"Bard's Tale 03 - Prison of Souls - Mercedes Lackey & Mark Shepherd 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bard's Tale)

put up with all the nonsense.
"Well, what is it?" Alaire said, unable to stand
patiently any longer. Is it about me?
Naitachal flipped open the wax seal and read the
message quickly, at a glance. Then he looked up.
"Well?"
Naitachal's expression was neither grim nor dark-
ened, as it would be in response to bad news. It wasn't
quite neutral, either. Alaire quivered with barely
restrained excitement It's about me. It has to be!
Naitachal raised an eyebrow, then folded the paper
back up and returned it to the envelope. Then, as it lay
flat on his palm, the envelope burst into flame.
Startled, Alaire stepped back. He wasn't expecting
that.
Naitachal calmly brushed the ashes from his hands
and fixed Alaire with a measuring and unreadable
look.
'Tell me!" Alaire said, barely restraining himself.
The Dark Elf never became melodramatic, and burn-
ing the message like that required an exercise of
magics he seldom used
"Your father," Naitachal said, after a lengthy and
infuriating pause, "wants to send us on a little errand."
Without elaborating, Naitachal started back
towards the house.
For a moment Alaire stared at his retreating back.
Then, flustered, he hurried into the house after him.
Naitachal's study was usually a private place where
he wouldn't allow anyone, not even a maid. Alaire had
set foot in the study only six times in the years he lived
there, and then only because Naitachal had invited
him, when some royal crisis was a-brewing.
Now Naitachal stood at the door and beckoned
Alaire to follow. He cautiously followed his Master
into the mysterious den, shivering in its chill. The
place gave him the creeps.
The study had no windows, no source of light
besides a single black candle as big around as Alaire's
forearm. In the darkness the candle flared to life, illu-
minating Naitachal's face. Standing behind him was a
large shelf of ancient, dusty books, all in Elvish, which
had been in Naitachal's family gods only knew how
long. The Bard carefully pulled and examined the vol-
umes, which had no titles on the spines.
"We are going to Suinomen," Naitachal said flatly,
as he searched.
Suinomen, Alaire thought. He can't be serious!
The name conjured uneasy feelings. King Reynard
discouraged all his subjects, and particularly the royal