"Robin Hobb - Wizard Of The Pigeons" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hobb Robin)

ON THE FAR WESTERN SHORE of a northern continent there was
once a harbor city called Seattle.Jt did not have much of a
reputation for sunshine and beaches, but it did have plenty of
nun, and the folk who lived there were wont to call it "The
Emeraid City" for die greenness of its foliage. And the other
thing it boasted was a great friendliness that fell upon strangers
like its rain, but with more warmth. In that city, there dwelt a
wizard.

Not that folk recognized him as a wizard, for even in those
days, wizards were becoming rarer with each passing year. He
lived a simple life upon the streets of the city, passing among
me folk like the wind passes among the flowers, unseen but
not unfett. He was known, to the few who knew him, simply
as Wizard.

Little was known of his past, but atoning for this lack was
a plenitude of rumors about it. Some said he had been an
engineer and a warrior who bad returned from some far battle
with memories too fearsome to tolerate. And some said no,
that he had been a scholar and among those who had refused
to go to that far strife, and mat was why he dwelt nameless
and homeless in me streets. And some said he was older than

2 Megan Lindholm

the city itself, and others that he was newly arrived, only a
day or so ago. But what folk said of him mattered tittle, for it
was what he did that was important. Or didn't do, as Cassie
would have quickly pointed out.'

To Seattle there come blue days in October, when the sun
shines along the waterfront and one forgives the city its sins,
both mortal and venial. On such a day the cries of the gulls
seem to drown out the traffic noises, and the fresh salt breath'
of the ocean is stronger than the exhaust of the passing cars.
It was such a day, and sunlight shattered brilliantly against the
moving waters of Elliott Bay and the brisk wind blew the
shining shaids inland over the city. It was a day when no one
was immune to magic, and a wizard might revel in its glories.
The possibilities of the day nigged at Wizard's mind like a kite
tugs on a string. So, although he had been standing for some
time at a bus stop, when the bus finally came snorting into
sight, he wandered away from the other passengers, letting his
feet follow their own inclination.

When he reached the comer of Yesler Way, he turned and
followed it downhill, toward the bay. The sidewalk was as busy
as the narrow crowded street, but Wizard still halted in the
middle of it, forcing the flow of pedestrians to part and go