残烟的小屋



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残烟的小屋

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龙骨椅第一章13
作者:残烟一缕 提交日期:2008-6-18 18:02:00 正常 | 分类: | 访问量:4225

13
    Between Worlds
   
   两个世界之间
  
    VOICES, many voices—whether birthed in his own head or in the comfortless shadows that surrounded him, Simon could not tell—were his only companions in that first terrible hour.
  
  声音,许许多多声音——是从他自己脑袋里发出来,还是周围令人不安的阴影发出来的,Simon不知道——是这些声音陪伴着他度过了可怕的第一个小时。
  
    Simon mooncalf! Done it again, Simon mooncalf!
  
  Simon傻瓜!又做这种傻事了,Simon傻瓜!
  、
    His friend is dead, his only friend, be kind, be kind!
  
  他的朋友死了,他唯一一个朋友,对我仁慈一点儿,仁慈一点儿吧!
  
    Where are we?
  
  我们到哪儿了?
  
    In darkness, in darkness forever, to bat-flitter like a lost shrieking soul through the endless tunnels...
  
  在黑暗中,在永远的黑暗中,蝙蝠的飞掠声,就象是个迷失的尖叫的灵魂,穿过这没有尽头的隧道……
  
    He is Simon Pilgrim now, doomed to wander, to wonder...
  
  现在他是朝圣者Simon了,命里注定四处漂泊,四处漂泊……
  
    No. Simon shuddered, trying to rein in the clamoring voices, I will remember. I will remember the red line on the old map, and to look for the Tan'J'a Stairs—whatever they might be. I will remember the flat black eyes of that murderer Pryrates: I will remember my friend ... my friend Doctor Morgenes...
  
  不。Simon颤抖着,试图制止这些喧闹的声音,我会记得。我会记住那张古老地图上的红线,按照标明的路线寻找Tan'J'a楼梯——不管会是什么样的楼梯。我会记住那杀人的凶手Pryrates的黑色眼睛:我会记住我的朋友……我的朋友Morgenes大夫……
  
    He sank down onto the gritty tunnel floor, weeping with helpless, strengthless anger, a barely beating heart of life in a universe of black stone. The blackness was a choking thing that pressed down on him, squeezing out his breath.
  
  他无力地坐到砂砾的隧道地板上,带着无助、无力的愤怒哭泣,在这个黑色石头构成的世界里,只有微弱的心跳声展示着生命的力量。黑暗是让人窒息的东西,压向他,挤出他的呼吸。
  
    Why did he do it? Why didn't he run?
  
  他为什么这样做?为什么他不跑?
  
    He died to save you, idiot boy—and Josua. If he had run, they would have followed; Pryrates had the stronger magic. You would have been caught, and they would have been free to follow the prince, to hunt him down and drag him back to his cell. Morgenes died for that.
  
  他的死是为了救你,傻孩子——也是为了救Josua。如果他逃跑,他们就会跟随而来;Pryrates的魔法非常强大。你会被抓住,他们会畅通无阻地追踪王子,猎捕他,捉住他,把他拖回囚牢。Morgenes是为此而死的。

  Simon hated the sound of his own crying, the hacking, sniveling sound echoing on and on. He pushed it all up from inside him, sobbing until his voice was a dry rasp—a sound he could live with, not the weepy bleat of a lost mooncalf in the dark.

Simon讨厌自己发出的哭泣声,这干咳,这啜泣,这声音一遍又一遍回响。他把体内聚集的情绪全部渲泄出来,一直哭到他的声音干燥嘶哑——这种声音他还可以忍受,不是那种黑暗中迷路的傻瓜发出的哭叫声。

  Lightheaded and sick, wiping his face with his shirtsleeve, Simon felt the forgotten weight of Morgenes' crystal sphere in his hand.

头晕眼花,很不舒服,用衣袖擦干眼泪,Simon觉察到手中被他遗忘了的Morgenes的水晶球的重量。

  Light. The doctor had given him light. Along with the papers crimped uncomfortably in the waistband of his breeches, it was the last gift the doctor had given him.

灯。大夫把这盏灯给了他。还有很不舒服地塞在他裤子腰带里的折皱的羊皮纸,这羊皮纸是大夫给他的最后一个礼物。

  No, a voice whispered, the second-to-last, Simon Pilgrim.

不,一个声音小声说着,是倒数第二个礼物,朝圣者Simon。

  Simon shook his head, trying to dispel the licking, murmuring fear. What had Morgenes said as he tied the glinting bauble to the sparrow's slender leg? To be strong with its heavy burden? Why was he sitting in the pitch dark, mewling and dribbling—wasn't he Morgenes' apprentice, after all?

Simon摇摇头,试图驱散这舔食着他的,喃喃的恐惧。Morgenes把那个闪光的小饰物绑在麻雀细小的腿上的时候,他说的是什么?带着这样沉重的负担,你要变得坚强?为什么他坐在这漆黑中,又是啜泣又是流泪——不管怎样,难道他不是Morgenes的学徒吗?

  He clambered to his feet, dizzy and trembling. He felt the glassy surface of the crystal warm beneath his stroking fingers. He stared into the darkness where his hands must be, thinking of the doctor. How could the old man laugh so often, when the world was so full of hidden treachery, of beautiful things with rot inside of them? There was so much shadow, so little...

他爬起来,眩晕着,颤抖着。他觉得水晶的玻璃似的表面在他抚摸的手指下,慢慢变暖。他凝视着黑暗中,自己的双手应该在的位置,回想起大夫。这个老人怎么能常常发出笑声,当这个世界遍及隐藏的背叛的时候,当那些美丽的事物在这背叛之中腐烂的时候?这里有那么多的阴影,那么少的……

  A pinprick of light flared before him—a needle hole in the sun-shrouding curtain of night. He rubbed harder and stared. The light bloomed, folding back the shadows; the passageway's walls leaped out on either side, brushed with glowing amber. Air seemed to rush into his lungs. He could see!

一个针孔大小的光在他面前闪烁——在这包裹着太阳的夜晚里,一个针孔般大小的洞——他用力地摩擦着水晶球,注视着它。光线越来越强,使阴影向后退去;在琥珀色光芒的拂扫下,两边露出通道的墙壁。空气象是冲进了他的肺部。他能看到了!

  The momentary elation evaporated as he turned to look up and down the corridor. A pain in his head made the walls waver before his gaze. The tunnel was nearly featureless, a lonely hole burrowing down into the underbelly of the castle, festooned with pale cobwebs. Back up the passage he could see a crossway he had already passed, a gaping mouth in the wall. He walked back. A quick shine of the crystal revealed nothing beyond the opening but tailings and rubble, a sloping pile of debris leading down out of reach of the sphere's thin light. How many other cross-paths had he missed? And how would he know which ones were the right ones? Another wave of choking hopelessness washed over him. He was hopelessly alone, hopelessly lost. He would never find himself back in the world of light.

他转身上下打量着这走廊的时候,瞬间的喜悦顷刻消失了。脑子里的疼痛使这些墙壁在他的眼前不住晃动。这条隧道几乎没有什么显著的特点,只是城堡的腹部下方深凿的一个人迹罕至的洞,到处垂挂着苍白的蜘蛛网。退回这过道,他能看到他此前走过的那个岔路,象是墙上一个张开的大嘴。他再折回来。水晶迅速闪烁的火花,照耀出这开口的对面,除了一些石屑和碎石,什么也没有,碎石铺成的一堆斜坡,通往远处,水晶球的微弱亮光所照射不到的地方。他刚才错过了多少个这样的岔路?他怎么能知道哪一条是正确的那个?另一阵窒息的无望席卷了他。他现在绝望地孤单,也绝望地迷了路。他可能永远不会返回有着亮光的那个世界里了。

  Simon Pilgrim, Simon mooncalf... family dead. friend dead, see him wander and wander forever...

朝圣者Simon,傻瓜Simon……亲人都死了。朋友死了,他们看着他永远地漂泊,漂泊……。

  "Silence!" he growled out loud, and was startled to hear the word caroming down the path before him, a messenger carrying a proclamation from the king of Under-the-ground: "Silence... silence... silen... si..."

“闭嘴!”他大声咆哮着,震惊地听见这声音从他前面的小路接连地传到远方,似乎是一个报信的使者,传递着他这地下的国王的口谕:“闭嘴……闭嘴……闭……闭……”

  King Simon of the Tunnels began his staggering progress.

