could　barely　prehend　it。　And　now；　that　skinwalker　was　dead。　And　so　was　Sloane。　
　But　it　was　not　the　chase　up　the　tower；　or　even　the　encounter　on　the　roof；　that　filled　her　with　absolute　terror。　In　the　desperate　struggle；　one　crucial　fact　had　slipped　her　mind。　Two　figures　in　wolfskins　had　assaulted　her　in　the　ranch　house；　on　that　clear　Santa　Fe　night；　barely　three　weeks　before。　And　that　meant　only　one　thing。　
　There　was　another　skinwalker；　loose　somewhere；　in　the　valley　of　Quivira。　
　
　
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　HER　BREATH　ING　IN　GASPS；　NORA　moved　toward　the　hole　in　the　tower　roof。　She　lowered　herself；　as　quietly　as　she　could；　into　the　small　redoubt　below。　On　hands　and　knees；　she　crawled　toward　the　lip　of　the　chamber；　then　looked　slowly　over　the　edge。　It　was　pitch　black　in　the　tower；　she　sensed；　rather　than　felt；　the　vast　emptiness　below　her。　She　heard　nothing　save　for　the　rush　of　water　in　the　valley　beyond…the　maddening；　unceasing　babble　that　disguised　other；　stealthier；　sounds。　
　Her　arms　trembled；　the　thought　of　descending；　sightless；　through　the　plex　labyrinth　of　ancient　wood　was　terrifying。　Yet　even　more　terrifying　was　the　thought　of　remaining　here；　inside　the　tower；　waiting　for　something　to　e　for　her。　Now　that　she　had　no　weapon…now　that　there　was　no　possible　way　to　defend　herself…the　tower　had　bee　a　deathtrap　from　which　she　had　to　escape。　
　She　struggled　to　regulate　her　breathing。　Extending　one　foot　over　the　ledge；　she　swept　it　gingerly　from　side　to　side　until　she　found　the　first　notch　of　the　topmost　ladder。　Moving　carefully　forward；　she　eased　her　weight　onto　the　old　framework；　keeping　one　hand　on　the　shelf　until　she　knew　she　had　a　firm　foothold。　Then；　with　extreme　caution；　she　began　to　descend；　one　notch　at　a　time。　She　could　feel　a　chill　wind　rising　up　from　below；　caressing　her　legs。　The　wind　rose；　and　the　tower　creaked　and　ticked　in　response。　Pebbles　came　clattering　past　her；　their　echoing　fall　reminding　her　of　the　abyss　below。　
　At　last　her　foot　reached　the　firmness　of　the　second　shelf。　She　paused　for　a　second；　trying　once　again　to　steady　the　wild　rise　and　fall　of　her　chest。　But　she　could　not　remain　here：　poised　between　roof　and　floor；　she　was　even　more　vulnerable。　Groping　in　the　darkness；　fingers　extended；　she　reached　for　the　top　of　the　detached　second　ladder。　Once　again；　she　began　the　descent；　limbs　balanced　between　the　creaking　wooden　pole　and　the　stone　protrusions。　
　Just　as　she　was　about　to　reach　for　the　next　shelf；　she　froze。　There　had　been　a　sound；　she　thought：　the　soft　hollow　sound　of　a　footfall。　She　waited；　listening；　in　the　darkness。　But　there　was　nothing　more；　and　with　relief　she　slid　down　onto　the　saf