"Kate Forsyth - Eileanan 01 - The Witches Of Eileanan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forsyth Kate)

in the twilight air. She swung out of the tree's branches and into the next, hands clinging to the ropes
that formed a bridge from trunk to trunk. As always, she cursed her guardian's obsession with
secrecy, which was what made the entry in and out of their home so difficult. "It does no' take long
for paths to appear, Isabeau, ye ken that. We must leave no sign that anyone bides here, for that
could be our undoing." If Isabeau left even a bent twig behind her, she was scolded thoroughly and
made to scrub out the evil-smelling pot in which Meghan made her potions.

With a twist of her body she swung into the branches of the biggest tree in the forest, which grew
on a small rocky outcrop above the loch. Its roots were protected by thorns, starred now with white
buds. Clinging to one of its thick branches, Isabeau paused to look around her. It was almost dark,
and the waters of the loch below were black. In the east, the moons were fully risen, and in their trail
a red comet had appeared, pulsing with life and rising steadily across the sky. Isabeau stared at the
Red Wanderer with mixed awe and anxiety, for the comet had appeared six days earlier and there
had been no one to ask what it meant. She knew there were rites to be performed at the rising of
the comet, but for the life of her she could not remember what they were. It could not be important,
though, for if it had been Meghan would have told her what to do before she left. Meghan would
never forget a date in the witches' calendar, no matter how rarely it occurred.

Balanced precariously some sixty feet off the ground, Isabeau found the secret catch with her
fingers and swung open a door in the huge trunk. She threw her pack in before maneuvering her
own long body through the narrow entrance.

"It's grand for Meghan," she muttered, as she had ever since she had grown to her full height, "but
if I get any fatter, I will no' be able to squeeze through this bloody door anymore."

Isabeau was standing in a small, round room, its rough walls lined with uneven shelves fitted in
wherever the knots of wood allowed. These shelves were filled with jars and bottles, while dried
plants and the shriveled bodies of bats, chameleons and drakes hung from the low ceiling. The room
was so small that Isabeau could touch both walls with her hands. In the center of the floor was a
small hole with a ladder that lead to a lower story. Again Isabeau had to drop her pack through
before squeezing through herself.

Each successive room was slightly larger than the one above and each had a hole in the floor with
a ladder that lead to the next. By the fourth floor, the rooms were hung with tapestried curtains and
their shelves lined with books and curious objectsтАФa crystal ball on clawed feet, a yellow skull, a
globe of the world, a piece of twisted driftwood. The fifth floor was Isabeau's bedroom, and most
of the space was taken up by a narrow bunk hung with blue velvet curtains with golden tassels,
another remnant of her guardian's mysterious past. The sixth floor was Meghan's bedroom; thick
books were piled on all the shelves and on the floor, and a carved wooden chest stood against one
curved wall. Isabeau wondered yet again how her frail guardian had ever managed to get the
massive chest into the tree, not to mention all the other furniture.

As she bent to swing down into the lowest floor, where the kitchen and storerooms were, she
heard a murmur of voices. Instantly she froze; then as silently as she knew how, lay flat on the floor
so she could peer through the hatchway to see who was within.

The ground floor was much larger than the rooms above, since the tree had grown up against a
natural outcrop of stone that held within a small cavern, concealed by the trunk and roots.
Subsequently, living wood providing the northern walls, hand-smoothed rock the rest, with the
fireplace built into a crack which provided a natural chimney. The roots of the tree provided a