"Canavan, Trudi (Black Magician 03)-The High Lord v1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Canavan Trudi)

She paused. "Yes."
Cery nodded. "Or," he said slowly, "you'll wait a few days and kill someone yourself."
Her gaze became steely. "Then have your tags watch me. I will stay in my room and have food brought to me."
"We both need to prove ourselves right-sided," he told her. "You came to me, so you do the proving first. I'll put a watcher on you now, and we'll have a chat once this man has done his deed. Happy with that?"
She nodded once. "Yes."
"Wait in the first room. I'll set things out, and have a friend take you back to your place."
He watched, taking in as much detail as possible, as she walked to the door. Her clothes were plain, neither shabby nor expensive. The heavy shirt and trousers were typical of common Kyralians, but from the way she walked he doubted she had been ordered about much in her life. No, this one did the ordering.
Gol returned to the room promptly after she had left, his face tight with the effort of hiding his curiosity.
"Put four tags on her," Cery told him. "I want to know every move she makes. Keep an eye on whoever brings anything to her, food or otherwise. She knows she's going to be watched, so let her see two of the tags."
Gol nodded. "Want to see what she was carrying?"
He held out a bundle of cloth. Cery regarded it with mild surprise. She had offered to kill the murderers, he reasoned. I doubt she plans to do it with her bare hands. He nodded.
Gol carefully unrolled the cloth on the desk. Cery chuckled as he saw the array of knives and daggers. He picked them up one by one, testing their weight. Some were etched with unusual designs and symbols, some with gems set into
the metal. He sobered. Sachakan, most likely. He set the largest of the jeweled ones aside, then nodded to Gol.
"Give them back."
Gol nodded, then rolled up the bundle and took it out of the room. When the door had closed, Cery leaned back in his chair and considered this strange woman. If everything she had said proved true, she could be as useful as she claimed.
If she was lying? He frowned. Was it possible a Thief had sent her? She had mentioned speaking to the "other Thieves." He could not think of a good reason for one to interfere, however. Time must be spent considering all the possibilities. He would be questioning his watchers closely.
And should I tell him? Cery thought. To communicate anything other than the arranged coded messages would require a meeting, and he was not about to arrange one unless it was absolutely necessary. Was this important enough?
A Sachakan woman who had contacts in her homeland. Of course it was.
But something made Cery pause. Perhaps he should wait and see if she proved herself useful first. And he had to admit, he didn't like consulting someone else every time he changed his tactics slightly. Even if he did owe that someone a great debt.
It was time he came up with a few strategies of his own.
As Sonea waited for Warrior class to begin she closed her eyes and rubbed them, then fought off the urge to yawn. She had finished Coren's diary late in the night, drawn on by the architect's recollections and half afraid that, if she left it there unfinished, she might return the next night to find it gone and never know how the story ended.
As the night turned to the earliest hours of morning, she had read the final entry:
I have decided. When the foundations of the University are complete I will secretly bury the chest, with all its contents, in the soil beneath it. Along with those terrible truths will go my own, in the physical form of this book. Perhaps, by carrying out this act of concealment, I will finally smother this nagging guilt at what I have learned and used.
If I had the courage, I would destroy the chest and its contents, but I fear to judge differently from those who placed it in the ground in the first place. They were most definitely wiser men than I.
The chest must have been rediscovered, however, or she would not have had Coren's diary in her hands. What had happened to the rest of the books? Did Akkarin have them?
Or was the diary a fake, created by Akkarin to persuade the Guild that black magic was not as bad as it was thought to be? He might be testing it on her, to see if it would convince her.
If that were so, then he had made a mistake. Coren had believed that black magic was wrong. Reading the account, whether fictional or not, was not going to persuade anyone otherwise.
If it was real, why had Akkarin given it to her? Sonea frowned down at her notebook. He would not have allowed her to know of its existence on a whim. He must have a reason.
