Grappling with her fear, Toria tried to get angry. “Oh, you! Tell me, why should I have to bother with such a drunken brute?”
She leaned over his face, trying and wishing to catch the thick smell of wine. But the smell was not there, and Toria was not so naïve as to not understand that Egert was indeed sober.
Then she lost courage. It seemed most natural to run to her father for help, and she had already taken a few steps away to do so, but then she returned. Somehow she knew without a doubt that leaving Egert now would mean his death. Her father would not make it here before the turmoil of the holiday devoured the lifeless Egert, and the city guards would haul his mutilated body to the university in the morning.
Gritting her teeth with a vengeance, she pressed her fingers to Egert’s temples. The skin was hot and his veins twitched in time with the beating of his heart: at least he was alive. Toria took a deep breath and methodically, just as her father had taught her, began to knead and massage Egert’s neck and the back of his head.
“Egert, come back. Wake up, please.… What am I going to do if you don’t wake up?”
Her fingers grew numb and refused to keep working, but Egert’s eyes remained as lifeless as before. Her ever-increasing certainty that Egert was lost in his mind caused Toria to be covered in chills.
“No,” she muttered, “this is too … Don’t do this, Egert, don’t you do this!”
Dozens of tramping, staggering feet were whirling all around, and someone was bawling out an indecent song that rose up even louder than the universal din.
Toria was ready to start crying when the wide gray eyes finally flickered. The eyelids fell down on them and instantly flew up again. Now Egert was looking, dense and dazed, at Toria.
“Egert,” she said promptly, “we need to go home. Do you understand me?”
His lips moved soundlessly; then they moved again. The words barely carried to the girl. “Who are you?”
She broke out into a sweat: could he really have lost his mind from the shock he experienced on the square? “I’m Toria,” she whispered in dismay. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Egert’s swollen eyelids fell once more, screening his eyes. “There are such stars in the sky,” he said quietly.
“No,” she took him by the shoulders again. “That’s wrong.… No sky, no stars. I’m Toria, and my father is the dean. Remember, Egert!”
The last word turned, broke into a sob, and Egert raised his eyes. His gaze turned strangely warm. “I … I’m not crazy. You … don’t be afraid, Toria. Stars … constellations, like the beauty marks … on your neck.”
Toria involuntarily put her hand to her neck.
Egert moved his lips again. “They’re singing.…”
A discordant, drunken song rang out somewhere nearby. A squeaking could be heard from the nearest roof: a reveler, who had somehow managed to get up there, was resolutely unscrewing a weathervane.
“Is it night?” asked Egert.
Toria took a breath. “Yes. Today was the Day of Jubilation.”
Egert’s eyes dimmed. “I did not find … didn’t find … Now I won’t find … Never…”
“The Wanderer?” Toria asked in a whisper.
Egert moved with difficulty and sat up, supporting himself against the wall. He nodded slowly.
“But he’ll come again next year,” she said as casually as possible.
Egert shook his head. “A whole year. I won’t live through it.” In his words there was not a drop of theatrics, only a calm conviction.
Toria suddenly came to her senses. “Egert, we need to leave. Get up! Let’s go.”
Without moving from his spot, he gravely shook his head. “I can’t … I’ll stay here.… You … go.”
“You mustn’t,” she tried to speak as convincingly and gently as possible. “You mustn’t, Egert. You’ll be trampled underfoot here, let’s go.”
“But I really can’t,” he explained, amazed, and he continued without transition, as if pondering the problem. “A beetle without wings. He was without wings.… Going back … impossible. Stay inside, Mama.… Why did it go wrong? The dead … probably … don’t walk. Impossible to go back…”
His eyes once again clouded over. Panicking, Toria began to shake his limp shoulders with all her strength. “You are alive! Alive! Egert! Get up, now!”
“Toria,” he whispered distantly, “Tor-i-a … What a name! I’m alive. No, not that. Toria…” He stretched out his palms, folded together. “This could be a butterfly.… It settled on my hand … like a gift … once in my life … And I killed it, Toria … then, in Kavarren. I killed … him. And I killed myself because…” He separated his fingers, as if letting unseen sand flow through them. “… because I lost … Toria.” He slumped backwards weakly.
She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“Is it really you?” he asked in a whisper. “Or is all just … Will they meet me there?”
Frightened, Toria said, “No. It’s me.”
He tentatively stretched out his hand and carefully touched her cheek. “I never had anything so … Poor Egert. The sky is empty, not a single star … Nothing … real … only Toria alone … nothing else. The road is hot, sun … I am alone … I don’t need to live. I’m … there. Thank you … that I saw you,” His hand fell. “Thank you, sweet Toria.…”
“Egert,” she whispered in fear.
“So bitter,” he said, lowering his eyelids. “A necklace of stars … I wronged you so. Never in my life … Forgive…”
He flinched. He opened his eyes.
“Toria. A square of murderers. Murderers on the block, murderers in the square, and I’m a murderer … Heads, eyes, teeth, mouths … Why does no one want to finish me!” He suddenly jerked, almost stood up, and then once again fell down, subsided, went limp.
“Egert,” she said desolately, “you must not think about that right now. If you don’t get up right this second I don’t know what I’ll do.” And, in truth, she did not know.
“Leave,” he replied, without opening his eyes. “All kinds of people … on the streets. Holiday … night. They will want … If they want to hurt you, I won’t be able to save you, Toria. I will stand by and watch … And I won’t be able to help … Leave.” He raised his eyelids and Toria met his hopeless, gentle, pain-filled gaze.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me!” she rapped out, trying to speak past the strange feeling that suddenly squeezed her by the throat. “I’ll take care of myself. Now, get up!”
Whether her voice had gained an especially imperative intensity or whether Egert had somehow finally recovered his senses, he tried to do as she commanded, but only with their combined efforts could they stand Egert’s heavy, clumsy body on his feet. Toria offered her neck. Egert’s arm now lay across her shoulders, and even through the coarse fabric of her dress, the girl could feel how his arm stiffened, wary of causing her pain.
“Yes, be brave,” she whispered, trying to stand more steadily. “Hold on, Egert. It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
Walking turned out to be more difficult that she had thought. Egert’s legs did not work very well. Despairing, she finally gasped, “No, this will not do! I am going to run to the university. I’ll get help.”
Egert immediately sagged down onto the pavement, and Toria could hardly keep her balance. Experiencing a strange unease, she repeated as confidently as she could, “I’ll be quick. It’s really not all that far. You’ll wait for me, yes?”
He lifted up his head.
Toria caught sight of his eyes and sank down next to him. “Egert, I’m not abandoning you. I’ll get people, my father will help. Egert, I am not abandoning you, I swear.”