"Asprin, Robert - Another Fine Myth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

Thief, Idiot, Turnip-Head, though derogatory, as long
as he used one of these, his mind was still open. Once he
reverted to using my proper name, it was hopeless. It is
indeed a sorry state when the sound of your own name

becomes a knell of doom.

Well, if there was no way around it, I'd just have to
give it my best shot. For this there could be no half-
effort or feigned concentration. I would have to use
every ounce of my strength and skill to summon the

power.

I studied the candle with a detached mind, momen-
tarily blanking the effort ahead from my consciousness.
The room, the cluttered workbench, Garkin, even my
own hunger faded from view as I focused on the candle,
though I had long since memorized its every feature.

It was stout, nearly six inches across to stabilize its
ten-inch height. I had carved numerous mystic symbols
into its surface, copied painstakingly from Garkin's
books at his direction, though many of them were par-
tially obliterated by hardened rivulets of wax. The can-
dle had burned many long hours to light my studies, but
it had always been lit from a taper from the cooking fire
and not from my efforts.

Negative thought. Stop it.

I will light the candle this time. I will light it becaus,.

there is no reason I should not.
Consciously deepening my breathing, I began to

gather the power. My world narrowed further until all
I was aware of was the curled, blackened wick of the

candle.

I am Skeeve. My father has a farmer's bond with the

earth. My mother was an educated woman. My teacher

is a master magician. I am Skeeve. I will light this can-
dle.

I could feel myself beginning to grow warm as the
energies began to build within me. I focused the heat on