What had he revealed to her? That Coren had used black magic and that it had led him to discover how to manipulate stone. That another magicianЧa famous magicianЧhad committed the same crime as he. Perhaps Akkarin wanted her to consider that he, too, might have learned it against his better judgment. Perhaps he wanted her sympathy and understanding.
Coren hadn't held a novice hostage to keep his crimes secret, however.
Would he have, if he had been faced with losing his powers, position, or even his life, as punishment? Sonea shook her head. Perhaps Akkarin simply wanted to destroy whatever illusions she might have of the famous figure that Coren was.
The sudden appearance of Lord Makin interrupted her thoughts. The teacher placed a large box on the front desk, then faced the class.
"Today I will be teaching you about illusion," the Warrior told them. "And how it is used in battle. The most important thing to remember with illusion is this: it is all about deception. An illusion cannot harm you, but it can lead you into danger. I'll demonstrate this with a story."
Makin moved to his chair and sat down, folding his hands on the table. All sounds of boots scuffing the floor or novices shifting in their seats ceased. Lord Makin's stories were always interesting.
"Our histories tell us that, five centuries ago, two brothers lived in the Elyne mountains. Grind and Lond were both magicians skilled in battle. One day a caravan of travellers passed, led by a merchant named Kamaka. His daughter, a beautiful young woman, travelled with him. The two brothers saw the caravan and descended from their mountain home to buy goods. When they laid eyes on Kamaka's daughter they both fell instantly in love."
Makin sighed and shook his head sadly, gaining smiles from the novices. "An argument ensued between them over who would have the girl. The two brothers could not resolve their dispute with words, so they began to fight each other. It is said the battle continued for days (which is unlikely) and the brothers found themselves evenly matched in strength and skill. It was Grind who broke the stalemate. Seeing that his brother stood by a cliff on which was poised a large boulder, he contrived that this boulder should fall, but preceded it with another, illusory boulder.
"Lond saw his brother staring at something above his head. He looked up to see a boulder falling toward him, and instantly dismissed it as the illusion it was. Of course he did not see the second boulder, which was concealed behind the illusory one.
"Grind had expected his brother to detect the deception. When he realized he had killed his own brother, he became distracted with grief. The caravan was able to continue on its way, taking Kamaka's daughter with it. So you see," Makin finished, "while illusions cannot hurt you, allowing yourself to be deceived by them might."
The Warrior rose. "How do you make illusions? That is what I will be teaching you today. We will start by copying the objects I have brought with me. Seno, come to the front of the class."
Sonea listened as the magician explained different ways of creating an image of something with magic, and watched as
Seno followed the teacher's instructions. When the demonstration was finished, Seno passed Sonea's desk on the way to his own. He looked at Sonea and smiled. She let the corner of her mouth curl upward in response. He had been particularly friendly toward her since a Warrior practice session some weeks before, in which she had taught him a trick that weaker magicians could use against stronger ones.
As the lesson continued, she turned her mind to learning the illusion techniques. Just when she had managed to form an illusion of a pachi fruit something appeared in the air in front of her.
It was a flower, the petals made of bright orange autumn leaves. She reached out and her fingers passed through the strange blossom. It shattered into a thousand sparks of light that spun in a quick dance before vanishing.
"Well done!" Trassia exclaimed.
"It wasn't me." Sonea turned to see Seno grinning at her, an orange leaf lying on the table in front of him.
At the front of the class, Lord Makin cleared his throat loudly. Sonea turned back to see the teacher regarding her sternly. She shrugged to protest her innocence. He looked pointedly at the fruit in front of her.
She concentrated until an illusory copy appeared beside it. It was a redder shade than it ought to be, and the texture of its skin was suspiciously like the veins of a leaf. She sighed. It would be easier if she didn't have a memory of autumn leaves so fresh in her mind. She pushed away her annoyance. Seno hadn't intended to distract her. He'd just been showing off.
But why flaunt his success to her and no one else? Surely he wasn't trying to impress her.
Or was he?
She resisted the temptation to turn and see what he was doing. Seno was a cheerful boy, talkative and easy to like, and she was probably the only Kyralian girl who didn't tower over him ...