return to favor again!”
Lalo shivered. The proposal had a certain superficial logic, but there were so
many things that could go wrong.
“But perhaps I have simply not yet found the right stick to make the donkey go
…” Coricidius went on. “They say you love your wife-” he peered at Lalo
disbelievingly. “Shall we blind her and send her to the Street of the Red
Lanterns while we keep you prisoner?”
I should have gone away … thought Lalo. I should have taken Gilla and the
children out of here as soon as I had the money to go… Once he had seen a
rabbit transfixed by the shadow of a stooping hawk. I am that rabbit, and I am
lost … he thought.
And after all, the internal dialogue went on, what are all these plots and
counterplots to me? If 1 can help this Rankan buzzard return to his own foul
nest then at least Sanctuary will be free of him!
“All right … I will do what you say…” Lalo said aloud.
* * *
Lalo, brow furrowed and an extra brush held between his teeth, leaned closer to
the canvas, concentrating on the line the soft brush made. When he was painting,
his hand and eye became a single organ in which visual impressions were
transmitted to the fingers and to the brush which was their extension without
mediation by the consciousness. Line, mass, shape and color, all were factors in
a pattern which must be replicated on the canvas. The eye checked the work of
the hand and automatically corrected it without either interpretation or
reaction from the brain.
“… and then I was promoted to be under-warden of the great Temple of Savankala