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

"In the middle of the day?" "When else?" Mouse hissed. "Can you suggest a
better time?"
Ciaran flung his arms up in surrender. "Lead on." They hurried past the hooded
figures, who ignored them as though they were ghosts with no substance. Around a
corner, the street widened into a marketplace. But the stalls were shuttered, the
merchants vanished. At the south end of the market, a building cast long shadows.
"The Black Cathedral," Mouse said. She walked through the deserted plaza, strode
up the steps, and pushed confidently against the dark glass doors of the building.
They were locked. Ciaran swore. "Patience." Mouse held up a warning finger. "Let's
look for a side door. They're easier."
The glossy, dark stones of the Cathedral lay flush against the Parish House on the
right. But on the left, a stone corridor measuring barely a child's width across
separated the great building from its neighbor. A grown man could not negotiate that
passage. But a slender woman, a black-haired Mouse, could. And gamely, Ciaran
followed behind her, sidling into the alleyway. Slowly, they inched along the path.
Mouse cursed softly. The side of the Cathedral was covered with lynchweed. Thick
curtains of the curling vine cascaded down the stone walls. She probed carefully
behind the barbed tendrils.
"It should be here somewhere," she muttered.
"Found it yet?" Ciaran's voice was a hoarse whisper. Mouse didn't answer. She
probed harder, feeling only stone and thorns, thorns and stone. Then her thumb
touched cold glass.
"Got it!" She almost crowed with triumph. Mouse stripped off her leather belt and
wrapped it around her palm for protection. She grasped the viney bramble and
slashed at it with her knife until a Mouse-sized oblong had been cut through to the
door. The lock was an old-style two-in-two. Mouse studied it for a moment. Pulling
her knife free, she slipped the tip of her blade into the keyhole and rotated it. With a
click, the tumblers gave. Mouse pushed the door gently. It would not budge. Her
next effort was not so gentle. She landed on her tail in the dust.
"Allow me," Ciaran said. He reached past her, powerful shoulders flexing, and
leaned into the door. It groaned and began to move slowly inward.
"I'd bet dinner that this door hasn't been used in years," he said. Mouse watched
with surprise as he forced the door fully open. She'd never expected a musician to
be so strong. Hopping to her feet, she poked her nose in the doorway. Thin daylight
illuminated a cramped passage behind what seemed to be an altar.
"Come on." Frowning, Ciaran squatted down and followed her. Slowly, the
ceiling sloped upward, and soon both could walk freely. But anyone taller than
Ciaran would still be crouching uncomfortably. Good thing he's short, Mouse
thought. Vandor would never have been able to fit through that alley, much less this
tiny passage. The hallway broadened at the far end into a large chamber filled with
brown stone benches flanking a long gray slab. There were dark stains upon the slab
that caused Mouse to shudder as she passed it. Ciaran touched its worn surface. A
harsh light kindled in his eyes.
"I've heard tales of these Cators. Nothing good." Mouse flashed a furious look at
him.
"Shh!" "Frightened?" She spun on her heel and grabbed the front of his yellow
tunic. "How would you like me to take you back down below and lose you?" she
snapped. "Try paying attention to what we came here for. Start looking for the Portal
Cube."
"I thought you knew where it was." "All I know is it's somewhere in here. Now get