"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 06 - A Time Of Omens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

All morning he stood there alone, brooding over the sea and sky. Marka had a sudden premonition that
had nothing to do with dweomer, that even if their marriage lasted for fifty years or more, she would
never truly know her husband, realized it then, when by every law in Bardek and Deverry both it was far
too late to change her mind. She also remembered the old fortune-teller in Luvilae. The knave of flowers,
she thought. ThatтАЩs who it was: Eba├▒y. IтАЩve married the knave of flowers, and IтАЩll never be the princess
now.



After she watched the ship sail out of sight, Jill returned to the inn, paid off the bills that the troupe had
left behind them, then gathered a packтАЩs worth of possessions: her clothes, the various maps and bits of
manuscripts that sheтАЩd found in the archipelago, a judicious selection of herbs and oddments, then in a fit
of thrift stored the rest with the innkeep, just as if she might come back again someday. Laden like a
peddler she strolled out of town by the west gate and followed the road, keeping more on the solid
shoulder than the mucky middle, for about a mile. As soon as she turned off into the tangled forest, she
saw Dallandra, waiting for her between two trees. In the sunlight the elven woman seemed as
insubstantial as a wisp of fog caught in branches.

тАЬYouтАЩre ready?тАЭ Dalla said, тАЬNow remember, Time runs differently, even on our borders. We wonтАЩt
seem to be in the Gatelands very long, but we might come out again years later or suchlike. We have to
travel fast.тАЭ
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Together they walked through the dappled shade and between the enormous trees. At first Jill thought
that nothing had happened, but then she realized that the thick jungle foliage was so intense a green that it
seemed fashioned from emerald. When she took a few steps, she saw ahead of her windblown billows of
grass. She spun round and found the jungle gone, swallowed by a mist hanging in the air, opalescent in a
delicate flood of grays and lavenders shot through with pinks and blues. As she watched, the mist
swelled, surged, and wrapped them round in welcome cold.

тАЬThere,тАЭ Dallandra said. тАЬYouтАЩre not truly in your body anymore, you see.тАЭ

Jill felt a weight round her neck and found, hanging from a golden chain, a tiny statuette of herself carved
from obsidian. Dallandra laughed.

тАЬMineтАЩs of amethyst. ThatтАЩs rather rude of Evandar, to use blackstone for you. ItтАЩs so grim.тАЭ

тАЬOh, it suits me well enough.тАЭ

Ahead three roads stretched out pale across the grasslands. One road led to the left and a stand of dark
hills, so bleak and glowering that she knew they had no part in any country that Dallandra would call
home. One road led to the right and a sudden rise of mountains, pale and gleaming in pure air beyond the
mist, their tops shrouded in snow so bright that it seemed as if they were lighted from within. Straight
ahead on the misty flat stretched the third. Dressed in elven clothes, a man was walking to meet them
down that middle way, whistling as he came, his hair an impossible yellow, bright as daffodils. When he
drew close Jill noticed that his eyes were an unnatural sky-blue and his lips red as cherries. She felt
magical power streaming from him as palpably as she felt the mist.