隧道的国王Simon开始了他跌跌撞撞的前进。

  The passageway squirmed downward into the stone heart of the Hayholt, a smothering, winding, cobwebbed track lit only by the gleam of Morgenes' crystal sphere. Broken spiderwebs performed a slow, ghostly dance in the wake of his passage; when he turned to look back the strands seemed to wave after him, like the clutching, boneless fingers of the drowned. Hanks of silky thread stuck to his hair and draped stickily across his face, so that he had to hold his hand before his eyes as he walked. Often he would feel some small, leggy thing scuttling away across his fingers as he broke through its netting, and would have to stop for a moment, head down, until the shivers of disgust subsided.

这走道弯弯曲曲绵延向下,进入了Hayholt城堡的石头构建的中心,一条令人窒息的、盘旋缠绕的,遍布蜘蛛网的路,仅仅被Morgenes的水晶球的微光照亮着。在他走过的时候,破了的蜘蛛网慢慢地、幽魂似地随风舞动;当他回身去看的时候,那些细丝似乎在他的身后挥着手,如同那些溺水的人,纠结的、无骨的手指。这一束束的丝线粘着他的头发上,飘拂在他的脸上,他不得不在走路的时候,伸出一只手挡在眼前。他时常会觉得,在他的手指穿破这些网的时候,那些细小的、优美的东西从他的指尖匆匆掠过,于是他必须要停下来一会儿,低着头,直至那些让他颤抖的厌恶感消失。

  It was becoming colder, and the close-cramped walls of the passageway seemed to breathe with moisture. Parts of the tunnel had crumbled; in some places dislodged dirt and stone were piled so high in the center of the path that he had to push his back against the damp walls and edge around them.

现在更冷了,这道路两旁挨得很近的墙似乎在呼出潮湿的气息。隧道里有些部分已经倒塌了;一些地方散落的灰尘和石块,在路中间堆得很高,他只得背靠着潮湿的墙,从这些石堆旁侧着身挤过去。

  He was doing just that—squeezing around an obstruction, the light-wielding hand held over his head, the other feeling before him for a way past—when he felt a searing pain like a thousand needle-pricks run up his questing hand and onto his arm. A flash of the crystal brought a vision of horror—hundreds, no, thousands of tiny white spiders swarming up his wrist and under his shirt sleeve, biting like a thousand burning fires. Simon shrieked and slammed his arm against the tunnel wall, bringing a shower of clotted dirt down into his mouth and eyes. His terrified shouts echoed down the passageway, quickly failing. He fell to his knees in damp soil, smacking his stinging arm up and down into the dirt until the flaring pain began to subside, then crawled forward on his hands and knees, away from whatever horrible nest or den he had disturbed. As he crouched and frantically scrubbed his arm with loose soil the tears came again, racking him like a whipping.

现在他正在这样做着——正在挤过一堆石块,拿着闪着光的水晶球的手伸在头上,另一只手在前面摸索着找一条可通过的路——他摸索着的这只手突然感到了一阵灼热的疼痛,似乎有一千根针在刺着,这疼痛从他的手快速蔓延至他的手臂。水晶球的光亮照出了恐怖的一幕——几百只,不,几千只细小的白色蜘蛛,蜂涌着爬上他的手腕,钻进他的衣袖,如一千束燃烧的火焰,钉咬着他。Simon尖叫着,把他的手臂猛拍到隧道的墙上,引得小土块似淋浴一般从上面落进他的嘴巴、眼睛。他恐惧的叫声回荡在隧道里面,很快减弱了。他跪在潮湿的土上,上上下下地把刺痛的手臂用力拍在地上,直到这火烧般的疼痛开始减弱了,随后,他用两手两脚向前爬起来,远离了这使他不安的可怕的蜘蛛巢穴。他蹲在地下,疯狂地用松土擦揉手臂的时候,再次流出了眼泪,这疼痛象是一场鞭打,折磨着他。

  When he could stand to look at his arm, the crystal's light revealed only reddening and swelling skin beneath the dirt, instead of the bloody wounds he had been sure he would find. The arm throbbed, and he wondered dully if the spiders were poisonous—if the worst was yet to come. When he felt the sobs climbing once more in his chest, shortening his breath, he forced himself to his feet. He must go on. He must.

他可以站起来,看看手臂的时候,水晶球的光线下,只看到那些泥土下,红肿的皮肤,而不是他曾确信自己会看到的,流血的伤口。这只胳膊抽动着,他有一点怀疑,这些蜘蛛是不是有毒——那才是下一步他才会发现的最坏的状况。他又一次觉得胸口又酸得想落泪,他快速呼吸着,迫使自己站起来。他必须继续往前走。他必须这样。

  A thousand white spiders.

这里有一千只白蜘蛛

  He must go on.

他必须接着走。

  He followed the sphere's dim light downward. It gleamed on moisture-slick stone and earth-choked cross-corridors, twining with pallid roots. Surely he must be far below the castle by now—far down into the black earth. There was no sign of Josua's passage, or of anyone's. He was sickeningly certain he had missed some turning-place in the darkness and confusion, and was even now spiraling downward into an inescapable pit.

他随着水晶球的微光指示的道路,向下走去。这水晶球的光线照在潮湿光滑的石头上,照在被泥土堵着的岔道里,这光线一丝丝地从暗淡的根须,盘旋缠绕。当然他现在已经到了城堡下面很深的地方了——在黑色的大地下面很深的地方了。他非常难受地确信,他在这黑暗中,和混乱中,已经在一些转弯的地方走错了,因此,如今他甚至盘旋着向下进入了一个不可逃离的坑穴。

He had trudged on so long, making so many twists and turns, that the memory of the narrow red line on Morgenes' old parchment was now useless. There was nothing remotely like stairs anywhere in these narrow, strangling wormholes. Even the glowing crystal was beginning to flicker. The voices escaped his control again, surrounding him in the crazy shadows like a shouting throng. Dark and getting darker. Dark and getting darker. Let us lie down for a while. We want to sleep, just for a while, sleep...

他已经艰难地走了这么远的路了,也转过许多弯了,回忆Morgenes的古老羊皮纸上的细线如今已经没有用了。在这些狭窄的、令人窒息的虫洞般的隧道里,想找到楼梯,是遥不可及的事情。即使是水晶球的光亮现在也开始闪烁起来。他脑海里幻想的那些声音,再次不为他所控制,在这疯狂的阴影里围绕着他,如同一群人在大叫着。越来越黑了。越来越黑了。让我们躺一会儿吧。我们想睡觉,只睡一会儿,睡觉……

  The king has an animal inside him, and Pryrates is its keeper...

国王心里有了野性,Pryrates就是这野性的守护者……

  "My Simon." Morgenes called you '"my Simon"... he knew your father. He kept secrets.

“我的Simon。”Morgenes称你为“我的Simon。”……他认识你的父亲。他保留着很多秘密。

  Josua is going to Naglimund. The sun shines there all day and night Naglimund. They eat sweet cream and drink clear, shining water at Naglimund. The sun is bright.

Josua正在赶往Naglimund领地。在Naglimund,太阳光不分昼夜地照射着。在Naglimund,他们吃着甜甜的奶酪,喝清澈的、闪闪发光的水。太阳非常明亮。

  Bright and hot. It is hot. Why?

明亮而炎热。很炎热。为什么?

  The damp tunnel was suddenly very warm. He stumbled on, hopelessly sure that he felt the first fever of spider-poison. He would die in the dark, the terrible dark. He would never again see the sun, or feel its...

潮湿的隧道突然变得非常温暖。他跌跌撞撞地向前走着,绝望地相信,他已经感觉到,这中了蜘蛛毒的第一次高烧症状了。他会死在这黑暗里,这可怖的黑暗里。他永远不会再次看到太阳了,也不会感觉到太阳的热度……

  The warmth seemed to push into his lungs. It was getting hotter!

这暖意似乎冲入他的肺里。越来越热了!

  Stifling air enfolded him, sticking his shirt to his chest and his hair to his forehead. He felt a moment of even greater panic.

沉闷的空气席卷着他,他的衣服粘上他的胸口,他的头发粘上他的前额。他有一会儿甚至觉得极度慌恐。

  Have I circled round? Have I walked for years only to come back to the ruins of Morgenes' chamber— the burned, blackened remains of his life?

