"Jo Walton - The Rebirth of Pan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Walton Jo)

 4. LADY OF DESIRE


Half lit by darkness in the flickering cave
your smile looks past desired gold and white
to touch upon the substance, only touch
the searing sunlight shrinks the scope so small.


Katerina crossed the square cautiously. She tried to look as if she were going to the cafe at the
centre under the trees, and not to the big church of Ag. Paraskevi which stood at the eastern side of the
square. It had a blue-painted dome and the walls were white. The sanctuary itself was big enough to hold
twenty people at a time, and the courtyard where the services were held could hold the whole town, and
often did at the great Easter service. Then everyone would hold a candle and when light was rekindled in
the darkness the light would flow from one candle to another around the courtyard, and the people would
walk out from there around the bounds of the town, carrying the little lights.

Katerina loved Easter, she always had since she was a small child. She loved cupping her hand
around the flame to guard it from the wind. They said that if your candle went out before you reached
home it meant bad luck in the coming year, and if it went out and was not relit you would die. People
stayed together with their lights burning as they went home after the walk, to ensure that there would be
light there to rekindle the flame if necessary. Fat old Pappa Andros and his wife always brought up the
rear of the procession and escorted people who lived a little out of the way, making sure nobody must go
alone. They were always the last home. Her candle had never gone out. But once her best friend Taxeia's
candle had, and although they lit it again straight away she had had bad luck all that year, her grandfather
died, her mother quarrelled with her uncle and the boy who was courting her lost interest. That was six
years ago when they had only been eleven, but Taxeia and Katerina understood. Everyone was careful
with their Pascal candle in the procession, but nobody more than these two best friends.

Although it lay so near her father's taverna, Katerina rarely visited the church of Ag. Paraskevi,
apart from that big Easter service. Usually they walked through the streets to the little church of Ag.
Nikolaos. Her father, Stellio, like most of the islanders, preferred Pappa Andros's style to Pappa
Thomas's. Ag. Nikolaos' church generally had far more visitors, despite its smaller size and inferior
position in a maze of workshops and houses. Today it had to be Ag. Paraskevi's. Katerina had a
particular favour to ask of that saint. She smiled at her own daring, feeling with her fingers in the front
pocket of her dress. It was still safe, she felt the rounded corners of the copper figure of a woman. These
copper plates were generally made in the shape of body parts. People hung them in shrines as an offering
to ask for healing, or a special blessing. Hers, in the shape of a whole person, was probably meant for
someone ill all over. She'd just chosen it from the selection hanging at the kiosk. It was the closest she
could get to what she wanted.

She slipped through the gates of the church, past the free-standing bell tower and into the cobbled
courtyard. The walls of the courtyard, priest's house and the sanctuary were all freshly painted white. It
was almost dazzling as she walked across the cobbles in the sunlight. It was an hour after mid-day, and
the heat was intense as it beat on her bare head. The doors of the sanctuary were closed but opened to
her touch. The cool air inside the thick walls was very welcome. Katerina's eyes took a while to adjust to
the dim interior. There were only two small windows, with deep recessed sills angled to keep most of the
light and heat out. There were candles on the altar, and in front of the various shrines around the room.
The church was empty, as she had hoped, at this time of day. Katerina picked up an unlit candle from the
waiting pile, and walked across to the shrine of Ag. Paraskevi.