The Book of Skulls
Page 23
Then I found myself sitting, hoarse-throated and trembling, before the familiar mosaic mask. There were no more metamorphoses. The time of visions was over. I gave the mask a wary glance but it remained as it was. Very well. I searched my soul and found no residue of doubt in it; that final conflagration had burned all those late-lingering impurities away. Very well. Rising, I left my room and walked quickly down the hall, into that part of the building where bare beams alone stand forth against the open sky. Looking up, I saw a huge hawk circling far above me, dark against the fierce blank blueness. Hawk, you will die, and I will live. Of this I have no doubt. I turned the corner and came to the room where our meetings with Frater Antony are held. The frater and Ned were already there, but evidently they had waited for me; for the frater’s pendant still hung around his neck. Ned smiled at me and Frater Antony nodded. I understand, they appeared to be saying. I understand. These storms will come. I knelt beside Ned. Frater Antony removed his pendant and placed the tiny jade skull on the floor before us. Life eternal we offer thee. “Let us turn the interior vision upon the symbol we see here,” said Frater Antony gently. Yes. Yes. Joyously, expectantly, undoubtingly, I gave myself anew to the Skull and its Keepers.
ROBERT SILVERBERG is the author of many novels, including the Nebula and Hugo contending Tower of Glass, The Masks of Time, Son of Man, A Time of Changes and others, as well as numerous short stories. He has won two Hugo Awards and a Nebula and is a Past-President of the Science Fiction Writers of America.
Mr. Silverberg has also written several non-fiction books on historical and archeological subjects, including The Pueblo Revolt, Mound Builders of Ancient America, The Challenge of Climate, and Lost Cities and Vanished Civilizations.
Born and educated in New York City, the author lives there now with his wife, Barbara.