是不是我在绕着圈儿?是不是我走了许多许多年,到最后发现自己只是重新回到Morgenes房间的废墟——那烧焦了的、烧黑了的他的生命的残余?

  But it was not possible. He had been going downward steadily, never once mounting back to anything more than a moment's level going. Why was it so hot?

可这不可能。他一直在保持着向下走,从来没有往回走向上坡过,除了一些时候,走的是水平方向的路。为什么会这么热呢?

  The memory of one of Shem Horsegroom's stories pushed forward, a story of young Prester John wandering through darkness toward a great, brooding heat—the dragon Shurakai in its lair beneath the castle... this castle.

马夫Shem曾经讲过的那些故事突然从记忆中冲了出来,有一个故事是说,长老John年轻的时候,蜿蜒经过一片黑暗,走向一处巨大的、酝酿中的酷热——龙Shurakai在它的巢穴里卧着,在城堡底下……这个城堡。

  But the dragon is dead! I've touched its bones, a yellow chair in the throne room. There is no dragon anymore—no sleepless, deep-breathing red hulk the size of the toumey field, waiting in the darkness with claws like swords and a soul as old as the stones of Osten Ard—the dragon is dead.

可这龙已经死了!我已经摸过它的骨头了,王宫大殿里的那个黄色的椅子。这儿已经再也不会有龙了——在这个隧道中,不可能再有没有睡着的、呼吸深沉的红色的巨大的怪物,它的爪子如剑一般锋利,灵魂如Osten Ard大陆的石头一样古老,在这黑暗中等待着——那只龙已经死了。

 But did dragons never have brothers? And what was that sound? That dull, grumbling roar? The heat was oppressive, and the air was thick with itching smoke. Simon's heart was a lump of dull lead in his chest. The crystal began to dim as broad smears of reddish light blotted out the sphere's weaker radiance. The tunnel flattened, turning now neither left nor right, leading down a long, eroded gallery to an arched doorway that danced with a flickering orange radiance. Shivering despite the sweat streaming down his face, Simon felt himself drawn toward it.

可龙就没有兄弟了吗?那个声音是什么?那个沉闷的、喃喃的咆哮声?热浪是压倒性的,空气里弥漫着浓重的烟雾。Simon的心象一个沉重的铅块悬在胸口。从前面传来的大片的红色亮光,遮挡了水晶球的微弱光线。隧道此时变得平坦,左边、右边都没有转弯,而是和一条长长的腐蚀了的走廊相衔接,通往一处弧形的门口,传出摇曳的橙色亮光。汗水流下他的脸, Simon颤抖着,似乎被什么牵引着,向那边走去。

  Turn and run, mooncalf?

快转身跑吧,傻子?

  He could not. Each step was a labor, but he moved closer. He reached the archway and craned his neck fearfully around the portal's rim.

他的腿不听使唤。虽然迈出的每一步都很沉重,可他仍旧越走越近。他走到了拱门那里,恐惧地把脖子探向入口边缘的另一侧。

  It was a great cavern, awash in leaping light. The rock walls seemed to have melted and set like wax at the base of a candle, the stone smoothed in long, vertical ripples. For a moment Simon's light-stunned eyes opened wide in amazement; at the cavern's far side a score of dark figures were kneeling before the shape of... a monstrous, flame-blazing dragon!

这是一个巨大的洞窟,跳跃的光线起伏波动。岩石的墙壁似乎融化了,它的样子和位置如同一根蜡烛底层的蜡,石头在那些很长的、垂直排列的波纹里,变得光滑。有一阵,Simon惊异地睁大被光亮照花的眼睛;在这洞窟遥远的那一边,二十个黑色的身影跪在一个形状仿似……一个巨大的、发出炽热火光的龙的前面!

  An instant later he saw that it was not so; the huge shape crouched against the stone was a great furnace. The dark-clad figures were forking logs into its flaming maw.

片刻之后,他看出那个不是龙;那个蜷伏在石头上的巨大的形状是一个大熔炉。那些身着黑衣的影子,正在用叉子把圆木放入这炉子燃烧的腹部。

  The foundry! The castle foundry!

是铸造厂!城堡的铸造厂!

  All around the cavern heavily dressed and scarf-masked men were smithying the tools of war. Massive buckets of glowing liquid iron were pulled from the flames on the ends of long poles. Molten metal jumped and hissed as it drizzled into plate-shaped molds, and above the groaning voice of the furnace reverberated the clang of hammer on anvil.

在这洞窟的四周,都是身穿沉重服装、围巾蒙面的人,正在锻造战争中的武器。装着炽热的铁水的那些大桶,被那些长长的杆子用一头挑着,从火焰中抽起。熔化的金属跳跃着,嘶嘶作响着,洒进盘形的模具,盖过这熔炉的呻吟声的,是锤敲在铁砧上的震耳欲聋的响声。

  Simon shrank back from the doorway. For a heartbeat he had felt himself about to leap forward and run to these men—for men they were, despite their strange dress. It had seemed in that instant that anything was better than the dark tunnel, and the voices—but he knew better. Did he think these foundrymen would help him to escape? Doubtless they knew only one route from the blazing cavern: up and back into the clutches of Pryrates—if he had survived the inferno of Morgenes' chambers—or the brutal justice of Elias.

Simon从门口缩了回去。瞬间,他觉得自己想要跳上前,跑向这些人——尽管这些人穿着奇怪的服装,然而他们确是人类。在那个瞬间,无论哪种状况,都比他继续留在黑暗中,听那些声音,好得多——可他更加明白事实并非如此。这些铸造工人们真的会帮他逃出去吗?无疑他们只知道走出这火热的洞窟的唯一一条路:向上走,回到Pryrates的魔爪中——如果他在Morgenes房间的那场地狱之火中幸存下来的话——或是面对Elias残酷的判决。

  He sank down onto his haunches to think. The noise of the furnace and his own painful head made it difficult. He could not remember passing any cross-tunnels for some time. He could see what looked like a row of holes along the far wall of the foundry-cavem; it could be that they were nothing but storage chambers...

他蹲下来考虑着。炉子发出的响声,和他自己的头疼,使他的思考有些困难。他很长时间无法想起自己经过的那些岔道了。他能看见,沿着这铸造厂的洞窟最远的墙壁,有一排洞穴;也许那是一些贮藏室……

  Or dungeons...

也可能是地牢……

  But it seemed just as likely that they were other routes in and out of the chamber. To retreat back up the tunnel seemed foolish...

可看起来,似乎是这洞窟的另一些可出入的道路。再撤回他来的那条隧道看上去太傻了……

  Coward! Scullion!

懦夫!可怜虫!

  Numb, battered, he balanced on the knife-edge of indecision. To go back, and wander through the same dark, spider-haunted tunnels, his only light nickering into extinction... or to make his way across the roaring infemo of the foundry floor—and from there, who could know? Which should it be?

麻木的,累坏了的,他站在这刀锋似的优柔寡断上面。是回去,蜿蜒穿过同样的漆黑的、蜘蛛出没的那些隧道,同时他唯一的光源慢慢地耗尽……还是向前走,穿过这地狱般狂叫的铸造厂的地面——而从那里,谁又能知道?会通往何处呢?

  He will be King of Under-ground, Lord of the Weeping Shades!

他会成为这地表下的国王,成为哭泣的影子的君主!

  No, his people are gone, let him be!

不,他的亲人们都死了,任由他落到了这样的下场!

  He smacked himself on the head, trying to dispel the chattering voices.

他猛地敲敲头,想要驱散这些喋喋不休的声音。

  If I'm going to die, he decided, wresting back the mastery of his speeding heart, at least let it be in the light.

如果我一定要死,他下了决定,猛然间重新掌握了急速跳动的心,至少让我死在光亮中吧。


  He bent over, head throbbing, to stare at the cupped gleam of the crystal sphere. Even as he looked, the light died, then throbbed back into tenuous life. He slipped it into his pocket.

他俯下身,头疼欲裂,专注地看着捧在手心里的水晶球发出的微光。他的目光落在水晶球上的时候,光亮熄灭了,随即又跳动起来,重拾它纤细的生命活力。他将水晶球滑落进了衣袋里。

  The furnace flame and the dark shapes that passed before them laid pulsing stripes of red, orange and black along the wall; he dropped down from the archway to huddle beside the downsloping ramp. The nearest hiding place was a shabby brick structure some fifteen or twenty ells from where he crouched, a disused kiln or oven that squatted on the chamber's fringe. After a few deep breaths he bolted for it, half-running, half-crawling. His head ached from the motion, and when he reached the bulky kiln he had to lower his face between his knees until the black spots went away. The harsh roar of the feeding furnace rang like thunder inside his head, silencing even his voices with its painful clamor.

