"Karen Haber - Thieves' Carnival" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haber Karen)

straightened her red tunic.
"Come on. Let's get started. The faster we do this, the happier I'll be."

She led him at a trot into the maze of streets behind the plaza. Here, the light of the
twin sunballs was shaded by odd walls and building angles. A soft twilight gloom
pervaded the alley. Mouse watched her companion shiver.
"Chilly in here," he said.
Anger flared in her black eyes. "Delicate, aren't you? Well, brace yourself, musician.
It's about to get much colder." She slipped into a narrow span between two ancient
houses and vanished down a dark stairwell. Ciaran stayed hard on her heels.
"Where are we going?" he whispered.
"A shortcut under the city. Watch your footing." She pulled a glowstone out of a
pouch, kindled it against the wall, and held it at eye level. They descended into the
gloom, slipping on the stone stairs, which grew slick with moisture as they
descended. Six levels down, a landing gave way to two corridors. Mouse chose the
leftward route, holding her glowstone high. In the distance, wall grids flickered with
peculiar light, casting a cold, gray aura down the passageway. Mouse extinguished
her stone.
"What are these?" Ciaran asked, fingering the panels as he passed them.
"Old things," Mouse answered. "From long ago."
Her companion stopped moving.
"What's wrong?" she asked irritably.
"These are part of the Legend of Bas," Ciaran said, eyes shining. "The Distance
Song Cycle." He swung his harp around, paused, then ran his hand lightly over its
strings. A bright chord danced out from under his fingers. As, in a clear, true voice,
he sang out:

"Bas showed the people how to walk
along the ways that glowed. He led a thousand people out into the
airless cold. Led them to a better place of double
warmth and light. Beneath the streets, the legend says, the
warmth pierced endless night."

The lively melody echoed down the passage, turned a corner and was gone. Mouse
stared at him. "So you really are a minstrel," she said. Ciaran bowed.
"Is that an old song?"
"No. But it will be. Someday." He smiled. Ciaran wasn't half as ugly when he
smiled, Mouse thought.
"And you think these glowers are part of some legend?" she asked, tracing the
outline of the one nearest her with a finger.
"Maybe." He shrugged. "They'll make part of a good song, anyway." He settled the
harp on its sling behind his left shoulder. "Where are we?"
 "Under the Second Quarter. We'll take the next stairway up."
One hundred paces later, the panels' light faded behind them. Mouse rekindled her
glowstone, turned right and stepped up into a notch in the wall. They climbed up
eight levels before daylight illuminated their path and they emerged into a street of
dark stone and hooded figures. "What is this?" Ciaran asked. Mouse gave him a
sharp look. "Shh. It's Mentlan. The hour of silence. The Cators will all be going
home to sit and twiddle their amulets. We can get the Cube now if we do it quietly."