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22. W drodze na po³udnie

Sz³am za Larentith milcz±c. Co zreszt± mia³am powiedzieæ? Nie wiedzia³am co o tym wszystkim my¶leæ. Z jednej strony ba³am siê tego wszystkiego co nast±pi, tego wszystkiego nieznanego. Mia³am ochotê sprzeciwiæ siê, ale z jakiego¶ powodu by³am jakby odrêtwia³a. Z drugiej jednak, ciekawa by³am co nast±pi, a jaka¶ magiczna, nienaturalna si³a, kaza³a mi i¶æ dalej, nie zwa¿aj±c na jakiekolwiek w±tpliwo¶ci, wahania lub trudy. Najbardziej jednak trapi³o mnie to, co powiedz± rodzice. Na pewno siê teraz o mnie martwi±, a oko³o 50 aurorów, w tym zapewe wujek Harry, szukaj± mnie po ca³ej Kuli Ziemskiej. A ja nawet nie wiem gdzie jestem!
Po raz setny dzisiejszego dnia, wpad³am po pas w lodowat± zaspê ¶nie¿n±. Jêknê³am cicho, a Larentith, tak jak 99 razy wcze¶niej, poci±gnê³a mnie mocno za rêkê, pomagaj±c mi wydostaæ siê z zaspy. Moje niedoschniête po ostatnim upadku ubranie, by³o jeszcze bardziej mokre. Przez niepohamowany nat³ok dziwnych my¶li i w ogóle przez to wszystko, chcia³o mi siê krzyczeæ i wo³aæ o pomoc. Nie chcia³am jednak okazywaæ s³abo¶ci, skoro to ju¿ mnie musieli wybraæ. Moja duma nie pozwala³a na to.
Zbli¿a³a siê szósta po po³udniu. Larentith, gestem nakaza³a spoczynek. Roz³o¿y³y¶my dwa koce pod jakim¶ bezlistnym drzewem, a Czarnow³osa zrêcznie rozpali³a ognisko. Nawet nie zauwa¿y³am czy u¿ywa³a czarów. Rozejrza³am siê po okolicy. Zatrzyma³y¶my siê przy jakim¶ za¶nie¿onym teraz stoku. Sta³y tu bardzo blisko siebie dwa go³e drzewa, w zasadzie po³±czone od którego¶ momentu w jedno i to przy nim w³a¶nie rozbi³y¶my nasz obóz. Niedaleko widaæ by³o niekoñcz±ce siê pasmo gór, czê¶ciowo pokrytych ¶niegiem. Nigdzie nie by³o ani jednego centymetra kwadratowego zieleni. Je¿eli gdzie¶ w oddali pojawia³y siê jakie¶ drzewa, to przewa¿nie by³y bezlistne, go³e i smutne.
Spojrza³am na bezchmurne, ale jak¿e zimne niebo. Nad górami kr±¿y³ jaki¶ ptak. S±dz±c po wielko¶ci i kolorze, by³ to zapewnie sokó³. Ale nie jestem pewna, nie do koñca znam siê na tym.
Nagle otworzy³am szeroko usta ze zdumienia, zdziwienia i zachwytu. Zachodz±ce w tej chwili s³oñce, kry³o siê cudownie za ogromnymi górami. Rzuca³o przy tym tak piêkne barwy, ¿e nie mog³am od nich oderwaæ wzroku. Za¶nie¿one góry sk±pane by³y w ró¿u, ciemnej ¿ó³ci oraz czerwieni. Wygl±da³o to trochê tak, jakby te „kolosy” p³onê³y w igraj±cym, nieznanym ogniu... Wtem, wszystko usta³o. Zrobi³o siê ciemno jak w nocy (pardon, w³a¶nie nasta³a noc), a jedynym ¼ród³em ¶wiat³a by³o ¶redniej wielko¶ci ognisko.
Poczu³am g³o¶ne burczenie w brzuchu. Z przera¿eniem pomy¶la³am, ¿e nie mamy nic do jedzenia. Zrezygnowana, wrêcz pora¿ona t± my¶l±, usiad³am na kocu trzês±c siê z zimna i zapyta³am Larentith:
- Mamy co je¶æ?
Dziewczyna u¶miechnê³a siê do mnie pogodnie, podesz³a bli¿ej do drzewa, zapuka³a w nie trzy razy, w³o¿y³a obie rêce do powsta³ej w nim przed chwil± dziupli, i ju¿ po chwili siedzia³a przy mnie z jakim¶ tobo³kiem w rêce. Rozwi±za³a go i rodzieli³a porcje jedzenia. Nie chcê byæ niewdziêczna, bo w koñcu by³am okropnie g³odna, ale to jedzenia by³o mocno dziwne. Zupe³nie niepodobne do „naszego”. Dwa rodzaje ¶miesznych, ususzonych str±czków czego¶tam, okr±g³e, niebeskawe kuleczki, kszta³tem i wielko¶ci± przypominaj±ce nasze ziemniaki i.... li¶cie!