这熔炉的火光和那些黑色的形体,将跳动着的红色、橙色、黑色的光线,投射到对面那道墙上;他从这扇拱门,慢慢向下移动,挨着这个下斜坡蜷缩下来。距他目前蹲伏的这个位置最近的藏身之处,是大约十五到二十厄尔远的一处残破的砖制的架构,它或是一个废弃的砖窑,或是一个不用的烤炉,矮矮地在这洞窟的边缘堆积着。深吸了好几口气,他连跑带爬地冲向这旧砖窑里。这一动作,使他的头疼了起来,等他到了这巨大的砖窑,他不得不把头垂到两膝之间,等着眼前的黑点儿统统消散。这铸造着铁器的熔炉,发出刺耳的轰鸣声,如炸雷一样响彻他的头骨,这震耳的轰鸣,甚至驱散了他自己脑海里一直泛起的呓语声。

  He made his way from dark place to dark place, little islands of shadowed safety in the ocean of smoke and red noise. The foundrymen did not look up and see him; they barely communicated among themselves, limited in the crushing din to broad gestures, like armored men in the chaos of battle. Their eyes, points of reflected light above the masking cloth, seemed instead to stare at one thing only: the bright, compelling glow of hot iron. Like the red map-line that still snaked a wistful course through Simon's memory, the radiant metal was everywhere and all the same, like a dragon's magical blood. Here it splashed over the edge of a vat, spattering in gemlike drops; over there it wound serpentlike away across the rock to flow hissing into a pool of brackish water. Great tongues of incandescence sluiced down from buckets, coloring the bundled foundrymen in demonic scarlet.

这里起伏的烟雾,连同随着铸铁的声音而泛起的波动的火光,交汇而成一片海洋,在这海洋之上,有着许多光亮照射不到的地方,那些地方,便如同一座座小小的孤岛,为他提供安全的庇护,于是,他一次次从亮处冲过,躲到那些阴影后面,就这样不断地向前移动着。铸工们一直在忙碌,没有一个人抬起过头,没有一个人看到了他;即使是这些铸工之间,彼此也互不理睬,他们只是不断地变幻着各种身姿,不住地锤打着铁器,发出声声的撞击,如同撕杀的疆场上,那些披坚执锐的将士们,投入战斗时所表现出的场景。面罩的上方,露出他们的双眼,这一双双眼睛,在周围火光的映照下,仿佛只凝神注视着一样事物:那就是散发着明亮而强烈的红光的铁水。在Simon的脑海中,始终不时地闪现出,大夫的地图上,红笔标出的那条路,而此刻,在Simon的眼前,这散发着火光的铁水,正如他时时渴望回想起来的那条红线,延伸到各处,并同样地仿若一只龙的血液,谜一般难解。瞧这里,这铁水溅射到一只桶的边沿,它便洒下一帘宝石般光泽的水珠;看那边,这铁水又如长蛇相似,蜿蜒穿过岩石,嘶嘶作响地流入难闻的水池中。一条条炽热巨大的火舌,从一个个桶中奔涌而下,将这簇拥着的铸工们,笼罩进一片似乎富有魔力的猩红之中。

  Creeping, scuttling, Simon made his slow way around the rim of the smelting-cave until he reached the nearest ramp leading out of the chamber. The oppressive, breathing heat and his own sickened spirit urged him to climb up, but the packed earth of the ramp showed a deep, crisscrossing scrawl of cartwheel tracks. This was a much-used doorway, he reasoned, thoughts blurry and slow. It was not a place he should try.

绕过这个作为铸造厂的洞窟的边儿,近处有一个斜坡,通往洞窟外面,Simon匆匆地蹑手蹑脚地过去,一点一点地来到了这处斜坡。四周压得他喘不过气来的高温,和他自己已经混乱的头脑,都在催促着他快点爬上去,但这一处斜坡的地上,却满是纵横交错的车轮印。Simon心里迷迷糊糊地想,这是一处经常使用的路口。沿着这条路走,对Simon来说,一点也不明智,他当然不能走这里。

  At last he reached a mouth in the cavern wall that had no ramp. It was a difficult scrabble up the smooth—fire-melted? Dragon-melted?—rock, but his flagging strength held up long enough for him to pull himself over the lip and collapse full length in the sheltering shadows just inside, the unpocketed sphere glowing weakly in his hand like a trapped firefly.

最后,他来到了洞窟一处没有斜坡的开口处。沿着这被火熔化?还是被龙喷出的火熔化?的非常平滑的岩石向上爬,是非常困难的,然而他逐渐虚弱的体力,还是足以支持他爬到了上面,之后,他无力地倒在了这一处阴影里,他手里拿着的水晶球,如同一只被逮住了的荧火虫,发出微弱的光亮。

  When he knew who he was once more, he was crawling.

当他的意识再一次恢复过来的时候,他发现自己正在往前爬。

  On your knees again, mooncalf?

又在地上爬了,你这个傻瓜?

  The blackness was virtually complete, and he was moving blindly downward. The tunnel floor was dry and sandy beneath his hands.

现在,四周已经完全黑了下来,Simon摸索着沿着这条路向下走。他的双手触碰到的隧道的地面,干燥,且满是沙砾。

  He crawled for a long, long time; even the voices began to sound as if they felt sorry for him.

他爬了好长好长一段时间;即使他耳边再次传来似乎是在可怜他的声音,他也不予理会。

  Simon lost... Simon lost lost los...

Simon迷路了……Simon迷路了,迷路了,迷……

  Only the slowly diminishing heat behind convinced him he was actually moving—but toward what? Where? He crept like a wounded animal, through solid shadow, heading down, always down. Would he crawl downward to the very center of the world?

只有他身后那些渐渐散去的灼热气息,使他确信自己是在一直向前移动着——但这条路通往何处?能给他带来什么?他象一只受了伤的小动物,穿过周围的阴影,向下爬着,这条路一直向下方延伸。他是不是爬向这个世界的中心?

  Scuttling, leggy things beneath his fingers meant nothing now. The darkness was complete, inside and outside. He felt himself almost bodiless, a bundle of frightened thoughts bumping down into the cryptic earth.

他的手指触碰到的那些急急溜走的、长着细细的长腿的小虫子,对他而言已经不算什么了。他的周围已经完全黑了下来。他觉得自己几乎没有了形体,在这个神秘的地下,所存在着的不过是一些吓坏了的想法。

  Somewhere, sometime later, the darkened sphere he had clutched for so long that it seemed a pan of him began to glow again, this time with a strange azure light. From a core of pulsing blue the light expanded until he had to hold the sphere away from him, squinting. He climbed slowly to his feet and stood panting, his hands and knees tingling where they no longer touched sand.

过了一些时候,他握在手里很长一段时间的失去的光亮的水晶球,再次发出了亮光,这一次,它闪烁着一种奇怪的天蓝色亮光。从这散发出的蓝光的中心,光亮渐渐加强,最后他不将这水晶球从自己眼前移到一旁,斜着眼睛看着它。他慢慢地直起身子,站在地上喘息着,刚才他的手掌和膝盖一直在砂砾上爬行摩擦的地方,如今开始感觉到了一种麻麻的刺痛。

  The tunnel walls were covered in fibrous black growths, tangled as uncombed wool, but through the twining strands gleamed shining patches, reflecting the new-flowered light. Simon hobbled closer to investigate, drawing his hand back with a thin wheeze of disgust as he touched the greasy black moss. Some of his self had come back with the light, and as he stood swaying he thought about what he had crawled through, and trembled.

这里,隧道的墙壁覆盖了一层须根状的黑色植物,象是未经梳理的羊毛,纠缠在一起,但是从这些缠绕着的植物的缝隙里,传来了丝丝的光线,是Simon手里水晶球的光亮反射上去的。Simon蹒跚着走上前去仔细查看,他的手碰到这些油脂的黑色苔藓,厌恶得哼了一声,马上将手抽了回来。在这水晶球的光线的照射下,Simon恢复了一些意识,他摇晃着身体站着,回想起他爬过来的那一路,不由颤抖起来。

  The wall beneath the moss was covered in some kind of tile, chipped and scored in many places, missing in others so that the dull earth showed through. Behind him the tunnel sloped upward, the rut of his passage stopping where he now stood. Before him the darkness led on. He would try walking on two legs for a while.

