The way the strangely faded distant hills seemed to slide toward Rand when he looked straight at them made his head spin, unless he wrapped himself in the void. Sometimes the emptiness crept up on him unawares, but he avoided it like death. Better to be dizzy than share the void with that uneasy light. Better by far to stare at the faded land. Still, he tried not to look at anything too far away unless it lay right ahead of them.
Hurin wore a fixed2 look as he concentrated on sniffing3 the trail, as if he were trying to ignore the land the trail crossed. When the sniffer did notice what lay around them, he would give a start and wipe his hands on his coat, then push his nose forward like a hound, eyes glazing4, excluding everything else. Loial rode slumped5 in his saddle and frowned as he glanced around, ears twitching6 uneasily, muttering to himself.
Again they crossed land blackened and burned, even the soil crunching7 under the horses' hooves as if it had been seared. The burned swathes, sometimes a mile wide, sometimes only a few hundred paces, all ran east and west as straight as an arrow's flight. Twice Rand saw the end of a burn, once as they rode over it, once as they passed nearby; they tapered8 to points at the ends. At least, the ends he saw were so, but he suspected they were all the same.
Once he had watched Whatley Eldin decorate a cart for Sunday, back home in Emond's Field, What painting the scenes in bright colors, and the intricate scrollwork that surrounded them. For the borders, What let the point of his brush touch the cart, making a thin line that grew thicker as he pressed harder, then thinner again as he eased up. That was how the land looked, as if someone had streaked9 it with a monstrous11 brush of fire.
Nothing grew where the burns were, though some burns, at least, had the feel of a thing long done. Not so much as a hint of char12 remained in the air there, not a whiff even when he leaned down to break off a black twig13 and smell it. Old, yet nothing had come in to reclaim14 the land. Black gave way to green, and green to black, along knife-edge lines.
In its own way, the rest of the land lay as dead as the burns, though grass covered the ground and leaves covered the trees. Everything had that faded look, like clothes too often washed and too long left in the sun. There were no birds or animals, not that Rand saw or heard. No hawk15 wheeling in the sky, no bark of a hunting fox, no bird singing. Nothing rustled16 in the grass or lit on a tree branch. No bees, or butterflies. Several times they crossed streams, the water shallow, though often it had dug itself a deep gulley with steep banks the horses had to scramble17 down and climb on the other side. The water ran clear except for the mud the horses' hooves stirred, but never a minnow or tadpole18 wriggled19 out of the roiling20, not even a waterspider dancing across the surface, or a hovering21 lacewing.
The water was drinkable, which was just as well, since their waterbottles could not last forever. Rand tasted it first, and made Loial and Hurin wait to see if anything happened to him before he let them drink. He had gotten them into this; it was his responsibility. The water was cool and wet, but that was the best that could be said for it. It tasted flat, as if it had been boiled. Loial made a face, and the horses did not like it either, shaking their heads and drinking reluctantly.
There was one sign of life; at least, Rand thought it must be so. Twice he saw a wispy22 streak10 crawling across the sky like a line drawn23 with cloud. The lines were too straight to be natural, it seemed, but he could not imagine what might make them. He did not mention the lines to the others. Perhaps they did not see, Hurin intent on the trail as he was and Loial drawn in on himself. They said nothing of the lines, at any rate.
When they had ridden half the morning, Loial abruptly24 swung down from his huge horse without a word and strode to a stand of giantsbroom, their trunks splitting into many thick branches, stiff and straight, not a pace above the ground. At the top, all split again, into the leafy brush that gave them their name.
Rand pulled Red up and started to ask what he was doing, but something about the Ogier's manner, as if he himself were uncertain, kept Rand silent. After staring at the tree, Loial put his hands on a trunk and began to sing in a deep, soft rumble25.
