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es; or were
these rooms and hallways truly this dark? How many days and weeks; how
much time did I have before going blind? My shadow and I stopped among
the ghosts in the kitchen and lifted up the pages from the clean corner of a
dusty cabi before quickly heading back。 Black had followed me as a
precaution; but he’d neglected to bring his dagger。 Would I; perchance;
consider taking up that dagger and blinding him before I myself went blind?
“I’m pleased that I will see this once again before going blind;” I said with
pride。 “I want you all to see it as well。 Look here。”
Under the light of the oil lamp; I showed them the final picture; which I’d
taken from Enishte’s house the day I killed him。 At first; I watched their
curious and timid expressions as they looked at the double…leaf picture。 I
circled around and joined them; and I was ever so faintly trembling as I stared。
The lancing of my eyes; or perhaps a sudden rapture; made me feverish。
The pictures we made on various parts of the two pages over the past
year—tree; horse; Satan; Death; dog and woman—were arranged; large and
small; according to Enishte’s albeit inept new method of position; in such
a way that the dearly departed Elegant Effendi’s gilding and borders made us
feel we were no longer looking at a page from a book but at the world seen
through a window。 In the center of this world; where Our Sultan should’ve
been; was my own portrait; which I briefly observed with pride。 I was
somewhat unsatisfied with it because after laboring in vain for days; looking
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