苔藓下面的墙上,镶着瓷片,这些瓷片,好多地方碎裂了、刮烂了,也有一些地方的瓷片已经不见了,露出了泥土。在他的身后,是隧道通往上方的斜坡,而他爬过的痕迹,在如今他站着的这个地方停了下来。在他前面,仍然是一片黑暗。再往前走的时候,他不再在地上爬了。

  The passage soon widened. The arched entrances of scores of other corridors joined the one he traveled, most of them filled with soil and stone. Soon there were also flagstones beneath his shambling feet, uneven, fractured stone that nonetheless caught the light of the lantern-sphere with strange opalescence. The ceiling gradually angled away above him, out of reach of the blue light; the corridor continued downward into the earth. Something that might have been the beat of leathery wings fluttered in the emptiness above.

路很快变得宽敞起来。他走的这处走廊,又延伸出通往其他各处的走廊,这些走廊弓形的入口汇在一起,大部分的走廊里,都满是灰尘和石块。很快,在他的步履蹒跚的脚下,就出现了石板路,这些石头坑坑洼洼,处处断裂,在他手里水晶球的照射下,现出奇怪的乳白色光亮。在他的前面,天花板逐渐转向了别处,水晶球的蓝光照射不到那些地方;而这走廊,仍然向下方延伸着。在上方,传来了皮革似的翅膀的拍打声。

  Where am I now? How could Hayholt run so deep? Doctor said castles under castles, down into the world's bones. Castles under castles... under castles...

现在我是在哪里? Hayholt城堡怎么会这么深?大夫说,无数个城堡下面还是无数个城堡,一直通往这个世界的深处。无数个城堡下面叠着无数个城堡……下面叠着无数个城堡……

  He had stopped without knowing it, and had turned to stand before one of the cross-passages. In some part of his head he could see himself and how he must look—tattered, dirt-smeared, head wagging from side to side like a half-wit. A strand of spittle dangled from his lower lip.

他无意识中停下脚步,转身站在一个十字路口前。他的一部分思路,可以清楚地看到自己如今成了什么样子——衣服破破烂烂,身上满是泥土,脑袋左右摇摆着象是一个白痴,下嘴唇挂着一缕唾液。

  The doorway before him was unblocked; a strange scented air like dried flowers hung in the black arch. He stepped forward, dragging an arm that felt like heavy, useless meat across his mouth, holding aloft the crystal sphere in his other hand.

他面前的门口敞开着;在这黑暗的拱门里,传出了如同干花的奇怪味道。他向前走去,抬起一只沉重的胳膊,用嘴咬着,另一只手高高举起水晶球。

  ... Beautiful! Beautiful place...!

……太美了!这里真是太美了……!

  It was a chamber, perfect in the blue glow, as perfect as if someone had left it only a moment before. The ceiling was high-vaulted, covered in a tracery of delicate painted lines, a pattern suggesting thom bushes, or flowering vines, or the meandering of a thousand meadow streams. The rounded windows were choked with rubble, and dirt had poured down from them to silt the tiled floor beneath, but all else was untouched. There was a bed—a miracle of subtle, curving wood—and a chair as fine as the bones of a bird. In the room's center stood a fountain of polished stone that looked as if it might fill with singing water at any moment.

这是一个房间,在蓝光的照耀下,显得美极了,美得象是有人片刻之前刚刚离开这里。天花板高高地拱起,镶嵌着用彩色的精细纹路描画的花饰窗格,花纹的图案象是一丛荆棘丛,或是缠绕的藤蔓,又象是草地上蜿蜒而行的千条溪流。那些圆形的窗户,虽然有些地方被一些碎石遮住了,而从上面落下的泥土淤塞了下面的砖地,可房间里其他的地方还是完好无损的。房间里有一张床——用非常精细的、弯曲的木头做成的一张漂亮得不可思议的床——而房间里的椅子,如同鸟儿的骨头一样光滑精致。在这房间的正中,是个用磨光的石头做成的喷泉,看上去似乎随时都可以喷发出如歌的水流。

  A home for me. A home beneath the ground. A bed to sleep in, sleep and sleep until Pryrates and the king and the soldiers have all gone away...

这是为我准备的地下的房间。这是为我准备的一张可以在上面安睡的床,我可以一直睡着,一直睡着,直到Pryrates、国王和那些士兵全都离开了这个世界……

  A few dragging steps forward and he stood beside the bed, the pallet as clean and unsmirched as the sails of the blessed. There was a face staring down at him from a niche above it, a splendid, clever woman's face—a statue. Something about it was wrong, though: the lines were too angular, the eyes too deep and wide, the cheekbones high and sharp. Still it was a face of great beauty, captured in translucent stone, forever frozen in a sad, knowing smile.

不由自主向前走了几步,他站在床边,床铺非常整洁干净,如同受过祝福的船帆。上面的小壁龛里,一张面孔俯视着他,那是一个华贵的、智慧的女子的面孔——是一个雕像。虽然,雕像上有些部位看起来不太顺眼:那些线条太棱角突出了,那双眼睛太深了,也太大了,颊骨太高了,也太明显了。然而,这张脸仍然是绝美的,这种美丽之处,被半透明的石头展现出来,永远地定格在那忧伤的、无所不知的微笑中。

As he reached out to gently touch the sculpted cheek his shin nudged the bedframe, a touch delicate as a spider's step. The bed crumbled into powder. A moment later, as he stared in horror, the bust in the niche dissolved into fine ash beneath his fingertips, the woman's features melting away in an instant. He took a stumbling step back and the light of the sphere glared and then waned to a dim glow. The thump of his foot on the floor leveled the chair and delicate fountain, and a moment later the ceiling itself began to sift down, the twining branches moldering into soft dust. The sphere flickered as he lurched for the door, and as he plunged back out into the corridor the blue light guttered out.

他伸手轻轻地触碰雕像的面颊,这轻微的碰撞如同蜘蛛的脚步一样轻柔,这时他的胫骨碰到了床框。床立时碎成了粉末。在他惊恐地注视下,眨眼的功夫,壁龛的半身雕像在他的指尖消散成纤细的灰烬,那个女子的容貌片刻之间消失不见了。他磕磕绊绊地退后一步,水晶球的光芒闪耀了一下,随即减退成黯淡的亮光。他的脚重重踏在地上,椅子和精致的喷泉同样化成了灰烬,片刻之后,天花板也开始散落下来,那缠绕的枝条状的花纹碎成了轻柔的灰尘。他冲向门口的时候,水晶球的光芒不住地闪烁,而当他再次来到了走廊里,蓝色的光亮渐渐熄灭。

  Standing in the darkness again, he heard someone crying. After a long minute he reeled forward, down into the never-ending shadows, wondering who it was that could still have tears left to shed.

再次被黑暗所包围,他听到有人在哭。过了一会儿,他摇晃着向前走去,一路向下,进入了永无尽头的黑暗中,他很奇怪,这是谁,还有眼泪可以流出来。

  The passage of time had become a thing only of fits and starts. Somewhere behind him he had dropped the spent crystal to lie forever in darkness, a pearl in the blackest trenches of the secret sea. In a last, sane part of his wandering thought, thoughts now unbounded by the hedge of light, he knew that he was moving still further downward.

这一路走来,时间似乎散成了断断续续的片段,一点也连贯不起来。刚才,不知道是在什么地方,不再发出亮光的水晶球被他掉落在地上,永远地留在了黑暗中,似乎是掉落在这神秘的大海般的黑色隧道里的一颗珍珠。最后,他那飘浮不定的思想里,终于有一部分恢复了意识,如今,这部分清醒的神智,在一片黑暗的情况下,不必借助于光亮,也知道,自己仍然在往地下深处的地方走去。

  Going down. Into the pit. Going down.

下去吧。到下面的坑里吧。下去吧。

  Going where? To what?

这是去往哪里?等在尽头的又是什么?

  From shadow to shadow, as a scullion always travels.

从一处黑暗到另一处黑暗,象一个洗碟子的仆人,总是在到处走动。

  Dead mooncalf. Ghost mooncalf...

