"MacAvoy,.R.A.-.Black.Dragon.2.-.Twisting.The.Rope.e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

pier, whence came the barking of seals. She wore yellow trousers, a white
T-shirt, and plastic sunglasses edged in white and yellow daisies. Long's index
finger was locked in her belt loop to keep her from falling in. That black hand
was glittering with scales, for he had been helping the little girl feed the
seals. No one, not even Marty, had spoken for five minutes.
Martha let her attention drift with the tide from the blank western horizon to
the bright Ferris wheel on the boardwalk, and on to the point lighthouse. She
was thinking about Mendocino, where she had lived for the last four years, and
wondering why one could get most achingly homesick in a place very like one's
home. And why did a person go out on the road again, when she didn't need the
money, and was old enough to know where she wanted to be? She turned to Long
expectantly, as though she had asked the question aloud.
But he was not following her thoughts at all. Instead the dark head was drooped
forward, eyes closed. His nose was obviously very sore and his skin tight over
the bones of his face: so little flesh.
Martha caught her lower lip in her teeth, for she suddenly noticed the gray hair
at his temples. Had she known he was going gray? Dear God, to have him beside
her every day and not to notice. No, surely she had noticed, on some level. It
was just that she was so tired today. Things didn't look right.
And what if Mayland was looking older? So was she. She hadn't made him follow
her from city to city and country to country like this. It was his idea. And she
hadn't made himЕ what he was. Whatever ofttimes sad thing he was.
His eyes opened, focused directly at her. The virus had exaggerated the
epicanthic folds at the outer corners of them, making him look more Chinese. "I
have no idea why people do the things they do. None whatsoever."
She was taken aback. Had she been speaking aloud, after all? "Do you mean
yourselfЧwhy you're hereЧor why I wanted to leave Mendocino at all?"
The eyes narrowed to slits and he laughed. "Neither one. I was talking about the
altercation in the motel room. One would think I would understand human nature
by now, considering how long I've been studying it."
Martha frowned in thought. She could look quite fierce that way, despite her
round blue eyes and pink-petal complexion. "You can't see why Pсdraig got
angryЕ?"
"Any creature will react to assault by fighting back, if it can't run away. No,
I more wonder why St. Ives attacks, and why he chooses Pсdraig as his victim so
often. The boy is no threat."
The wind caught Martha's skirt as she stood up. She put one hand against her
knee to hold it as she walked over to stand beside Marty. Down below, in the
shadow, the smooth lumps of seal with their small-dog faces lay resting on the
pier's cross braces, and floated staring up from the black, swirling water. "No
more fishies," she called down to them, and when Marty let out a seallike sound
of protest, she added, "No more money to buy fishies.
"Pсdraig is not a competitor to George. He's his natural prey. You can see how
George plays on the poor creature's emotions: all the scale from fury to
discouragement to self-loathing. Pсdraig is only twenty, while George is almost
my age.";
"Positively a museum piece."
"WellЧold in his craft, anyway. But Pсdraig's being hit with everything new at
once: the geography, the people, this crazy lifestyle." She shrugged. "And I
promised his mother I'd take care of him."