"Edghill,.Rosemary.-.Empty.Crown.Trilogy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Edghill Rosemary)

of equivalency credits that let her collect a shatteringly
inconsequential B.A in History on her way to the Master's of Library
Science that might actually let her earn a living. She knew the rules:
If you see a supine-or-prone body, run-or at least walk fast-in the
opposite direction. Never interfere. James T. Kirk would not have
found a lot of sympathy here in New York City for his darling habit of
breaking the Prime Directive.

But this body was different.

For one thing, it didn't look like your average muggee. Even from
here, in the rain-misted streetlamp light, Ruth could see he (he?) was
dressed in a bright-colored tunic and boots-maybe a medievalist
wandered over from St. John the Unfinished, and thus more likely to
respond favorably to an offer of help.

Unless he was dead.

Ruth tried not to think about what she'd do if he were dead, but as she
minced closer she saw that he was breathing. He'd crawled out of-or
into?-the narrow alley that ran between her building and the one behind
it. If he hadn't been so fair, she might not have seen him.

So fair-and dressed in linen and cramoisie, though the linen was
stained and there was blood in the long silver-blond hair. She
crouched and leaned forward, shying away from touching him for fear of
hurting him further. Her heart hammered with near-exposure to
violence. But at least he was alive.

He rolled over on his back then, moaning, and with the improved angle
and visibility Ruth could see that his skin was not only fair, but
albino-fair. He wore a belt and baldric of silver-studded leather,
luxurious and theatrical.

His ears were pointed.

Good makeup, but not period costume, Ruth was thinking, when he opened
his eyes.

They were bright leaf green, and when the pupils contracted in the
streetlamp's glare she could see that the pupils were slitted. They
flashed in the dark like a cat's.

Ohboyohboyohboyohboy. Jane is going to kill me for being here instead
of her, Ruth thought automatically.

His hands roved over his body, obviously in search of something.

Ruth repressed a wince of sympathy-they looked like they'd been stepped
on.