"Mercedes Lackey & Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 03 - The Silver Gryphon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

people as well, he'd been virtually forced to wear his Black Gryphon "guise" whenever he visited. He had
rescued Shalaman, the Black King, as the Black GryphonтАФand in a culture that set a high value on things
that never changed, he was mentally set in that persona whenever he returned to the site of his triumph.
The Gryphon King, beloved where e'er he goes. That was what Aubri had said to his face,
mockingly.
But the real irony of the statement was that it was true. He never left Khimbata without being loaded
down with gifts of all sorts. His jewelry collection was astonishing; if he and Zhaneel wore all of it at one
time, they'd never get off the ground.
Between us, if we're lucky, Keeth and I might manage to be a quarter as famous as he isтАФand
then most of it will be due to the fact that we're his sons.
That could have been a depressing thought, if Tad had any real ambition. But to be frank, he didn't.
He'd seen the negative effects of all that adulationтАФhow it was always necessary for Skandranon to
be charming, witty, and unfailingly polite no matter what he personally felt like. How when the family
visited Khimbata, Skandranon had barely a moment to himself and none to spare for them. And how
even at home, there was always someone who wanted something from him. He was always getting gifts,
and a great many of those gifts came with requests attached. Even when they didn't, there was always the
chance that a demand, phrased as a request, would come later, perhaps when he wasn't expecting it and
was off his guard.
There was no way for Skandranon to know whether someone wanted his friendship because of
what he was or because of who he wasтАФand the difference was critical.
No, thank you. I am very fond of obscurity, all things considered.
It would be no bad thing to be an obscure Silver, always assigned to the Outposts, hopefully
collecting enough extra from his discoveries to finance a comfortable style of living. Let Keeth collect all
the notoriety of being the first gryphon trondi'irn; Tad would be happy to donate whatever measure of
"fame" fate had in store for him to his brother! Just as he had finished that thought, he noticed that the
others were looking at him. Evidently Keeth had run out of things to say, and it was his turn again.
Oh, bother.
Skandranon cleared his throat. As always, the sound, an affectation acquired from living so much
with humans, sounded very odd coming from a gryphon.
It sounds as if he's trying to cough up a hairball, actually.
"Well!" Skandranon said heartily. "Your mother and I are very interested in hearing about this
outpost you're being sent to. What do you know about it?"
Tad sighed with resignation, and submitted himself to the unrelenting pressure of parental love.

Blade couldn't bring herself to sit, although she managed to keep from pacing along the edge of the
cliff. The stone here was a bit precarious for pacingтАФhow ignoble if she should slip and fall, breaking
something, and force Judeth and Aubri to send someone else to the outpost after all! Tad would never,
ever forgive me. Or elseтАФhe'd take a new partner and go, and I would be left behind to endure
parental commiserations.
Ikala sat on a rock and watched the sunset rather than her. He'd asked her to meet him here for a
private farewell; her emotions were so mixed now that she honestly didn't know what to say to him. So
far, he hadn't said anything to her, and she waited for him to begin.
He cleared his throat, still without looking at her. "So, you leave tomorrow. For several months, I'm
told?" Of course, he knew her assignment, everyone in the Silvers did; he was just using the question as a
way to start the conversation.
The sun ventured near to the ocean; soon it would plunge down below the line of the horizon. Her
throat and tongue felt as if they belonged to someone else. "Yes," she finally replied. Now she knew why,
people spoke of being "tongue-tied." It had been incredibly difficult just to get that single word out.
She wanted to say more; to ask if he would miss her, if he was angry that she was leaving just as
their friendship looked to become something more. She wanted to know if he was hurt that she hadn't