"02 Kendermore" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kirchoff Mary)

gave off a heavy, musky scent that was pleasantly familiar to the
inn's regular patrons. Small, round tables filled the room, though
Otik had also included one long table with benches to encourage
conversation among strangers.

The kitchen, a noisy, bustling place, was at the foot of the L.
The sounds of pans rattling and the cook screaming, and the enticing
scent of Otik's renowned spiced potatoes, were not unusual at any
hour.

What was unusual was that the inn was built in the mighty
branches of a vallenwood tree, a graceful, fastgrowing giant that
seemed to thrive around Solace. In fact, the entire town, except for
the stables and a few other buildings, was all located high above
ground in vallenwood trees. The village was unlike any other -
breathtakingly beautiful, yet practical for defense. Bridgewalks
spiraled to the ground around the trunks and swayed gently in the air
between trees, linking together businesses, families, and friends.

The three friends seated before the fire seemed lost in thought
as Tika returned with their drinks. The young girl's eyes lingered on
Tanis's attractive face - the dark, wide-set, brooding eyes,
cheekbones seemingly chiseled from marble, and his thick, wavy, red
hair, carelessly uncombed. But when her gaze dropped unconsciously to
his lean, muscled torso, obvious even through his shirt, her hands
grew clumsy and she slopped a bit of ale across the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry... it must be the heat." she mumbled, jabbing at
the spill with the hem of her apron.

"No harm done," Tas assured her. "It's really a very small
puddle. Actually, I'm impressed that you hit the table at all,
considering the way you were staring at -"

"Thank you, Tika," piped Flint, drowning out the rest of the
kender's all-too-honest proclamation. Tika flushed crimson and,
grateful for the dismissal, dashed into the shadows of the kitchen.

"Tas, you shouldn't have embarrassed her like that," Flint
scolded the kender.

"Embarrassed who' Whatever do you mean? Oh, Tika!" Tas finally
caught Flint's meaning. "It's not my fault if she fills mugs to the
brim, although" - he shrugged - "personally I like that in a girl."
Tas scooped a fingerful of foam from the top of one of the mugs and
guided it into his mouth.

Flint rolled his eyes in mock disgust. "There's not a bit of
common sense in that head of yours sometimes. You shouldn't have
pointed out that she was staring at Tanis."