你是个要死的傻瓜。鬼魂一般的傻瓜……

  Drifting, drifting... Simon thought of Morgenes with his wispy beard curling in flame, thought of the shining comet glaring redly down on the Hayholt... thought of himself, descending—mounting?—through the black nothing spaces like a small, cold star.

象是在无休无止地漂浮着……Simon想起了Morgenes,想起他的那把胡须在火焰中卷曲,Simon想起了天空中,闪闪发亮的彗星发出红色的耀眼的光芒,俯视着Hayholt城堡……Simon想起了他自己,向下走着……还是向上走着?——穿过这周遭的黑暗,仿佛自己是一颗小小的、寒冷的星星。

  Drifting.

Simon的身体和思绪都在这黑暗中漂浮不定。

  The emptiness was complete. The darkness, at first just an absence of light and life, began to assume qualities of its own: narrow, choking dark when the tunnels narrowed, Simon clambering over drifts of rubble and tangling roots, or the lofty, airy darkness of invisible chambers, full of the parchment scrape of bat wings. Feeling his way through these vast, underground galleries, hearing his own muffled footfalls and the hissing patter of dirt shaken loose from the walls, any remaining sense of direction fell away. He might be walking straight up the walls, for all he could tell, or staggering across the ceilings like a maddened fly. There was no left or right; when his fingers found solid walls again, and doors leading to other tunnels, he groped mindlessly on through more constricted passageways and into other bat-squeaking, measureless catacombs.

四周,给人的感觉非常的空虚。黑暗,开始的时候只是缺少光亮和生命的迹象,而如今,开始现出了它的本质:在隧道变得狭窄的时候,这黑暗就使人觉得被挤压着、无法喘息,Simon爬上混乱的碎石,或是高处黑暗的房间,到处都是飞动的蝙蝠,拍打着双翼,发出羊皮纸似的悉悉索索声。Simon摸索着穿过这些巨大的、地底的走廊,听到的是他自己含混不清的脚步声,还有墙壁上的灰尘簌簌洒落的声音,他只能凭着触觉和听觉,来辨认自己走路的方向。他只知道,自己是在沿着墙壁笔直向前走着,还是象一只疯狂的苍蝇,跌跌绊绊地穿过天花板下方。他辨不清左右;当他的手指摸到了坚固的墙壁的时候,当他摸到通往另一处隧道的门的时候,他就会不加思索地摸索着,穿过另一处狭窄的过道,进入另一处满是蝙蝠的尖叫声的、深不可测的地下墓穴。

  Ghost of a mooncalf!

真象一个傻瓜的鬼魂!

  The odor of water and stone was everywhere. His sense of smell, like his hearing, seemed to have grown more acute in the blind, black night, and as he fumbled his way ever downward the scents of this midnight world washed over him—damp, loamy earth, nearly as rich as bread dough, and the bland but harsh fragrance of rocks. He was awash in the vibrant, breathing odors of moss and roots, the busy, sweet rottenness of tiny things living and dying. And floating through everything, permeating and complicating all, was the sour, mineral tang of seawater.

这里,到处都是水和石头的气息。他的嗅觉,也如同他的听觉一样,似乎在这漆黑之中,变得更加灵敏了,他摸索着继续向下走的时候,午夜的气息笼罩在他的四周——这是潮湿的、肥沃的土地的气息,几乎就同面包团一样的珍贵,还有淡淡的粗糙的岩石的气息。他被这苔藓和草根所发出的、在微风中颤动的气息所沉醉,这气息里,也夹杂着活着的小动物们来回跑动的身影,还有死了的小动物们发出的腐烂气息。而漂浮在这所有的气息之上的,比这些气息更加明显更加复杂的,是酸酸的、带有矿物质的气味的海水的味道。

  Seawater? Sightless, he listened, hunting the booming sounds of the ocean. How deep had he come? All he heard were the minute shufflings of digging things and his own ragged breathing. Had he tunneled beneath even the unsounded Kynslagh?

海水?他看不见,只能听,寻找着海浪的澎湃声。他现在是在多深的地下?他所能听到的,只有那些不断挖掘的小动物,发出的悉悉索索的声音,还有他自己粗重的呼吸声。难道他已经走到了深不可测的Kynslagh湖下面?

  There! Faint musical tones, chiming in the farther depths. Water dripping.

他听到了!微弱如音乐般的声音,在更深的地方响起。那是水滴的声音。

  Down he went. The walls were moist.

他向下走去。这里的墙壁是潮湿的。

  You are dead, Simon Mooncalf. A spirit, doomed to haunt a void.

你死了,傻瓜 Simon。你现在只是一个灵魂了,注定要在空虚中出没。

  There is no light. There never was such a thing. Smell the darkness? Hear the resounding nothing? This has ever been.

这里一片漆黑。这里什么也没有。只能闻到黑暗是吧?什么声音也听不到是吧?因为除了黑暗,除了寂静,周围什么也没有。

  The fear was all he had left, but even that was something—he was afraid, so he must be alive! There was darkness, but there was Simon, too! They were not one and the same. Not yet. Not quite...

现在他所有的,只有恐惧,然而即使是恐惧,也是一种切实的存在——他很害怕,所以他必定活着!周围确实全是黑暗,但这里还有Simon!黑暗和Simon并不完全是一回事。现在还不是一回事。

 And now, so slowly he did not perceive the difference for a long time, light came back. It was a light so faint, so dim, that at first it was less than the points of color hovering before his useless eyes. Then curiously, he saw a black shape before him, a deeper shadow. A clot of worms, wriggling? No. Fingers... a hand... his hand! It was silhouetted before him, bathed in a faint glow.

而现在,他在过了很长时间以后,才渐渐发现这里的不同之处,他看到了光线。这种光线非常微弱,非常黯淡,一开始,这些光只不过是彩色的光点,在他无视其存在的眼前晃动着。随后,他非常好奇地发现,在他前面有一个黑色的形体,是一个颜色非常深的影子。那是一群虫子,正在蠕动着?不。手指……一只手……他自己的手!在他的面前,手的轮廓,沐浴在微弱的光亮中。

  The close-bending tunnel walls were thick with twining moss, and it was the moss itself that gleamed—a pale, green-white shimmer that threw only enough light to show the greater darkness of the tunnel before him, and the light-blocking shadow of his own hands and arms. But it was light! Light! Simon laughed soundlessly, and his nebulous shadows crisscrossed the passageway.

在几乎是弯曲着的隧道的墙壁上,覆盖了厚厚的苔藓,这些苔藓缠绕在一起,而这光线,是苔藓自身发出来的——苍白的、青白相间的微光,这微光,仅仅使他能看到,前面的隧道里,极其的黑暗,而他也仅能借着这微光,看到自己的双手和双臂挡着光的影子。可这是光啊!是光啊!Simon无声地笑了起来,他模糊的影子,斑斑驳驳地映射在这过道里。

  The tunnel opened out into another open gallery. As he looked up, astounded at the constellation of radiant mosses sprouting on the faraway ceiling, he felt a drop of cold water on his neck. More water drizzled slowly from above, each drop striking the rocks below with a sound like a tiny mallet falling on glass. The vaulting chamber was full of long pillars of stone, fat on either end, narrow in the middle; some were as slender as a hair's-breadth, like strands of oozing honey. As he trudged forward he realized, in some remote part of his battered mind, that most of this was the work of stone and dripping water, not of laboring hands. But still, there were lines in the dimness that did not seem natural: right-angled creases on the moss-girdled walls, ruined pillars among the stalagmites too orderly to be accidental. He was moving through a place that had once known something other than the ceaseless rhythm of water pattering in stone pools. Once it had echoed to other footsteps. But "once" only meant something if Time was still a barrier. So long had he been crawling in dark places, he might have dug through into the misty future or the shadowed past, or into unmapped realms of madness—how was he to know... ?

