"Tanya Huff - The Fire's Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)
One
When the procession reached the edge of the volcano, the thief abandoned all dignity and began to
scream. The priests ignored her, allowing her terror to bury the droning of prayers. The crowd, packed
onto the platforms that hung over the crater, murmured in satisfaction; it was, after all, her terror they
had come to hear.
"They say she actually got her hands on The Stone." The pudgy merchant dabbed at his ruddy forehead
with a scented cloth. The heat of the sun above, combined with the rising waves of heat from the molten
rock below, had driven the temperature in the viewing areas distressingly high. "They say she came
closer than anyone has in the last twenty years."
"They say," repeated the young man, forced into proximity, and thus conversation, by the press of the
crowd. His voice hovered between scorn and indifference. His gaze stayed on the stone. Red-gold, as
large as a child's head, it sat enthroned on a golden spire that rose up out of the seething lava some thirty
feet beneath the platforms. A captured fire burned in its heart, the dancing light promising mystery and
power. The Stone kept Ischia, the royal city of Cisali, from vanishing under a flood of fire and ash, from
choking in the sulfuric breath of a live volcano. And they say the thief actually got her hands on it. He
applauded her skill if not her good sense.
The prayers ended.
The priests of the Fourth, their dull red robes like bloodstains against the rock, stepped back and two
massive acolytes lifted the bound and writhing body into the cage.
wondered if this execution was intended to be a religious occasion. The religion of the region, not only
of Cisali but of
8
Tanya Huff
the surrounding countries, operated on a number of complex levels involving both priests and wizards,
secular and nonsecular rituals. The One Below-a type of mother goddess as near as the young man could
determine-had borne nine sons, the Nine Above, and the Fourth-none of them had names-was the god of
justice. The screams took on a new intensity. The young man's gaze flickered to the royal platform. Only
the twins were present. The descent would be feet first, then, and slow. It was said in the city that the
twins were also bound to the Fourth although they had never entered the priesthood and were certainly
not wizards. Justice. His lips twisted up off his teeth. "You're, uh, not from the city." The merchant was
definitely more interested in his neighbor now than in the day's event.
Ginger hair, cropped shorter than was currently fashionable, pale skin, sharp features, and a slight build
marked said neighbor as an outlander. Amid the placid and pleasure loving city dwellers, his scowl and
brittle intensity marked him just as surely. There were few outlanders in Ischia, certain policies of the
king had been set up to discourage them from staying.
"Is this your first time watching The Lady?" The young man merely grunted. He thought the local name
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