Rand had heard Ogier treesong, once, when Loial had sung to a dying tree and brought it back to life, and he had heard of sung wood, objects wrought26 from trees by the treesong. The Talent was fading, Loial said; he was one of the few who had the ability, now; that was what made sung wood even more sought after and treasured. When he had heard Loial sing before, it had been as if the earth itself sang, but now the Ogier murmured his song almost diffidently, and the land echoed it in a whisper.
It seemed pure song, music without words, at least none that Rand could make out; if there were words, they faded into the music just as water pours into a stream. Hurin gasped28 and stared.
Rand was not sure what it was Loial did, or how; soft as the song was, it caught him up hypnotically, filling his mind almost the way the void did. Loial ran his big hands along the trunk, singing, caressing29 with his voice as well as his fingers. The trunk now seemed smoother, somehow, as if his stroking were shaping it. Rand blinked. He was sure the piece Loial worked on had had branches at its top just like the others, but now it stopped in a rounded end right above the Ogier's head. Rand opened his mouth, but the song quieted him. It seemed so familiar, that song, as if he should know it.
Abruptly Loial's voice rose to a climax30 - almost a hymn31 of thanks, it sounded - and ended, fading as a breeze fades.
"Burn me," Hurin breathed. He looked stunned32. "Burn me, I never heard anything like . . . . Burn me."
In his hands Loial held a staff as tall as he was and as thick as Rand's forearm, smooth and polished. Where the trunk had been on the giantsbroom was a small stem of new growth.
Rand took a deep breath. Always something new, always something I didn't expect, and sometimes it isn't horrible.
He watched Loial mount, resting the staff across his saddle in front of him, and wondered why the Ogier wanted a staff at all, since they were riding. Then he saw the thick rod, not as big as it was, but in relation to the Ogier, saw the way Loial handled it. "A quarterstaff," he said, surprised. "I didn't know Ogier carried weapons, Loial."
"Usually we do not," the Ogier replied almost curtly33. "Usually. The price has always been too high." He hefted the huge quarterstaff and wrinkled his broad nose with distaste. "Elder Haman would surely say I am putting a long handle on my axe34, but I am not just being hasty or rash, Rand. This place. . . ." He shivered, and his ears twitched35.
"We'll find our way back soon," Rand said, trying to sound confident. Loial spoke36 as if he had not heard. "Everything is . . . linked, Rand. Whether it lives or not, whether it thinks or not, everything that is, fits together. The tree does not think, but it is part of the whole, and the whole has a - a feeling. I can't explain any more than I can explain what being happy is, but . . . . Rand, this land was glad for a weapon to be made. Glad!"
"The Light shine on us," Hurin murmured nervously37, "and the Creator's hand shelter us. Though we go to the last embrace of the mother, the Light illumine our way." He kept repeating the catechism as if it had a charm to protect him.
Rand resisted the impulse to look around. He definitely did not look up. All it would take to break them all was another of those smoky lines across the sky right at that moment. "There's nothing here to hurt us," he said firmly. "And we'll keep a good watch and make sure nothing does."
He wanted to laugh at himself, sounding so certain. He was not certain about anything. But watching the others - Loial with his tufted ears drooping39, and Hurin trying not to look at anything - he knew one of them had to seem to be sure, at least, or fear and uncertainty40 would break them all apart. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. He squeezed that thought out. Nothing to do with the Wheel. Nothing to with ta'veren, or Aes Sedai, or the Dragon. It's just the way it is, that's all.
"Loial, are you done here?" The Ogier nodded, regretfully rubbing the quarterstaff. Rand turned to Hurin. "Do you still have the trail?"
"I do, Lord Rand. I do that."
"Then let's keep on with it. Once we find Fain and the Darkfriends, why, we'll go home heroes, with the dagger41 for Mat, and the Horn of Valere. Lead out, Hurin." Heroes? I'll settle for all of us getting out of here alive.
"I do not like this place," the Ogier announced flatly. He held the quarterstaff as if he expected to have to use it soon.
"As well we don't mean to stay here, then, isn't it?" Rand said. Hurin barked a laugh as if he had made a joke, but Loial gave him a level look.
"As well we don't, Rand."