隧道向外延伸,进入另一处敞开的走廊。他抬起头向上看的时候,震惊地发现,在遥远的天花板上,那些发光的苔藓,如群星一般灿烂,他感到一滴冰凉的水,落到他的脖子上。更多的水,从上面慢慢如雨滴般洒落下来,每一滴水敲击着地上的岩石,所发出的响声,都如同一只细细的棒槌,敲打在玻璃上的声音。这个拱形的房间里,布了高高的石柱,这些石柱,分布在房间两端的,是粗的,分布在房间中间的,是细的;一些石柱,纤细得如同发丝,就象是渗出的蜂蜜的细丝。当他步履艰难地向前走的时候,他那已经混乱的思想中,那些埋在深处的智力意识到,之所以会有这样的情景,是由于滴水将石头打磨成这些形状,这绝不是出自人工雕刻。然而,这里仍有一些已经模糊不清的线条显示出,那不是自然力量所为:在这环绕着苔藓的墙壁上,有一些呈直角的缝隙,而那些石笋中间,有些损毁的石柱排列得实在是太整齐了,这一定是有意而为之。当他走过一处地方的时候,除了水滴不停地、有节奏地拍打在石头上的水坑,所发出来的声音以外,他还曾听到了别的什么动静。曾经,他听到了另外的脚步声,所发出的回声。而“曾经”一词,只是表示,他仍然不清楚具体的时间。他在黑暗的地方爬的时间,实在是太长太长了,他可能已经艰辛地穿过了黑暗,来到了笼罩着薄雾般、无法预知的未来,也可能是他仍然置身于布满了阴影的过去,或者是他已经到了疯狂的边缘——他怎么会知道自己目前处于哪种境况呢……?

  Putting his foot down, Simon felt a moment of shocking emptiness. He plunged into cold, wet blackness. His hands lit on the far edge as he fell, and the water proved only as deep as his knees. He thought some clawed thing clutched at his leg as he yanked himself back out onto the passageway, shaking from more than the cold. I don't want to die. I want the sun again. Poor Simon, his voices responded. Mad in the dark. Dripping, shivering, he limped on through the green-glimmered chamber, watching carefully for the empty blacknesses that next time might not be so shallow. Faint flickers, glowing pink and white, darted to and fro in the holes as he stepped across or made his way carefully around them. Fish? Shining fish in the deeps of the earth?

Simon把脚踏在地上,有那么一会儿,他震惊于脚下竟然踏空了。他一头扎进寒冷的、潮湿的黑暗中。他倒在地上的时候,两手伸出很远,而这下面的水,仅仅到他的膝盖。他觉得,有一些长着爪子的什么东西,抓住了他的腿,他猛然向后挺身,退回到过道上,身子颤抖着,当然并不仅仅是因为他觉得冷。我不想死。我想重新看到太阳。可怜的Simon,他脑子里又响起呓语声。他在这黑暗里疯了。他的身子滴着水,颤抖着,一跛一跛地穿过闪着绿光的房间,留神地看着周围浅浅的黑色,注意着观察,它会不会再变成深黑色。微弱的光线,闪着粉红、纯白的颜色,来来回回在石头上的小孔里照射着,他走路地时候,或是直接穿过这些光线,或是小心地绕过它们。鱼吗?是在这深深的地下、发着光的鱼吗?

  Now, as one large chamber opened into another, and another, the lines of hand-wrought things began to show more clearly beneath the cloak of moss and stone-drip. They made strange silhouettes in the dim half-light: crumbled spans that might once have been balconies, arched depressions matted in pallid moss that could have been windows or gateways. As he squinted, trying to make out details in the near-darkness, he began to feel his vision was slipping sideways, somehow—the overgrown shapes, smothered in shadow, seemed to simultaneously nicker with the lineaments they had once worn. From the corner of his eye he saw one of the shattered columns lining the gallery suddenly standing straight, a shining white thing carved with trains of graceful flowers. When he turned to stare, it was only a clump of broken stone once more, half-shrouded in moss and encroaching earth. The deep gloom of the chambers bent crazily at the corners of his sight, and his head pounded. The ceaseless sound of falling water now began to feel like hammerblows to his reeling mind. His voices came chittering back, revelers excited by wild music.

现在,他走过一处又一处开阔的房间,这些房间一个连着一个,他一路走来,在那些覆盖了苔藓,和被滴水打磨的石头的下面,露出了更多的手工制作的痕迹。在这阴影的光线里,这些手工的痕迹显露出奇怪的轮廓:那些崩塌的地方,曾经应当是阳台,那些遍布在黯淡的苔藓中,拱形的凹陷,曾经应当是窗户或者是门。他斜着眼睛看着,想要在这不是特别黑暗的光线中,对这些形状看得更清楚一些,而这时,他的目光却总是滑向一旁——他总是觉得,沉浸在黑暗中的那些辨认不清的形状,似乎面带着讥笑。他的眼角看到,走廊内部那些碎裂的石柱中,突然有一支柱子笔直地站立着,在那白色的柱子上,雕刻着优美的花瓣。当他转身凝视的时候,他所看到的,只不过是一堆碎石,柱子的一半,裹着苔藓和泥土。这些阴暗的房间,从他的眼角看上去,似乎疯狂地扭曲了,而他的脑袋里,似乎有人在里面敲击着。那些无休无止的滴水声,在思绪混乱的他听起来,如今变成了锤打的声音。他幻想中的呓语声,又开始嘁嘁喳喳响了起来,如同被狂野的音乐激起了亢奋之情的狂欢者。

  Mad! The boy is mad!

疯了!这孩子疯了!

  Have pity, he's lost, lost, lost...!

真可怜啊,他迷失了,迷失了,迷失了……!

  We will have it back, manchild! We will have it all back!

我们会把这一切夺回来的,人类的孩子!我们必然会夺回这一切!

  Mad mooncalf!

疯了的傻瓜!

  And as he passed down yet one more sloping tunnel he began to hear other voices in his head, voices he had not heard before, somehow both more real and more unreal than those which had long been his unwanted companions. Some of these shouted in languages that he did not know, unless he had glimpsed them in the doctor's ancient books.

然而,当他走过另一处倾斜的隧道的时候,他的脑海中响起了另一些声音,这样的声音他之前从未听到过,较之他在长时间的黑暗中听到的呓语声,更加地介于真实和虚幻之间。有一些声音所使用的语言,他听不懂,他只在大夫那些古老的书籍中看到过一眼。

  Ruakha, ruakha Asu'a!

(精灵语:快要死了,“遥望东方”这座城堡快要死了!)

  T'si e-isi'ha as-irigu!

(精灵语:东方的大门染上了鲜血!)

  The trees are burning! Where is the prince?! The witchwood is in flames, the gardens are burning!

树林在燃烧!王子到哪里去了?!魔杖在燃烧,花园在燃烧!

  The half-darkness was contorting around him, bending, as though he stood at the center of a spinning wheel. He turned and stumbled blindly down a passageway and into one more lofty hall, holding his agonized head in his hands. There was other,'different light here: thin blue beams angling down from cracks in the unseen ceiling above, light that pierced the darkness but illuminated nothing where it fell. He smelled more water, and strange vegetation; he heard men running, shouting, women crying and the ring of metal on metal. In the strange ahnost-blackness the sound of some terrible battle raged all around, but did not touch him. He screamed—or thought he did—but could not hear his own voice, only the ghastly din in his head.

在他的周围,透着光亮的黑暗扭曲着、蜿蜒着,仿佛他是站在一个纺车的中心。他转身,双手扶着头疼欲裂的脑袋,盲目地磕磕绊绊着,穿过一条过道,进入了另一个雄伟的大厅。在这里,又出现了另一种不同的亮光:从上面看不见的天花板上,斜斜地照射下纤细的蓝色微光,这种微光穿透了黑暗,可是光线照射到的地方,却无法让人看到那是些什么。他闻到了更明显的水的气息,也闻到了奇怪的植被的味道;他听到有些男人在跑,在叫,有些女人在哭,还听到金属之间的撞击声。在这奇怪的黑暗中,四周传来了可怕的战场的厮杀声,但是这些厮杀,却没有触碰到他。他尖叫了起来——也许是他想像着自己叫了起来——但他无法听到自己的声音,他所听到的,只是脑海里传出的恐怖的喧闹声。

  Then, as if to confirm his already certain madness, dim figures began to rush past in the blue-lanced darkness, bearded men with torches and axes chasing others more slender who bore swords and bows. All of them, pursuers and pursued, were as transparent and ill-defined as mist. None touched or saw Simon, although he stood squarely in their midst.

随后,似乎是为了确证他那已经无疑的疯狂,他开始看到一些暗影,在这穿透着蓝色光线的黑暗中,涌了出来,那是一群留着胡须的男人,他们拿着火把和斧子,在追杀另一群身材瘦小的、举着剑背着弓的人。这些人,无论是追杀者,还是逃跑者,都如薄雾一般透明,看不清楚。没有人碰到,或是看到Simon,虽然他就站在这些人的正中间。

 Jinguzul Aya'aif 0 Jingizu! came a wailing cry.

