"Esther M. Friesner - Homework" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

you?" he demanded. "Where are you? Show yourself, recreant fiend, if you're half a man!"
'"Kay."
The air before the prince's dazzled eyes shimmered. A form took shape, a form dark and sinister as
the Dread One himself, provided that the Dread One had been washed in hot water and improperly
dried. As Prince Gallantine stared in disbelief, a black-garbed boy of about nine years' growth
materialized fully. His face was partially shadowed by a deeply belled hood, an amulet of unutterable
power gleamed with a fierce blood-light from the iron chain around his neck, a demonling of hideous
aspect perched upon his shoulder, and a finger of dubious cleanliness was thrust halfway up his left
nostril.
" 'Lo," he said again.
Prince Gallantine scowled. "Who are you?" he repeated.
The boy removed his probing finger and studied the results, then wiped it on his sable-trimmed
black cloak. The hood fell back, revealing auburn hair, green eyes, and a round, freckled face that would
not have looked out of place on any farmstead in Placidia Felix. "Count Androphagus Doomdreamer of
the Raven Keep. Mom calls me Andy."
"'Mom'?"
The boy nodded. "Yeah. Only Uncle Morby made her stop it. He says that Dread Ones don't have
nicknames. It makes us less dread or something. I dunno if that's true or not. I figure that if you kill
enough people and lay waste to enough kingdoms and despoil the countryside and stuff, you can call
yourself Binky and people will still wet themselves when they hear it."
Prince Gallantine licked his upper lip slowly, digesting what he had just heard (as well as seeking out
the last few crumbs of chocolate chip cookie. He reasoned that they were too tiny to contain enough
soporific to do him any further harm and besides, drugged or not, chocolate was chocolate). So, the
whispers are true, he thought. Much has it been bruited about the Lands Yonder that Lord
Morbidius possesses kinfolk, even as any ordinary mortal man. This child, then, must be his
sister-son and as such the heir to all of his dark powers. No doubt he has apprenticed him to
follow in his own tainted footsteps. Apparently, I have been drugged and brought hither much as
a mother cat brings a half-dead field mouse to her kittens, that they might hone their hunting
skills by stalking the hapless creature. Thus Lord Morbidius must hope to give the lad a taste for
human pain and suffering by whetting his appetite with my own impending torments. So be it.
Perhaps this is something which I may yet turn to my advantage. The boy is young and, as such,
impressionable. I will use this as best I may.
"My lord," he said at last. "My lord, you speak with a wisdom far beyond your years. Your dread
uncle would do well to heed you."
The boy's expression did not change at this flattery. In fact, the boy's face could hardly be said to
bear anything resembling an expression at all, for there was nothing actually being expressed by that
flat-eyed stare and that gape-mouthed regard. Doormats showed more animation, road-kill more vim.
Prince Gallatine tried again: "My lord, for what dire purpose have I been brought here? What shall
become of me at your all-powerful hands? Tell me, that I might tremble before you." It was pure, blatant
banana oil, liberally laced with hogwash, but experience had taught Prince Gallantine that villains ate up
such stuff with a spoon.
"Oh," the boy said. "I dunno. Uncle Morby said he was gonna kill you pretty soon, so I figured it
wouldn't hurt nothin' if I did it."
That brought Prince Gallantine to attention. "You meanтАФyou mean it was your idea to bring me
here? Not Uncle MorтАФ Lord Morbidius's?"
"Uh-huh." In the way of ordinary children his own age, Andy crossed his eyes experimentally a
couple of times while speaking, just to see if he could do it and if they really would freeze that way. "I
mean, 'kay, so he's gonna be kinda unhappy with me when he finds out, but I don't care. I'm sick an'
tired of just killin' stuff on paper."
"On paper?" Prince Gallantine echoed. He glanced down at his feet. The floor of this sunny