"Simon R. Green - Haven 06 - Bones of Haven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Simon R)

always neatly. He had a long, angular head, with pale, pinched features accentuated by dark hair
cropped short in a military cut. He had a constant slight scowl that made him look more thoughtful
than bad-tempered.

John MacReady, the negotiator, looked like everyone's favorite uncle. It was his job to talk people out
of things before Winter let Barber loose on them. MacReady was average height and well-padded, in a
friendly, non-threatening way. He smiled a lot, and had the charming gift of convincing people he was
giving them his entire attention while they were talking. He was in his mid-forties, going bald, and
trying to hide it with a somewhat desperate hairstyle. He had an easy, companiable way about him that
made him hard to distrust, but Hawk decided to try anyway. He didn't put much faith in people who
smiled too much. It wasn't natural.

The sorcerer called Storm was a large, awkward-looking man in his late twenties. He was easily six
foot six inches, and his broad frame made him look even taller. His robe of sorcerer's black looked as if
it hadn't been cleaned in months, and the state of his long black hair and beard suggested they'd never
even been threatened with a comb. He scowled fiercely at nothing and everything, and just grunted
whenever Winter addressed him. His hands curled and uncurled into fists at his side, and he strode
along with his beard jutting out before him, as though just waiting for some fool to pick a quarrel with
him. All in all, he looked rather like some mystical hermit who'd spent years in a cave meditating on
the nature of man and the universe, and came up with some very unsatisfactory answers. The sorcerer
looked round suddenly, and caught Hawk's eye.

"What are you staring at?"

"I was just wondering about your name," said Hawk easily.

"My name? What about it?"

"Well, Storm's not exactly a usual name for a sorcerer. A weather wizard, maybe, butтАж"

"It suits me," said the sorcerer flatly. "Want to make something of it?"

Hawk thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. "Not right now. I was just curious."

Storm sniffed dismissively, and looked away. Jessica Winter fell back a few steps to walk alongside
Hawk. She smiled at him briefly. "Don't mind Storm," she said briskly, not bothering to lower her
voice. "He's a gloomy bugger, but he knows his job."

"Just what kind of a setup are we walking into?" asked Fisher, moving up on Hawk's other side. "As I
understand it, you've had a full briefing. We just got the edited highlights."

Winter nodded quickly. "Not surprisingly, the situation isn't as simple and straightforward as it
appears. The riot broke out far too suddenly and too efficiently for it to have been entirely
spontaneous. Somebody had to be behind it, pulling the strings and pointing people in the right
direction. But the Governor's attempts to negotiate got nowhere, because the rioters couldn't agree on a
leader to represent them. Which suggests that whoever is behind the riot is keeping his head down.
Which in turn suggests that person had his own reasons for starting it."

"Like breaking someone out, under cover of the chaos?" said Fisher.