"Greenwood, Ed - Elminster 05 - Elminster's Daughter_v1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenwood Ed)

Chuckling soundlessly, the archmage stepped aside, moving through the
drifting blue nothingness to emerge elsewhere, from a portal linked to
neither the one he'd entered nor the imperiled one it reached.

* * * * *

Narnra crouched in the lee of a large but crumbling chimney, wincing at
the burning ache in her shoulder. She'd torn something inside, it
seemed. Something small, thank the gods.

Ah, yes, the watching, all-seeing gods. She glanced up, and thought
another silent curse upon the enthusiastically devout idiots who
enspelled the Plinth to glow so brightly by night. Thieves don't welcome
beacons that illuminate their working world well.

And a thief was what Narnra Shalace was. That had been her profession
since her mother's mysterious death and the rush of neighbors, clients,
and Waterdhavians she'd never laid eyes on before to snatch all they
could of what had belonged to her mother. Only frantic flight had kept a
frightened and furious Narnra from being taken herself, doubtless to be
sold as a slave by whichever noble had set his men to chasing her.

Everyone knew there were laws in Waterdeep that touched nobles and many
more that -- somehow -- did not. Moreover, noble and rich merchant
families had ships and wagons in plenty and outlying lands beyond
Waterdeep's laws to travel to, where anything or anyone could be taken.

Leaving a suddenly coinless, bereft Narnra Shalace hunted through the
alleys and rooftops. So she'd become what she was being treated as --
one more thief scratching to survive in a city that was not kind to
thieves.

So here she was, aching and scheming on a decaying rooftop in Trades
Ward. A lonely young lass, fairly nimble in her leaps and tumblings but
not particularly beautiful, with her slender, long-limbed build, her
hacked-off dark hair, black-fire eyes, and beak of a nose. "The Silken
Shadow," she billed herself, but still she saw men smirk when she
uttered that title in the dingy, nameless taverns near the docks where
odd stolen items could be sold for a few coppers -- and no questions.

The winter had been hard. If it hadn't been for chimneys like this one,
the cold would have taken her before the first snows -- and one had to
fight for the warmest rooftop spots in Waterdeep.

As it was, Narnra spent much time hungry these days. Hungry and angry.
Fear was with her at every waking moment, keeping her glancing behind
her and knowing it was largely in vain. She could not help but be
uncomfortably aware of how skilled other thieves in this city were ...
to say nothing of the Watch and the Watchful Order and the Masked Lords
alone knew how many powerful wizards. She was a match for none of them