"C. S. Friedman - Coldfire 1 - Black Sun Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friedman C. S)

cause. Or say that some notable from another district comes to town, he wants
his potential read in everything that he might wear. I consult on everything,
Damien because everything involves the fae, in one way or another. Now . . . do
you want this outfit, or not?тАЭ
He regarded his reflection with renewed interest, if not with aesthetic
enthusiasm. тАЬWhat will it do for me?тАЭ
She folded her arms across her chest in mock severity. тАЬI do usually get paid
for this.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩll treat you to dinner.тАЭ
тАЬAh. Such generosity.тАЭ
тАЬAt an expensive restaurant.тАЭ
тАЬYou were going to do that anyway.тАЭ
He raised an eyebrow. тАЬI thought you couldnтАЩt read the future?тАЭ
тАЬI didnтАЩt. It was obvious.тАЭ
He sighed melodramatically. тАЬTwo dinners, then. Mercenary lady.тАЭ
тАЬMy middle name, you know.тАЭ She came up to where he stood and studied
him casually. He tried to discover some hint of a Working in her demeanor - a
whispered word, a subtle gesture, perhaps eyes tracking some visualized symbol
used for a key, even some indication that she was concentrating - but there was
nothing. If he hadnтАЩt seen her Work before, he would have thought she was
tricking him.
Reading: not the future, but the present. Not fate, but tendency. A true
Divining was impossible, as there was no certain future, but the seeds of all
possible futures existed in the present moment. If one had skill enough, one
could read them.
тАЬYouтАЩll stand out in a crowd,тАЭ she assured him.
He laughed softly.
 тАЬAmong strangers, men will be put off. Women will find you . . . intriguing.тАЭ
тАЬI can live with that.тАЭ
тАЬAmong those who know you . . . there arenтАЩt that many in Jaggonath, are
there?тАЭ Her brown eyes twinkled. тАЬI think you look charming. Your students will
be even more terrified of you than they are now - no major change there. I read
at least one barmaid who will find you unutterably attractive.тАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs appealing.тАЭ
Her eyes narrowed. тАЬSheтАЩs married.тАЭ
тАЬToo bad.тАЭ
тАЬAs for your superiors . . .тАЭ She hesitated. тАЬSuperior? Is there only one?тАЭ
He felt himself tense at the thought of the man. Easy, Damien. YouтАЩve got
months to go, here. Get a hold of yourself. тАЬOnly one that matters.тАЭ
She checked him out from head to foot, then did the same again. тАЬIn this
outfit,тАЭ she proclaimed at last, тАЬwill irritate the hell out of him.тАЭ
He stared at her for a minute, then broke into a grin. And turned to face the
proprietor, who was nervously twisting a red silk scarf between his fingers.
тАЬIтАЩll take it,тАЭ he declared.
The street outside was gray upon gray, chill autumn sunlight slowly giving
way to the shadows of JaggonathтАЩs dusk. Dark shapes shivered about the
corners of an alleyway, the cavernous mouth of an open doorway, the scurrying
feet of a dozen chilled pedestrians. Was it lamp shadows, tricking the eye? Or
some force that genuinely desired life, and might seek it out in sunlightтАЩs
absence?