Yet as they rode on southward, he could see that his casual assumption that they would get home had picked them both up a little. Hurin sat a bit straighter in his saddle, and Loial's ears did not seem so wilted42. It was no time or place to let them know he shared their fear, so he kept it to himself, and fought it by himself.
Hurin kept his humor through the morning, murmuring, "As well we don't mean to stay," then chuckling43, until Rand felt like telling him to be quiet. Toward midday, the sniffer did fall silent, though, shaking his head and frowning, and Rand found he wished the man was still repeating his words and laughing.
"Is there something wrong with the trail, Hurin?" he asked.
The sniffer shrugged44, looking troubled. "Yes, Lord Rand, and then again no, as you might say."
"It must be one or the other. Have you lost the trail? No shame if you have. You said it was weak to start. If we can't find the Darkfriends, we will find another Stone and get back that way." Light, anything but that. Rand kept his face smooth. "If Darkfriends can come here and leave, so can we. "
"Oh, I haven't lost it, Lord Rand. I can still pick out the stink45 of them. It isn't that. It's just. . . . It's. . . ." With a grimace46, Hurin burst out, "It's like I'm remembering it, Lord Rand, instead of smelling it. But I'm not. There's dozens of trails crossing it all the time, dozens and dozens, and all sorts of smells of violence, some of them fresh, almost, only washed out like everything else. This morning, right after we left the hollow, I could have sworn there were hundreds slaughtered47 right under my feet, just minutes before, but there weren't any bodies, and not a mark on the grass but our own hoofprints. A thing like that couldn't happen without the ground being torn up and bloodied48, but there wasn't a mark. It's all like that, my Lord. But I am following the trail. I am. This place just has me all on edge. That's it. That must be it."
Rand glanced at Loial - the Ogier did come up with the oddest knowledge, at times - but he looked as puzzled as Hurin. Rand made his voice more confident than he felt. "I know you are doing your best, Hurin. We are all of us on edge. Just follow as best you can, and we'll find them."
"As you say, Lord Rand." Hurin booted his horse forward. "As you say."
But by nightfall, there was still no sign of the Darkfriends, and Hurin said the trail was fainter still. The sniffer kept muttering to himself about "remembering."
There had been no sign. Really no sign. Rand was not as good a tracker as Uno, but any boy in the Two Rivers was expected to track well enough to find a lost sheep, or a rabbit for dinner. He had seen nothing. It was as if no living thing had ever disturbed the land before they came. There should have been something if the Darkfriends were ahead of them. But Hurin kept following the trail he said he smelled.
As the sun touched the horizon they made camp in a stand of trees untouched by the burn, eating from their saddlebags. Flatbread and dried meat washed down with flat-tasting water; hardly a filling meal, tough and far from tasty. Rand thought they might have enough for a week. After that . . . . Hurin ate slowly, determinedly49, but Loial gulped50 his down with a grimace and settled back with his pipe, the big quarterstaff close at hand. Rand kept their fire small and well hidden in the trees. Fain and his Darkfriends and Trollocs might be close enough to see a fire, for all of Hurin's worries about the oddness of their trail.
It seemed odd to him that he had begun to think of them as Fain's Darkfriends, Fain's Trollocs. Fain was just a madman. Then why did they rescue him? Fain had been part of the Dark One's scheme to find him. Perhaps it had something to do with that. Then why is he running instead of chasing me? And what killed that Fade? What happened in that room full of flies? And those eyes, watching me in Fal Dara. And that wind, catching51 me like a beetle52 in pine sap. No. No, Ba'alzamon has to he dead. The Aes Sedai did not believe it. Moiraine did not believe it, nor the Amyrlin. Stubbornly, he refused to think about it any longer. All he had to think about now was finding that dagger for Mat. Finding Fain, and the Horn.
It's never over, al'Thor.
The voice was like a thin breeze whispering in the back of his head, a thin, icy murmur27 working its way into the crevices53 of his mind. He almost sought the void to escape it, but remembering what waited for him there, he pushed down the desire.