Spojrza³am na Larentith z zak³opotaniem, lecz ona nic sobie z tego nie robi³a tylko wyci±gnê³a dwa no¿e z paska, przywi±zanego do jej sukni (tak na marginesie, to dziwn± tutaj maj± modê). Jeden mi poda³a, a na drugi nabi³a sobie niebieskie kulki i li¶cie, i zaczê³a piec to nad ogniskiem. Posz³am w jej ¶lady. Muszê przyznaæ, ¿e pomimo wygl±du, to by³o to ca³kiem smaczne i syc±ce. Chocia¿ z drugiej strony, smak tego trudno zdefiniowaæ. Str±czki te¿ nie by³y z³e – jedne jad³o siê normalnie, a zdrugich wyci±ga³o siê s³odki mi±¿sz, który, jakim¶ cudem gasi³ pragnienie.
U³o¿y³am siê do snu, przykrywaj±c po koniuszki w³osów trzema kocami, a mówi±c ¶ci¶lej, zawijaj±c siê w nie jak „baleron”.
Obudzi³am siê o ¶wicie. Larentith w³a¶nie gasi³a ognisko. Ku mojemu zdumieniu nie by³o najmniejszego ¶ladu po ¶niegu. Wrêcz przeciwnie – s³oñce grza³o tak mocno, ¿e my¶la³am, ¿e jest oko³o 45ºC. Drzewo przy którym spa³y¶my by³o piêknie zielone, z mas± li¶ci na sobie. ¯a³owa³am teraz, ¿e nie mam przy sobie ¿adnej bluzki z krórkim rêkawkiem. Przypomnia³y mi siê s³owa Czarnow³osej: „Codziennie mamy inn± porê roku...” Zaryzykowa³am i zapyta³am:
- Larentith, czy nie mog³aby¶ zastukaæ w to drzewo po raz kolejny, ale tak, abym mog³a mieæ... to jest dostaæ... to znaczy... co¶ w stylu krótkiej bluzki? Czarnow³osa u¶miechnê³a siê tak, jakby zaraz mia³a wybuch±æ niekontrolowanym ¶miechem. Nie zrobi³a jednak tego, tylko pokrêci³a z politowaniem g³ow±, nakazuj±c mi skinieniem rêki kontynuowaæ przerwany wczoraj marsz.
Oko³o po³udnia by³y¶my ju¿ u podnó¿a gór – ja zziajana i spocona, Larentith ¶wie¿utka, no albo prawie ¶wie¿utka. Z przestrachem zauwa¿y³am, ¿e moja towarzyszka wkracza zag³êbia siê w górskie prze³êcze bez ani jednej widocznej dró¿ki , nie my¶l±c nawet o zagro¿eniu i o tym czy my siê stamt±d wydostaniemy. Mój strach wzi±³ górê nad dum± i krzyknê³am do niej:
- Co ty robisz?! Z ca³ym szacunkiem, ale czy¶ ty zwariowa³a?! Przecie¿ mo¿emy siê tu zgubiæ, b³±dziæ miesi±cami, mo¿e wcale st±d nie wyjdziemy! Nie ma innej drogi?! B³agam, proszê, powiedz, ¿e jest!
Ona jednak rzuci³± mi karc±ce spojrzenie, dok³adnie takie samo jak profesor McGonagall, gdy jest z³a i kaza³a mi i¶æ za sob±. No i co ja mia³am zrobiæ? Chc±c, nie chc±c, pos³usznie posz³am za ni±. Zdawa³a siê tak pewna siebie...
No i znowu przypomnia³a mi siê McGonagall... My¶l±c o niej zrobi³o mi siê tak ciep³o na sercu... Czy ja j± jeszcze kiedy¶ zobaczê? – zastanawia³am siê w duchu. Szybko siê jednak z tego otrz±snê³am. - Nie mogê siê za³amywaæ. – wmawia³am sobie. – Muszê byæ dzielna. Ju¿ i tak przysporzy³am sobie nie lada wstydu, krzycz±c tak w tym ogromniastych górach. Ciekawe co by na to wszystko i na takie moje zachowanie powiedzia³a mama... Stop! Roxanne Weasley, STOP! Je¶li zaraz nie przestaniesz wspominaæ tego wszystkiego i u¿alaæ siê nad sob±, to siê rozbeczysz! Jeste¶ tak zwan± mugolsk± beks±? Oczywi¶cie, ¿e nie! Jeste¶ dzieln± czrownic±, która sobie poradzi! S£YSZYSZ?! PORADZI!!! A’ propos czarownicy, to czy tutaj te¿ obowi±zuje mnie zakaz u¿ywania czarów?
Tak karc±c siebie, przypominaj±c rodzinê i Hogwart, i znowu karc±c siebie za te nieodpowiednie w tym momencie my¶li, dosz³y¶my na szczyt której¶ z gór. Przystanê³am oniemia³a. Tutaj unosi³ siê marmurowy pa³ac z wielk± z³ot± kopu³a na samej górze. Nie wiedzia³am co powiedzieæ. To by³o po prostu piêkne i bajeczne! Nie do opisania! Zachwyt odebra³ mi mowê, strach i zmartwienia gdzie¶ ulecia³y.
Larentith poci±gnê³a za srebrny, misternie pleciony i zdobiony sznur. Us³ysza³am g³o¶ne bicie bêbna, obwieszczaj±ce zapewne nasze przybycie. Po chwili, wyszed³ do nas jaki¶ przygarbiony staruszek z siw± brod± i okularami na nosie, i powita³ nas:
- Witajcie, Larentith, Roxanne. – wymawiaj±c nasze imona skin±³ nam g³ow±. Ale sk±d on zna³ moje imiê?! – B±d¼cie pozdrowione w Karantahamulu, siedzibie Rady Starszych.

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