alive—an old man, perhaps, but still alive. I have to know."
"Yes," I said. But I could not help adding, "There was a time when you told me I was not death. That I must not let others persuade me to think of myself in that way. It was behind the orchard on the grounds of the House Absolute. Do you remember?"
"You have been death to me," she said. "I have succumbed to the trap I warned you of, if you like. Perhaps you are not death, but you will remain what you are, a torturer and a carnifex, and your hands will run with blood. Since you remember that time at the House Absolute so well, perhaps you… I can't say it. The Conciliator, or the Claw, or the Increate, has done this to me. Not you."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Dr. Talos gave us both money afterward, in the clearing. The money he had got from some court official for our play. When we were traveling, I gave everything to you. May I have it back? I'll need it. If not all of it, at least some of it."
I emptied the money in my sabretache onto the table. It was as much as I had received from her, or a trifle more.
"Thank you," she said. "You won't need it?"
"Not as badly as you will. Besides, it is yours."
"I'm going to leave tomorrow, if I feel strong enough. The day after tomorrow whether I feel strong or not. I don't suppose you know how often the boats put out, going downriver?"
Wolfe,_Gene_-_Book_of_the_New_Sun_3_-_The_Sword_of_the_Lictor
"As often as you want them to. You push them in, and the river does the rest."
"That's not like you, Severian, or at least not much. More the sort of thing your friend Jonas would have said, from what you've told me.
Which reminds me that you're not the first visitor I've had today.
Our friend—your friend, at least— Hethor was here. That's not funny to you, is it? I'm sorry, I just wanted to change the subject."
"He enjoys it. Enjoys watching me."
"Thousands of people do when you perform in public, and you enjoy doing it yourself."
"They come to be horrified, so they can congratulate themselves later on being alive. And because they like the excitement, and the suspense of not knowing whether the condemned will break down, or if some macabre accident will occur. I enjoy exercising my skill, the only real skill I have—enjoy making things go perfectly. Hethor wants something else."
"The pain?"
"Yes, the pain, but something more too."
Dorcas said, "He worships you, you know. He talked with me for some time, and I think he would walk into a fire if you told him to."
I must have winced at that, because she continued, "All this about Hethor is making you ill, isn't it? One sick person is enough. Let's speak of something else."
"Not ill as you are, no. But I can't think of Hethor except as I saw him once from the scaffold, with his mouth open and his eyes…"
She stirred uncomfortably. "Yes, those eyes—I saw them tonight.
Wolfe,_Gene_-_Book_of_the_New_Sun_3_-_The_Sword_of_the_Lictor Dead eyes, though I suppose I shouldn't be the one to say that. A corpse's eyes. You have the feeling that if you touched them they would be as dry as stones, and never move under your finger."
"That isn't it at all. When I was on the scaffold in Saltus and looked down and saw him, his eyes danced. You said, though, that the dull eyes he has at most times reminded you of a corpse's. Haven't you ever looked into the glass? Your own eyes are not the eyes of a dead woman."
"Perhaps not." Dorcas paused. "You used to say they were beautiful."
"Aren't you glad to live? Even if your husband is dead, and your child is dead, and the house you once lived in is a ruin— if all those things are true—aren't you full of joy because you are here again?
You're not a ghost, not a revenant like those we saw in the ruined town. Look in the glass as I told you. Or if you won't, look into my face or any man's and see what you are."
Dorcas sat up even more slowly and painfully than she had risen to drink the wine, but this time she swung her
"Yes," I said. But I could not help adding, "There was a time when you told me I was not death. That I must not let others persuade me to think of myself in that way. It was behind the orchard on the grounds of the House Absolute. Do you remember?"
"You have been death to me," she said. "I have succumbed to the trap I warned you of, if you like. Perhaps you are not death, but you will remain what you are, a torturer and a carnifex, and your hands will run with blood. Since you remember that time at the House Absolute so well, perhaps you… I can't say it. The Conciliator, or the Claw, or the Increate, has done this to me. Not you."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Dr. Talos gave us both money afterward, in the clearing. The money he had got from some court official for our play. When we were traveling, I gave everything to you. May I have it back? I'll need it. If not all of it, at least some of it."
I emptied the money in my sabretache onto the table. It was as much as I had received from her, or a trifle more.
"Thank you," she said. "You won't need it?"
"Not as badly as you will. Besides, it is yours."
"I'm going to leave tomorrow, if I feel strong enough. The day after tomorrow whether I feel strong or not. I don't suppose you know how often the boats put out, going downriver?"
Wolfe,_Gene_-_Book_of_the_New_Sun_3_-_The_Sword_of_the_Lictor
"As often as you want them to. You push them in, and the river does the rest."
"That's not like you, Severian, or at least not much. More the sort of thing your friend Jonas would have said, from what you've told me.
Which reminds me that you're not the first visitor I've had today.
Our friend—your friend, at least— Hethor was here. That's not funny to you, is it? I'm sorry, I just wanted to change the subject."
"He enjoys it. Enjoys watching me."
"Thousands of people do when you perform in public, and you enjoy doing it yourself."
"They come to be horrified, so they can congratulate themselves later on being alive. And because they like the excitement, and the suspense of not knowing whether the condemned will break down, or if some macabre accident will occur. I enjoy exercising my skill, the only real skill I have—enjoy making things go perfectly. Hethor wants something else."
"The pain?"
"Yes, the pain, but something more too."
Dorcas said, "He worships you, you know. He talked with me for some time, and I think he would walk into a fire if you told him to."
I must have winced at that, because she continued, "All this about Hethor is making you ill, isn't it? One sick person is enough. Let's speak of something else."
"Not ill as you are, no. But I can't think of Hethor except as I saw him once from the scaffold, with his mouth open and his eyes…"
She stirred uncomfortably. "Yes, those eyes—I saw them tonight.
Wolfe,_Gene_-_Book_of_the_New_Sun_3_-_The_Sword_of_the_Lictor Dead eyes, though I suppose I shouldn't be the one to say that. A corpse's eyes. You have the feeling that if you touched them they would be as dry as stones, and never move under your finger."
"That isn't it at all. When I was on the scaffold in Saltus and looked down and saw him, his eyes danced. You said, though, that the dull eyes he has at most times reminded you of a corpse's. Haven't you ever looked into the glass? Your own eyes are not the eyes of a dead woman."
"Perhaps not." Dorcas paused. "You used to say they were beautiful."
"Aren't you glad to live? Even if your husband is dead, and your child is dead, and the house you once lived in is a ruin— if all those things are true—aren't you full of joy because you are here again?
You're not a ghost, not a revenant like those we saw in the ruined town. Look in the glass as I told you. Or if you won't, look into my face or any man's and see what you are."
Dorcas sat up even more slowly and painfully than she had risen to drink the wine, but this time she swung her
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