In the half dark of twilight54, he worked the forms with his sword, the way Lan had taught, though without the void. Parting the Silk. Hummingbird55 Kisses the Honeyrose. Heron Wading56 in the Rushes, for balance. Losing himself in the swift, sure movements, forgetting for a time where he was, he worked until sweat covered him. Yet when he was done, it all came back; nothing was changed. The weather was not cold, but he shivered and pulled his cloak around him as he hunched57 by the fire. The others caught his mood, and they finished eating quickly and in silence. No one complained when he kicked dirt over the last fitful flames.
Rand took the first watch himself, walking the edges of the copse with his bow, sometimes easing his sword in its scabbard. The chill moon was almost full, standing58 high in the blackness, and the night was as silent as the day had been, as empty. Empty was the right word. The land was as empty as a dusty milk crock. It was hard to believe there was anyone in the whole world, in this world, except for the three of them, hard to believe even the Darkfriends were there, somewhere ahead.
To keep himself company, he unwrapped Thom Merrilin's cloak, exposing the harp59 and flute60 in their hard leather cases atop the many-colored patches. He took the gold-and-silver flute from its case, remembering the gleeman teaching him as he fingered it, and played a few notes of "The Wind That Shakes the Willow," softly so as not to wake the others. Even soft, the sad sound was too loud in that place, too real. With a sigh he replaced the flute and did up the bundle again.
He held the watch long into the night, letting the others sleep. He did not know how late it was when he suddenly realized a fog had risen. Close to the ground it lay, thick, making Hurin and Loial indistinct mounds61 seeming to hump out of clouds. Thinner higher up, it still shrouded62 the land around them, hiding everything except the nearest trees. The moon seemed viewed through watered silk. Anything at all could come right up to them unseen. He touched his sword.
"Swords do no good against me, Lews Therin. You should know that."
The fog swirled64 around Rand's feet as he spun65, the sword coming into his hands, heron-mark blade upright before him. The void leaped up inside him; for the first time, he barely noticed the tainted66 light of saidin.
A shadowy figure drew nearer through the mist, walking with a tall staff. Behind it, as if the shadow's shadow were vast, the fog darkened till it was blacker than night. Rand's skin crawled. Closer the figure came, until it resolved into the shape of a man, clothed and gloved in black, with a black silk mask covering his face, and the shadow came with it. His staff was black, too, as if the wood had been charred67, yet smooth and shining like water by moonlight. For an instant the eyeholes of the mask glowed, as if fires stood behind them rather than eyes, but Rand did not need that to know who it was.
"Ba'alzamon," he breathed. "This is a dream. It has to be. I fell asleep, and - "
Ba'alzamon laughed like the roar of an open furnace. "You always try to deny what is, Lews Therin. If I stretch out my hand, I can touch you, Kinslayer. I can always touch you. Always and everywhere."
"I am not the Dragon! My name is Rand al' - !" Rand clamped his teeth shut to stop himself.
"Oh, I know the name you use now, Lews Therin. I know every name you have used through Age after Age, long before you were even the Kinslayer." Ba'alzamon s voice began to rise in intensity68; sometimes the fires of his eyes flared69 so high that Rand could see them through the openings in the silk mask, see them like endless seas of flame. "I know you, know your blood and your line back to the first spark of life that ever was, back to the First Moment. You can never hide from me. Never! We are tied together as surely as two sides of the same coin. Ordinary men may hide in the sweep of the Pattern, but ta'veren stand out like beacon70 fires on a hill, and you, you stand out as if ten thousand shining arrows stood in the sky to point you out! You are mine, and ever in reach of my hand!"
"Father of Lies!" Rand managed. Despite the void, his tongue wanted to cleave71 to the roof of his mouth. Light, please let it be a dream. The thought skittered outside the emptiness. Even one of those dreams that isn't a dream. He can't really be standing in front of me. The Dark One is sealed in Shayol Ghul, sealed by the Creator at the moment of Creation . . . . He knew too much of the truth for it to help. "You're well named! If you could just take me, why haven't you? Because you cannot. I walk in the Light, and you cannot touch me!"
