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

intimate contact with my mind simplified things enormously. There
are far too many things involved in flying for anyone to pick it up
immediately, so mother quite simply instilled all those minuscule
shifts and dexterity in my mind. I thrust with my soft wings, and I
was immediately airborne. I circled a few times, learning with every
silent sweep of my wings, and those circles grew inexorably wider.
There's an ecstasy to flying that I won't even try to describe. By
the time dawn began to stain the eastern horizon, I was a competent
bird, and my mind was filled with a joy I'd never known before.
'You'd better go back to the tower, Pol,' mother advised. 'Owls aren't
usuallyflying in the daytime.'
' Do I have to?'
'Yes. Let's not give our little secret away just yet. You'll have to change
to your own form as well.'
'Mother!' I protested vehemently.
'We can play again tomorrow night, Pol. Now go home and change back
before anyone wakes up.'
That didn't make me too happy, but I did as I was told.
It was not long after that that Beldaran took me to one side. 'Uncle
Beldin's bringing father back to the Vale,' she told me.
'Oh? How do you know that?'
'Mother told me - in a dream.'
'A dream?' That startled me.
'She always talks to me in my dreams. I told you about that
already.'
I decided not to make an issue of it, but I reminded myself to
have a talk with mother about it. She always came to me when I
was awake, but for some reason she spoke to my sister in the hazy
world of dreams. I wondered why there was such a difference. I
,,also wondered why mother had told Beldaran about our vagrant
,father's homecoming and hadn't bothered to let me know about it.
It was early summer when uncle Beldin finally brought father
home. Over the course of the years since father had left the Vale,
'uncle Beldin had kept track of him and had reported on his various
escapades, so I was not just too excited about his return. The idea
of admitting that a beer-soaked lecher was my father didn't appeal
to me all that much.
He didn't look too bad when he came up the stairs to the top of
Beldin's tower, but I knew that appearances could be deceiving.
'Father!' Beldaran exclaimed, rushing across the floor to embrace
him. Forgiveness is a virtue, I suppose, but sometimes Beldaran
carried it to extremes.
I did something that wasn't very nice at that point. My only excuse
was that I didn't want father to get the mistaken impression that
his homecoming was a cause for universal rejoicing. I didn't quite
hate him, but I definitely didn't like him. 'Well, Old Wolf,' I said in
as insulting a tone as I could manage, 'I see you've finally decided
to come back to the scene of the crime.'

*CHAPTER3