"Books - David Eddings - Polgara the Sorceress" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

telling me anyway, so it was all very tedious and monotonous for
me.
'Keep your temper, Polgara,' mother told me on one occasion when
I was right on the verge of an outburst.
'But this is all so boring.' I protested.
'Think about something else, then.'
'What should I think about?'
'Have the twins teach you how to cook,' she suggested. 'Humans like
to stick theirfood in a fire before they eat it. It's always seemed
like a waste of
time to me, but that's the way they are.'
And so it was that I started to get two educations instead of one.
I learned all about translocation and about spices at almost the same

time. One of the peculiarities of our gift is the fact that imagination
plays a very large part in it, and I soon found that I could imagine
what a given spice would add to whatever dish I was preparing.
In this particular regard I soon even outstripped the twins. They
measured things rather meticulously. I seasoned food by instinct
a pinch, a dollop, or a handful of any spice always seemed to work


out just right.
'That's too much sage, Pol,' Beltira protested when I dug my hand
into one of his spice-pots.
'Wait, uncle,' I told him. 'Don't criticize my cooking until you've
tasted it.'
And, as usual, the stew I was preparing came out perfect.
Beltira was a little sullen about that, as I recall.
And then there came a very important day in my life. It was the
day - night actually - when mother revealed the secret of changing
shape.
'It's really quite simple, Polgara,' she told me. 'All you really have to
do is form the image of the alternative shape in your mind and then fit
yourself into it.'
Mother's idea of 'simple' and mine were miles apart, however.
'The tail-feathers are too short,' she said critically after my third
attempt. 'Try it again.'
It took me hours to get the imagined shape right. I was almost on'
the verge of giving up entirely. If I got the tail right, the beak was
wrong - or the talons. Then the wing-feathers weren't soft enough.
Then the chest wasn't strong enough. Then the eyes were too small.
I was right at the edge of abandoning the whole notion when mother
said, 'That looks closer. Now just let yourself flow into it.' Mother's
ability to see into my mind made her the best teacher I could possibly
have had.
As I started to slip myself into the image I'd formed, I felt as if
my body had turned into something almost liquid - like honey. I
literally seeped into that imaginary shape.
And then it was done. I was a snowy owl. Once again, mother's