Avon Fantasy Reader No. 14 — page 26: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

leaving their home behind, the raining pillars, the caged flowers, the singing books, the whispering floor creeks. She did not look at her husband. She heard him crying out to the birds as they rose higher, like ten thousand hot sparkles, so many red-yellow fireworks in the heavens, tugging the canopy like a flower petal, burning through the wind. She didn’t watch the dead, ancient bone-chess cities slide under, or the old canals filled with emptiness and dreams. Past dry rivers and dry lakes they flew, like a shadow of the moon, like a torch burning. She watched only the sky. The husband spoke. She watched the sky. “Did you hear what I said?” “What?” He exhaled. “You might pay attention.” “T was thinking.” “IT never thought you were a nature lover, but you're certainly interested in the sky tonight,” he said. “It’s very beautiful.” “T was figuring,” said the husband slowly. “I thought I'd call Hulle to- night. I'd like to talk to him about us spending some time, oh, only a week or so, in the Blue Mountains. Its just an idea ? “The Blue Mountains!” She held to the canopy rim with onc hand, turning swiftly toward him. “Oh, it’s just a suggestion.” “When do you want to go?” she asked, trembling. “T thought we might leave tomorrow morning. You know, an early start and all that,” he said very casually. “But we never go this early in the year!” “Just this once, 1 thought ” He smiled. “Do us good to get away. Some peace and quiet. You know, You haven't anything e/se planned? We'll go, won't we?” She took a breath, waited, and then replied, “No.” “What?” His cry startled the birds. The canopy jerked. “No,” she said firmly. “It’s settled. I won't go.” He looked at her. They did not speak after that. She turned away. The birds flew on, ten thousand firebrands down the wind. In the dawn the sun, through the crystal pillars, melted the fog that sup ported Ylla as she slept. All night she had hung above the floor, buoyed by the soft carpeting of mist that poured from the walls when she lay down to rest. All night she had slept on this silent river, like a boat.upon a soundless tide. Now the fog burned away, the mist level lowered until she was deposited upon the shore of wakening. She opened her eyes. Her husband stood over her. He looked as if he had stood there for hours, watching. She did not know why, but she could not look him in the face. comicloooks.com