"Elizabeth Haydon - Symphony of Ages - Threshold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haydon Elizabeth)

тАЬSomething comes,тАЭ she said simply.

тАЬWhat?тАЭ demanded Jarmon. тАЬWhat comes?тАЭ

Cantha shook her head. тАЬWhen the winds speak, most times they speak as one,тАЭ she said, her raspy
voice clear.

Then it changed, scratching against all of their ears. In it was the howling of many toneless voices, a
cacophony of shrieks, rising and falling in intermittent discord.

тАЬNow, they do not,тАЭ she said, speaking in the discordant sound of the wind. тАЬThey moan wildly, as if in
terror. What they say is like a maelstrom; unclear. But whatever is coming, the winds fear it.тАЭ

The men exchanged a glance. In CanthaтАЩs voice they could hear the wail of sea winds, the rumblings of
thunder, the nightmarish cadence of destruction as gusts in a gale battered buildings to their ruin. It was
almost like the sound of battle, the confusion, the shouting, the utter sense of being lost in the fury of war.
The wind was foretelling something dire, but that was not unexpected.

Anais wanted her to give voice to it anyway.

тАЬSo what, then, do you believe is coming?тАЭ he asked.

тАЬThe end,тАЭ Cantha said.



Once the chill of emptiness had been driven from the great rooms of the inn by the steady hearth fire, the
travelers began dropping off to sleep one by one. Jarmon first; as a lifelong member of the KingтАЩs Guard,
he had learned to stay awake and watchful for days on end, and thereby had learned to take his repose
the instant it was offered him. His bedroll lay behind what had once been the tavernkeeperтАЩs bar as a
courtesy to the others; Anais had once complained that JarmonтАЩs prodigious snoring was causing his bow
to warp and his sword to rust.

The woman, who still had not responded to a single salutation, had drifted off into unconsciousness soon
after Jarmon. The boy had played a merry game of mumblety-peg with Anais and had spent more than
an hour on HectorтАЩs lap, taking turns making shadow puppets on the wall in the firelight before finally
curling up beside her under HectorтАЩs cloak.
Cantha eventually took her place near the open doorway where the wind could wash over her in her
slumber, standing a watch of a sort, though there was little chance that even the brigands that still
remained in the doomed land would approach the inn. Its reputation as a refuge of good and a bastion of
those who defended it had survived the evacuation into these latter days.

After the others had fallen asleep, the two childhood friends passed a skin of wine between them, musing
in mutual silence. Finally Anais looked up at Hector, who was staring pensively into the fire, and leaned
forward, his silver eyes bright but solemn.

тАЬA girl, then,тАЭ he said softly.

Hector nodded.