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

physical presence had once taken in the air.

Sevirym was staring at the ground, the sting of CanthaтАЩs words evident in his expression. Little more than
a boy when he had rashly thrown his lot in with Hector, he had aged a score of years in the last five
months, still maintaining an intermittent idealism that drove Jarmon to distraction. With each
disappointment, each rebuke from an elder, the life seemed to seep a little more out of him, leaving him
visibly older.

Hector inhaled slowly, then caught the look of understanding aimed at him by Anais as if it were a ball
tossed to him. His closest friend, a brother in all but blood, Anais had always understood his thoughts
without needing to hear them spoken aloud; perhaps it was their shared Lirin heritage that made their
minds one while granting them opposite physical traits. Anais had been born with the traditional features
of the Liringlas race, the silver eyes, the rosy skin, and smooth hair that reflected the sun; Hector had
favored his motherтАЩs kin, dark of eye and hair, the crown of curls atop his head reaching only to AnaisтАЩs
brow. Now they looked remarkably similarтАФboth had faded, their features dulled to gray colorlessness
by circumstance and exhaustion and the heat of the boiling sea.

He watched for a moment more, still in the thrall of the silence that Cantha had commanded, unable to
feel anything about the changes he had noticed. Then he signaled wordlessly for them to head out.

That silence held sway for the duration of the walk along the rocky shore until the group reached the spot
where the horses waited, oblivious to the changes in the morning wind. Then Anais cuffed Sevirym across
the back of the head.

тАЬI discern the reasons for your reluctance now!тАЭ he joked. тАЬYou wish to get out of sandbag duty.тАЭ

Sevirym mustered a slight smile. тАЬCan you blame me?тАЭ

тАЬCertainly not,тАЭ Anais said agreeably. тАЬI just might form an alliance with you, Sevirym; we can mutiny and
call for abandoning this mind-numbing task.тАЭ

Hector chuckled as he mounted his roan. тАЬA waste of time, that would be. The destruction of the Island
may not be forgone, but sandbag duty remains as inevitable as death.тАЭ

тАЬYou are decorating the wind, Hector,тАЭ Jarmon said sourly. тАЬBut if it occupies your mind while we wait, I
suppose there is nothing to be said against it.тАЭ

Anais pulled himself into the saddle. тАЬSpeak for yourself.IтАЩll gainsay it. If I had known this is how you
were going to put us to use, I would not have stayed. ItтАЩs one thing to agree to face certain death with
oneтАЩs best friend. It is altogether another to have oneтАЩs carefully cleaned fingernailsruined playing in the
dirt in the never-ending pursuit of useless sandbag fortifications. It is too onerous to be borne. You owe
me a night of very expensive drinking, Hector.тАЭ

Hector chuckled again and spurred the roan to a canter.

They rode without speaking down the northwestern shoreline to the outskirts of the abandoned fishing
village and dismounted, to begin combing through what remained of the thatched huts and broken docks.
Little effort had been needed to evacuate this place; fishermen knew the sea, and had been among the
first to realize what was coming.