传来了一阵悲伤的叫声:悲伤!哦,悲伤!

  Kill the Sithi demons, harsher voices shouted. Put fire to their nest!

四周,响起刺耳的叫嚷声,杀死这些Sithi种族的恶魔。用火点燃他们的住处!

  Hands clutched tight over his ears could not keep the voices away. He stumbled forward, trying to escape the swirling shapes, and fell through a doorway, coming to rest at last on a flat landing of gleaming white stone. He could feel cushioning moss beneath his groping hands, but his eyes saw nothing but polished blankness. He crawled forward on his stomach, still trying to escape the horrible voices shrieking in pain and anger. His fingers felt cracks and pits, but still the stone looked as flawless as glass. He reached the Up and stared out across a great, level field of black emptiness which smelled of time and death and the patient ocean. An invisible pebble rolled from beneath his hand to fall silently for long moments and then splash in the depths below.

虽然两手紧紧捂住耳朵,可Simon仍然能听到周围的声音。他跌跌绊绊向前走去,想从这些旋涡般的影子中逃离,他跨过一个门口,最后,他倒在一处闪着微光的白色石头上休息。他的手指触碰到厚厚的苔藓,但是他的眼睛却只能看到一片黑暗。他向前爬着,仍然想要逃离这些恐怖的声音,那些声音充满了痛苦和愤怒,在他的周围不断地尖叫着。他的手指摸到了一些裂缝,一些小坑,但是,这石头看上去仍然如玻璃一样,毫无瑕疵。他爬到石头的顶端,凝注着一处巨大的水平面,这个黑色的平面,看上去一片虚无,散发着海水的气息,年代久远、死气沉沉的、极其平静。一只他看不见的小鹅卵石,从他的手下面滚到一旁,无声无息地坠落了很长时间,最后带着飞溅的声响,掉进了下面很深的地方。

Something large and white gleamed beside him. He lifted his heavy, aching head from the lip of the dark tarn and looked up. Scant inches from where he lay jutted the bottom steps of a great stone staircase, an upward-sweeping spiral that climbed away, mounting the side of the cavem and circling the underground lake to disappear at last into upper darkness. He gaped as an urgent, fractured memory pushed through the clamor in bis head. Stairs. Tan'za Stairs. Doctor said look for stairs.... He clambered forward, pulling himself up onto the cool, polished stone, and knew that he was mad beyond salvation, or had died and was trapped in some terrible netherworld. He was beneath the earth in final darkness: there could be no voices, no phantom warriors. There would be no light making the steps gleam before him like moonlit alabaster.

在他的旁边,有什么白色的巨大的东西在闪着光。他从这黑暗的湖边,抬起了沉重的、疼痛的脑袋,向上看去。就在距离他几英寸的地方,巨大的石梯的底层台阶,突现出来,这座石梯,螺旋式地向上方缠绕着、攀爬着,沿着这个洞穴的一边,通往上方,环绕着这个地下湖,最终消失在上面的黑暗中。他一时之间目瞪口呆,脑海深处的记忆碎片,冲破了虚弱的喧闹声,他想起来了。楼梯。Tan'za楼梯。大夫说过,让他找这个楼梯……。他向前爬去,爬上这寒冷的、光滑的石头,他知道自己是无可救药地发疯了,或者是已经死在这吓人的阴间了。他在这地底下,置身于最后的黑暗中:这黑暗可能会悄无声息,没有他想象中的士兵。这黑暗可能会没有光亮,来照亮他面前的石阶,使之洁白如月光。

  He began to climb, pulling himself up to the next high step with trembling, sweat-slippery fingers. As he mounted higher, sometimes standing, sometimes clawing his way up in a scrabbling crouch, he peered out from the stairs. The silent lake, a vast pool of shadow below him, lay at the bottom of a great circular hall, bigger by far than the foundry. The ceiling stretched immeasurably upward, lost in the blackness above with the top of the slender, beautiful white pillars ringing the chamber. A foggy, directionless light glinted on the sea-blue and jade-green walls, and touched the frames of high-vaulting windows that flickered now with an ominous crimson glare.

他开始向上爬去,用颤抖的、汗津津的手撑着自己的身体,爬到上一层阶梯。他一直向上爬着,有时直着身子,有时蜷缩着身子,挣扎着向上爬着,他从楼梯向四处张望。寂静的湖水,在他的下方呈现出巨大的阴影,这湖位于这巨大的圆形大厅的底部,比铸造厂宽阔得多。天花板,向上方无休无止地延伸着,最终消失在黑暗中,天花板消失的地方,那下面是纤细的、精美的白色石柱,环绕在一处房间周围。一道模糊不清、不知从哪里发出来的光线,在海蓝色、翠绿色的墙壁上闪烁,这光线,轻拂着高高拱起的窗框,现出猩红色的耀眼光芒。

  In the middle of the pearly mists, hovering above the silent lake, sat a dark, wavering shape. It cast a shadow both of wonder and of terror, and it filled Simon with inexpressible, pitying dread. Prince Ineluki! They come! The Northerners come! As this last impassioned cry echoed in the dark walls of Simon's skull, the figure at the room's center lifted its head. Gleaming red eyes bloomed in its face, cutting through the fog like torches. Jingizu. a voice breathed. Jingizu. So much sorrow. The crimson light flared. The shriek of death and fear rose from below like a great wave. At the center of it all, the dark figure lifted a long slender object and the beautiful chamber shuddered, shimmering like a shattered reflection, then fell away into nothingness. Simon turned away in horror, enveloped in a strangling pall of loss and despair.

在这珍珠般的薄雾的中间,飘浮在寂静的湖面上的,是一个黑色的、晃动的身形。这形体投射的影子,又令人惊奇,又令人恐惧,在Simon看来,它充满着无法表达的、让人悲怜的恐惧。Ineluki王子!他们来了!北方人来了!随着这最后一声充满激情的喊声,在Simon满是黑暗的脑海里回响,这时,房间正中的那个影子抬起了头。它模糊的脸上,有一双闪着红光的眼睛,如同火把般,穿透了迷雾。悲伤。一个几乎听不清的声音传了出来。悲伤。有那么多那么多的悲伤。这猩红色的光,闪烁着。死亡和恐惧从下方尖叫着升起,如同巨浪,席卷过来。在这巨浪的中心,这黑色的身影举起了一个细长的物体,这漂亮的房间震动起来,象是碎裂的倒影一样,波光起伏,随后,消失得无影无踪。Simon惊恐地转身,被包裹在一片失落和绝望之中,无法喘息。

  Something was gone. Something beautiful had been destroyed beyond retrieval. A world had died here, and Simon felt its failing cry embedded in his heart like a gray sword. Even his consuming fear was driven out by the terrible sadness that cut through him, bringing painful, shuddering tears from reservoirs that should have been long dry. Embracing the darkness, he lurched on up the endless climb, winding around the mighty chamber. The shadows and silence swallowed the dream-battle and the dream-chamber below him, bringing a black shroud to pull over his fevered mind.

有什么东西失去了。有什么美丽的东西,被催毁了,永远不会再回来了。这里的世界死去了,Simon觉得,它失败时的叫喊声,深深插*入*了自己的心里,就象是插*进*了一把灰色的剑。即使是他强烈的恐惧,也被这刺穿了他的极度悲伤驱散,带来的是痛苦的、颤抖的泪水,从长时间干涸的源头,流淌出来。拥抱着黑暗,他蹒跚着,环绕着这宏伟的房间,无休止地向上爬去。周遭的阴影,和寂静,吞没了他想象中的战争,也吞没了他脚下那个梦境中的房间,在他那思绪不断的头脑里,裹上了一层黑色。

  A million steps passed beneath his blind touch. A million years slid past as he traveled in the void, drowning in sorrow.

他在摸索中,已经走过了百万个台阶了。他在这空虚之中,沉浸在悲伤的情感下,爬着楼梯的时候,似乎已经过去了百万年。

  Darkness without and darkness within. The last thing he felt was metal beneath his fingers and fresh air on Bis face.
  
他走过这无穷无尽、无处不在的黑暗。终于,他觉察到,他的手指触碰到了金属,而这清新的空气,正在吹拂他的面颊。


#日志日期:2008-6-18 星期三(Wednesday) 晴 复制链接 举报



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