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

around him. He gazed up fondly at the peak of the Smith Tower.
A merry little flag fluttered from the tip of its tall white tower.
Mr. L. C. Smith, grown rich from manufacturing typewriters,
had constructed die tower to be the tallest building west of the
Mississippi. The flagpole had been added in an attempt to retain
that title for a little longer. The tower was no longer me tallest,
of course, but its proud lines gave Wizard the moral courage
to pass the notorious structure known as the Sinking Ship park-
ing garage. This was a triangular monstrosity of gray concrete
wedged between Yesler and James Street. When one considered
it as a memorial to the Occidental and the Seattle, the two old
hotels torn down to allow for its construction, it became even
more depressing. The hill's steepness always made it appear
that the garage was foundering and would vanish into die earth
tomorrow, but, alas, it never did. Wizard hurried past it.

Safely beyond it, he slipped back into a stroll again, gazing
around himself and taking more than a minor satisfaction in
knowing his city so well. He knew it not as a common street
survivor might, but as a connoisseur of landmarks and their
history. How many skid row denizens, he wondered, of all the
skid rows across the nation, knew that Seattle had boasted the

Wizard of the Pigews 3

original Skid Road, after which all others were named? From
the hills above (he city, logs had once skidded down dial nearly
vertical street to Yesicr's Sawmill. Living conditions in the area
had been so poor that an eastern reporter had taken his impres-
sions and the name Skid Road home, to coin a brand new
cliche.

Wizard passed under the gray thunder of the Alaskan Way
Viaduct with a small claustrophobic shudder, and emerged into
the sun, wind, and sea smell of Alaskan Way South. He turned
north and plodded up the waterfront, watching the tugs, ferries.
and gulls with equal interest. Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. That
was what was luring him. He hadn't chatted with Sylvester for
days; die old cool would be wondering where be was.

By the time he reached the glass doors of the shop, he was
just chilled enough that the warmth of the interior made his
ears tingle. He stood, rubbing the chill from his fingers, and
let his eyes rove over the shop. It was a marvelous place. It
was so crammed thai not one more item could be packed into
it, yet each time Wizard dropped by, something new had been
added. The place was a cross between a museum and a shop,
with rarities on display, and bargains for browsers. The aisles
were cluttered with machines that, for a single shiny coin,
would let you test your strength, find your weight, take a peek