Ba'alzamon leaned on his staff and looked at Rand a moment, then moved to stand over Loial and Hurin, peering down at them. The vast shadow moved with him. He did not disturb the fog, Rand saw - he moved, the staff swung with his steps, but the gray mist did not swirl63 and eddy72 around his feet as it did around Rand's. That gave him heart. Perhaps Ba'alzamon really was not there. Perhaps it was a dream.
"You find odd followers73," Ba'alzamon mused74. "You always did. These two. The girl who tries to watch over you. A poor guardian75 and weak, Kinslayer. If she had a lifetime to grow, she would never grow strong enough for you to hide behind."
Girl? Who? Moiraine is surely not a girl. "I don't know what you are talking about, Father of Lies. You lie, and lie, and even when you tell the truth, you twist it to a lie."
"Do I, Lews Therin? You know what you are, who you are. I have told you. And so have those women of Tar1 Valon." Rand shifted, and Ba'alzamon gave a laugh, like a small thunderclap. "They think themselves safe in their White Tower, but my followers number even some of their own. The Aes Sedai called Moiraine told you who you are, did she not? Did she lie? Or is she one of mine? The White Tower means to use you like a hound on a leash76. Do I lie? Do I lie when I say you seek the Horn of Valere?" He laughed again; calm of the void or no, it was all Rand could do not to cover his ears. "Sometimes old enemies fight so long that they become allies and never realize it. They think they strike at you, but they have become so closely linked it is as if you guided the blow yourself."
"You don't guide me," Rand said. "I deny you."
"I have a thousand strings77 tied to you, Kinslayer, each one finer than silk and stronger than steel. Time has tied a thousand cords between us. The battle we two have fought-do you remember any part of that? Do' you have any glimmering78 that we have fought before, battles without number back to the beginning of Time? I know much that you do not! That battle will soon end. The Last Battle is coming. The last, Lews Therin. Do you really think you can avoid it? You poor, shivering worm. You will serve me or die! And this time the cycle will not begin anew with your death. The grave belongs to the Great Lord of the Dark. This time if you die, you will be destroyed utterly79. This time the Wheel will be broken whatever you do, and the world remade to a new mold. Serve me! Serve Shai'tan, or be destroyed forever!"
With the utterance80 of that name, the air seemed to thicken. The darkness behind Ba'alzamon swelled81 and grew, threatening to swallow everything. Rand felt it engulfing82 him, colder than ice and hotter than coals both at the same time, blacker than death, sucking him into the depths of it, overwhelming the world.
He gripped his sword hilt till his knuckles83 hurt. "I deny you, and I deny your power. I walk in the Light. The Light preserves us, and we shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand." He blinked. Ba'alzamon still stood there, and the great darkness still hung behind him, but it was as if all the rest had been illusion.
"Do you want to see my face?" It was a whisper.
Rand swallowed. "No."
"You should." A gloved hand went to the black mask.
"No!"
The mask came away. It was a man's face, horribly burned. Yet between the black-edged, red crevices crossing those features, the skin looked healthy and smooth. Dark eyes looked at Rand; cruel lips smiled with a flash of white teeth. "Look at me, Kinslayer, and see the hundredth part of your own fate." For a moment eyes and mouth became doorways84 into endless caverns85 of fire. "This is what the Power unchecked can do, even to me. But I heal, Lews Therin. I know the paths to greater power. It will burn you like a moth38 flying into a furnace."
"I will not touch it!" Rand felt the void around him, felt saidin. "I won't. "
"You cannot stop yourself."
"Leave - me - ALONE!"
"Power." Ba'alzamon's voice became soft, insinuating86. "You can have power again, Lews Therin. You are linked to it now, this moment. I know it. I can see it. Feel it, Lews Therin. Feel the glow inside you. Feel the power that could be yours. All you must do is reach out for it. But the Shadow is there between you and it. Madness and death. You need not die, Lews Therin, not ever again."
