"Maggie Furey - Artifacts of Power 1 - Aurian" - читать интересную книгу автора (Furey Maggie)

an airy, glittering structure of crystal that soared high above
the gleaming wafers. The ethereal building was topped by a slender
glass spire on which a single point of light glowed like a fallen
star.

"Dear Gods, it's lovely!" Forral gasped.

Aurian looked at it dourly. "It's where we live." She shrugged and
dismounted, setting her pony free with a farewell pat.

Forral did likewise, on her assurance that his horse would stay
nearby where there was grazing. Leaving his saddle under a tree,
he followed the child across the bridge.

A white-sanded path led through Eilin's gardens, past neat rows of
late-season vegetables; herb beds laid out in a precise, intricate
mosaic of varied greens; and banks of fiery autumn flowers in
which sat a cluster of beehives, their occupants humming busily


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among the copper-gold blooms as they made the most of this last,
rare warm spell before winter. As he followed the child into the
tower, Forral reflected that the Mage had managed to support
herself and her daughter very well in their isolation, though he
wondered how Eilin obtained grain, cloth, and other necessities
that could not be won from the Valley's soil.

The outer door of the tower led straight into the kitchen, which
was obviously the main living area. Its walls were hewn out of the
dark stone of the tower's base, giving it a cavelike appearance
made cozy by the glow of the potbellied metal stove in the corner.
Colored rugs of woven wool brightened the floor, and there was a
scrubbed wooden table with benches tucked beneath. Two chairs with
padded seats were pulled up near the stove, and shelves and
cupboards lined the walls, making the most of the cramped space.
Two doors hid other rooms, and Aurian gestured to the one on the
right. "That's my room," she informed the swordsman. "She sleeps
upstairs, to be near her plants."

A delicate, twisting metal staircase led to the upper stories.
Aurian hesitated at the bottom, gesturing for Forral to precede
her. His boots striking bell-like notes on the vibrating metal
treads, Forral climbed the stairs, wondering at the look of
trepidation on the child's face.

Looking into the glass rooms of the tower as they led off the
staircase, Forral saw the practical purpose behind the building's