"doyle, deborah - mcdonald, james d - circle of magic 04 - danger in the palace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

belonged to Lys, his friend and traveling companion. The
black-haired girl in boy's clothing sat on the
rim of the enormous bronze-and-marble fountain in the
center of Peda's market square, ready to begin her
performance. Randal flourished the hat a second time
and placed it on the ground. Then he sat
crosslegged on the pavement and waited for Lys
to start singing.
Behind him, the first notes of the girl's song floated
out over the sound of falling water. Most of the people in the
small crowd turned their attention to her. Those who still
looked at Randal saw a tall, sturdily built
youth in his middle teens, with untrimmed brown hair
falling down into his eyes. Over his
travel-stained garments he wore the widesleeved
black robe of a journeyman wizard trained at the
Schola Sorceriae -- the School of Wizardry
in Tarnsberg, on the western sea.
Time to start earning my bread,
he thought, as Lys sang on. He didn't understand
the words of her song-they were in her native
Occitanian, the language of these parts, and Randal
knew little more of that tongue than the few memorized
phrases he'd already spoken. But he and Lys had
practiced this routine every day on the road south from
Widsegard; he knew the exact moment at which
to begin weaving his own spells into the music.
Now the young wizard calmed his mind and began to call
forth sound from the air around him a deep-pitched, steady
chord to underlie and harmonize with Lys's melody.
The chord came in well-balanced and firm on the
first try.
Good,
thought Randal.
Now for the high tone.
He concentrated again and set a mellow flute like
tone playing along an octave above the tune Lys
sang.
The flute sound also came in on key and
followed the melody without any fumbles or
mistakes. Randal allowed himself a smile of
satisfaction- the music was going well today.
Now for the lights.
He tried for a glowing cloud of color, like a veil
between Lys and the spray of the fountain, and it appeared.
With a little more concentration, he gave the cloud a wash of
red for the low note of his chord, mingled with green and
blue for Lys's clear alto voice and dappled with
flecks of gold sparkling in time with the highest notes
of the flute.