"Doranna Durgin - Seer's Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Durgin Doranna)

And practice, Lenie did. Over fried potatoes, bacon and greens, she braved Cadell's scowls as she
smiled and chattered, and Blaine was free to let her thoughts wander. Not, as they generally did, to
whatever strange dream she might have had recently, or to what she'd seen in the mountains or along the
creek that day, but to the south, and the seers that had moved there.

And to her book, the badly damaged partial pages of which she nearly had memorizedтАФand from which
she had learned to make her blinder. The smooth-worn chunk of wood kept her hidden from the casual
eye, as long as she carried it against her skin; it fit perfectly into her palm. She hadn't tried anything else
from the bookтАФthe healing teas and poultices, the protective charms, the warnings . . . she'd had little
opportunity, and counted herself glad that no one else knew she had found the book at all, jammed in the
cellar corner of a burnt-out house in Fiddlehead Holler that she shouldn't even have been near.

Cadell would no doubt throw it out as trash. She'd heard his opinion of seers and seer things.The
Takers are dead , he'd say when someone got him started on the subject.The Takers are dead, and
the seers done left us. We don't need none of theirs, not any more.

Blaine did. Blaine wanted to know the things the book couldn't tell her, with its thick, hand-inked pages
and faded drawings. Mouse-nibbled, stained by dampness, bound in charred and cracking leather . . .
she kept it well hid in the barn. Dacey came from the south, where the seers' kin had gone; maybe one of
his people had made that book.

Her gaze wandered to him, found him making some polite smile at Lenie's words. She had first thought
that he was closer to her daddy's age than to her own, just from his manner, the confident way he'd
walked up to their yard and introduced himself. Now, as the waning light from the open door slid off the
angles of his cheeks and the high-bridged, barely curved line of his nose to be lost in the shadows
beneath dark brows, she realized that age had not yet left any great mark on his features. Six or seven
years older than she, perhaps . . . the light spilled into his eyes as he turned his head and caught her
staring.

She blushed, but realized soon enough that his gaze held appraisal rather than reproach, and that he
showed none of the faint pity she often saw in people's faces when she sat next to Lenie. "Do you know
much of the seer lore?" she blurted, stopping all conversation and raising her daddy's brow. Well, the
deed was done. Likely she'd not have another chance. "Like the northern sky yesterday, did you see the
color?"
"An odd one," Dacey agreed, a hint of surprise on his face at the question.

"Blaine," Cadell said sharply, "that ain't table talk."

"Sky was just sky-colored yesterday," Rand said.

"I heard," Blaine saidтАФignoring the darkening expression on her daddy's face, the somewhat startled
look on Dacey'sтАФ"that seers put some meaning to that color sky." Strange, hazy . . . and a hint of
purple, quickly swallowed by a normal dusk. She knew Rand hadn't noted it, even though he'd been
looking straight at it. She hadn't puzzled that out yet.

Dacey watched her, the light still splashing across half his face, hiding one eye in shadow but showing the
shine of interest in the other. "Seers used to call it a Taker's sky."

"What's Takers?" Willum demanded, as only a three-year-old can.