"Isabo Kelly - Thiefs Desire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly Isabo)

come.

"Yes, Master," Henry murmured. "I've...I've witnessed what appear to be the prophesied signs."

Caul's head bobbed gently, understanding the hesitation in the young man's voice. His former apprentice,
now his assistant, wasn't a dumb or overenthusiastic youth. He had common sense and used his brain
above his emotions-most of the time. It was one of the reasons Caul liked him. "They are as they seem,
Henry. The time draws near. In the north, a dark power grows. Even now, forces are converging on our
city from many directions. The collision will shake the ground."

"Master Caul, are you sure? Can we be positive that the time is so close at hand? Isn't it possible the
omens have been misinterpreted?"

His slow exhale was almost a chuckle. "Dear Henry. Always bound by the physical. You deny your other
senses far too often for this connection to the substantial. Strange in a sorcerer of your skill." Though,
Caul could forgive the young man for his disbelief in this case. He didn't want to believe the signs either,
didn't want to know what he knew, or see what he saw approaching.

The old magician finally looked up from his text, but he didn't turn to face his assistant. His gaze focused
on the stone wall in front of him, his thoughts traveling beyond, to the inevitable future rushing toward
them. "No, Henry, the time is here. The power in the north has also seen the signs and is preparing to act
now. There can be no more delay. She's been born."

Chapter One
Vic looked closely at the faces of the other gamblers.

Big Charlie scowled at the cards in his hand, as his jaw muscles clenched and unclenched the scar
running from his cheek to his chin danced. Joe Missek watched the other players from beneath thick dark
eyebrows, leaving his cards face down on the table before him. He passed a steady hand over the top of
his bald head and held his face motionless. Riyack the Lean scratched his dirty neck with one hand and
held the fan of his cards in the other. A scar on the left side of his upper lip gave him a permanent snarl.
Nathan Cap smiled pleasantly, wiping his brow with a thin white cloth. His red face glowed in the dim
common room lights, a sharp and gaudy contrast to his yellow hair.

Vic's eyes narrowed. Could it be done again? The gambler grinned. "Devil's High, lads." An angry
grumble erupted from the other gamblers as they tossed their cards across the table. Vic scooped up the
pile of coins from the center of the table and deposited them in a leather drawstring purse, smiling at the
large number of gold coins in the pot. There was a lot a person could buy with that much gold. And a
draw that big would make Gip happy. But that hand had been about more than the gold on the table for
Vic. A hint of triumph flashed through the gambler's gut. I did it!

As the grumbling at the table continued, Vic decided retreat was the best option at this point in the night.
Someone might catch on otherwise. "Well lads, it's been a game, but I'm afraid I'll have to call it a night."

Big Charlie shot out of his seat as Vic stood to leave. "You cheated, you little beggar," the large man
bellowed.

The sound made Vic's stomach clench with apprehension. Damn it! Pushed it too far.
Vic shot a look to the exit, almost exactly opposite the gambling table. Too far to run just yet. Big Charlie
had earned his name by being almost as round as he was tall, but his size belied his speed. Vic had seen