"Debra Doyle & James MacDonald - Mageworlds 05 - The Long Hunt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

Rosselin-Metadi.
She thought about it while she talked in the practice yard with Mistress Yarro, deciding on the
quarterly schedule of instruction for the senior apprentices. She thought about it while she was closeted in
the lesser pantry with Master Enolt, planning the Retreat's long-term food purchases. And she thought
about it in half a dozen other corners of the ancient citadel, in between dealing with a host of smaller
matters that would otherwise have claimed too much of the Guild Master's attention.
The basic problem remained intractable. She was somehow supposed to shadow and
protect-and at all costs to keep away from Khesat-a pair of young men well past the age when they
would tolerate such protection.
How to begin? She rubbed her forehead, where the beginnings of a headache had begun to
gather. I can't see calling up Maraghai and asking Owen's brother if his boys are still
at homeтАж what am I supposed to tell him if they are? "Don't let them go to Khesat"? As
soon as the kids get wind of that-and they will, they always do!-Khesat's going to be the first
place they'll want to go.
And that's if they're home. If they've leftтАж
Definitely, a headache. The only person she'd ever heard of who'd successfully tracked a lost
object outside of local planetary space was Llannat Hyfid, the First of all the Mage-Circles. Rumor had it
that Errec Ransome had done something similar in his youth-but the subsequent careers of both those
individuals gave her pause.
One of them a turncoat, she thought, and the other a traitor and a madman. And both of
them more powerful by a long way than Klea Santreny.
She went to bed early that night, nursing her headache. Sleep eluded her in spite of all her efforts.
She was still awake when a messenger found her several hours later, with the news that the Second of
the Mage-Circles had crossed the old border zone, and appeared to be headed for Maraghai. In theory,
the border was now open, and Mageworlders could come and go as they pleased. Klea didn't care
much for the idea. She'd killed Mages with her own hands, back during the Second War, while other
Mages had tried to kill her, and she didn't have a forgiving nature about such things.
She pushed herself to her feet and addressed the messenger. "Tell Master Rosselin-Metadi that
I've departed on business."
"Will you need a car down to the field?"
"No," she said. "I'll walk. I need to think."
She pulled down her heavy black cloak from its peg beside the door and started out for the
landing field.
The walk, a long half-day of hard going in mountainous terrain, took her even longer in the dark.
She opened herself to the universe on the way down the mountain, letting the currents of Power guide her
feet while her mind chewed over the problem. Two problems, now-keep the boys safe, and keep an eye
on the Mages.
As if we didn't have more trouble than we needed already.
She reached the landing field at dawn, and found an aircar ready for her. Apparently Owen had
approved of her action enough to call ahead and facilitate it. She realized then that her decision to walk
had come from a hope that the Guild Master would forbid her to go.
A flight over the glistening fields of morning took her to the spaceport complex at Galcen Prime,
where she scanned the listings for a link to Maraghai. The next ship heading out toward Selvauran space
wasn't scheduled to depart for some days yet. Rather than going back to the Retreat, she decided, she
would take up lodging in the city's Guildhouse and wait-but as she was turning away from the
reservations kiosk, a flash of light on the message board caught her eye. Something had changed in the
display.
She looked again at the listings, but found no updates on ships for Maraghai-nothing but a last
call for the Tik├║n Linkship Atli's Darling, making transit to Ophel.
She walked to the Tik├║n Packet Line's reservation point and presented her papers. Before she