"No," Rand said, but the voice went on, burrowing87 into him.
"I can teach you to control that power so that it does not destroy you. No one else lives who can teach you that. The Great Lord of the Dark can shelter you from the madness. The power can be yours, and you can live forever. Forever! All you must do in return is serve. Only serve. Simple words-I am yours, Great Lord - and power will be yours. Power beyond anything those women of Tar Valon dream of, and life eternal, if you will only offer yourself up and serve."
Rand licked his lips. Not to go mad. Not to die. "Never! I walk in the Light," he grated hoarsely88, "and you can never touch me!"
"Touch you, Lews Therin? Touch you? I can consume you! Taste it and know, as I knew!"
Those dark eyes became fire again, and that mouth, flame that blossomed and grew until it seemed brighter than a summer sun. Grew, and suddenly Rand's sword glowed as if just drawn from the forge. He cried out as the hilt burned his hands, screamed and dropped the sword. And the fog caught fire, fire that leaped, fire that burned everything.
Yelling, Rand beat at his clothes as they smoked and charred and fell in ashes, beat with hands that blackened and shriveled as naked flesh cracked and peeled away in the flames. He screamed. Pain beat at the void inside him, and he tried to crawl deeper into the emptiness. The glow was there, the tainted light just out of sight. Half mad, no longer caring what it was, he reached for saidin, tried to wrap it around him, tried to hide in it from the burning and the pain.
As suddenly as the fire began, it was gone. Rand stared wonderingly at his hand sticking out of the red sleeve of his coat. There was not so much as a singe89 on the wool. I imagined it all. Frantically90, he looked around. Ba'alzamon was gone. Hurin shifted in his sleep; the sniffer and Loial were still only two mounds sticking up out of the low fog. I did imagine it.
Before relief had a chance to grow, pain stabbed his right hand, and he turned it up to look. There across the palm was branded a heron. The heron from the hilt of his sword, angry and red, as neatly91 done as though drawn with an artist's skill.
Fumbling92 a kerchief from his coat pocket, he wrapped it around his hand. The hand throbbed93, now. The void would help with that - he was aware of pain in the void, but he did not feel it - but he put the thought out of his head. Twice now, unknowing - and once on purpose; he could not forget that - he had tried to channel the One Power while he was in the void. It was with that that Ba'alzamon wanted to tempt94 him. It was that that Moiraine and the Amyrlin Seat wanted him to do. He would not.
收听单词发音 |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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glazing
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| n.玻璃装配业；玻璃窗；上釉；上光v.装玻璃( glaze的现在分词 )；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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tapered
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| adj. 锥形的，尖削的，楔形的，渐缩的，斜的 动词taper的过去式和过去分词 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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char
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| v.烧焦；使...燃烧成焦炭 | |
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twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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tadpole
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| n.[动]蝌蚪 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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roiling
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| v.搅混（液体）( roil的现在分词 )；使烦恼；使不安；使生气 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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wispy
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| adj.模糊的；纤细的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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24
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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36
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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38
moth
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| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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42
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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44
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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45
stink
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| vi.发出恶臭；糟透，招人厌恶；n.恶臭 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bloodied
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| v.血污的( bloody的过去式和过去分词 )；流血的；屠杀的；残忍的 | |
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determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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beetle
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| n.甲虫，近视眼的人 | |
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crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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hummingbird
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| n.蜂鸟 | |
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wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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73
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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76
leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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78
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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80
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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81
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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82
engulfing
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| adj.吞噬的v.吞没，包住( engulf的现在分词 ) | |
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83
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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84
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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85
caverns
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| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
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86
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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87
burrowing
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的现在分词 )；翻寻 | |
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88
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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89
singe
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| v.(轻微地)烧焦；烫焦；烤焦 | |
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90
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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91
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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92
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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93
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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