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

tangled ceiling, with every nook and cranny serving as a shelf or hidey-hole. Hidden ingeniously
behind two of the shelved walls were the entrances to secret passages, one leading to a hidden cave
by the loch, the other into the forest.

Craning to see beyond the hanging bunches of herbs and onions, Isabeau saw Meghan sitting in
her curious high-backed chair in front of the fire. In her lap was a blue book, its pages filled with her
thin, spidery writing and drawings, and in one hand she held a jewel that glittered with golden fire.

"So do ye recognize my mystery emblem? I am sure I have seen it before somewhere, but I canna
find it in any o' the books I have here . .." Suddenly she stopped, and drew back her hand, tucking it
under her plaid. "Come down, Isabeau. I've been expecting ye back for an hour or more. Did ye
find any trefoil?"

Relieved to see it was only her guardian, Isabeau swung herself down lightly. "Aye, two lots," she
responded.

"I hope ye did no' pull it out by the roots," the wood witch said irritably, as she closed the book
and tucked it down the side of her chair. A diminutive woman, her iron-gray hair was bound into a
long plait that hung over the edge of the chair, pooling onto the floor below. A white streak began at
her left brow and could be seen twisting through her plait all the way to its end. Her familiar, a
donbeag called Git├в, perched on the low rafters above her head, nibbling daintily on a nut he held in
his paws.

"O' course no'! Ye taught me better than that," Isabeau replied, dumping her pack on the
handmade wooden table.

"Ye must be hungry. We were just having some teaтАФ pour yourself a cup."

We? Isabeau jerked upright in surprise, and only then saw the other woman sitting in the chair on
the other side of the fire, half obscured by the flickering shadows. It had not occurred to Isabeau
that Meghan had been speaking to anyone but Git├в, for in all the sixteen years that Isabeau had lived
in this valley, no one had ever visited them before. The valley was far away from any town or village,
and lay right below Dragonclaw, home of the dragons. No one trespassed lightly on land over which
the shadows of dragons passed.

The woman was staring back at her and Isabeau felt uncomfortable under her intent gaze. She
was pale-skinned with black hair and green eyes, and was wearing a brown dress with a wooly
plaid wrapped over her shoulders and across her chest. Her hair was very long and very untidy. It
flowed over her shoulder and hung toward the floor, tied here and there with leather thongs.

"So this is your wee lassie," the woman said. Her voice had a pronounced accent, drawn out and
very thick. "What a scarecrow!"

Isabeau was immediately aware of her stained breeches, the twigs and leaves in her matted hair,
the dirt under her fingernails. She scowled. "I've been out hunting herbs all day. It's hot and dirty
work!"

"That it be," the woman said calmly. "Come here. I want to see ye."

Isabeau did not move, only glared at the stranger suspiciously. Meghan rose stiffly to her feet and