"Asprin, Robert - Myth 01 - Another Fine Myth (c)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)--->Another Fine Myth 0-441-02362-2 1978 Ace
2 Myth Conceptions 0-441-55521-7 1980 Ace 3 Myth Directions 0-441-55529-2 1982 Ace 4 Hit or Myth 0-441-33851-8 1983 Ace 5 Myth-ing Persons 0-441-55276-5 1984 Ace 6 Little Myth Marker 0-441-48499-9 1985 Ace 7 M.Y.T.H. Inc. Link 0-441-55277-3 1986 Ace 8 Myth-nomers & Im-pervections 0-441-55279-X 1987 Ace 9 M.Y.T.H. Inc. in Action 0-441-55282-X 1990 Ace 10 Sweet Myth-tery of Life 0-441-00194-7 1994 Ace 11 Something M.Y.T.H. Inc. Not yet released ? Ace ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter One: "There are things on heaven and earth, Horatio, Man was not meant to know." -HAMLET ONE of the few redeeming facets of instructors, I thought, is that occasionally they can be fooled. It was true when my mother taught me to read, it was true when my father tried to teach me to be a farmer, and it's true now when I'm learning magik. "You haven't been practicing!" Garkin's harsh admonishment interrupted my musings. "I have too!" I protested. "It's just a difficult exercise." As if in response, the feather I was levitating began to tremble and wobble in midair. "You aren't concentrating!" he accused. "It's the wind," I argued. I wanted to add "from your loud mouth," but didn't dare. Early in our lessons Garkin had demonstrated his lack of appreciation for cheeky apprentices. "The wind," he sneered, mimicking my voice. "Like this, dolt!" My mental contact with the object of my concentration was interrupted as the feather darted suddenly toward the ceiling. It jarred to a halt as if it had become imbedded in something, though it was still a foot from the wooden beams, then slowly rotated to a horizontal plane. Just as slowly it rotated on its axis, then swapped ends and began to glide around an invisible circle like a leaf caught in an eddy. I risked a glance at Garkin. He was draped over his chair, feet dangling, his entire attention apparently devoted to devouring a leg of roast lizard-bird, a bird I had snared I might add. Concentration indeed! He looked up suddenly and our eyes met. It was too late to look away so I simply looked back at him. "Hungry?" His grease-flecked salt and pepper beard was suddenly framing a wolfish grin. "Then show me how much you've been practicing." It took me a heartbeat to realize what he meant; then I looked up desperately. The feather was tumbling floor ward, a bare shoulder-height from landing. Forcing the sudden tension from my body, I reached out with my mind . . . gently . . . form a pillow . . . don't knock it away.... The feather halted a scant two hand-spans from the floor. |
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