"Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill - The Bard - 03 - Spirits " - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

living playing in the Tacoma Sousa Band.

Or playing harps in hotel lobbies, pianos in cocktail bars, clarinets at weddings, and yes, flutes at
RenFaires. Anything that Levoisier can throw at them isnтАЩt half of the abuse theyтАЩll get out there.
Or, in the dark of the night, what theyтАЩll give themselves.

What had triggered todayтАЩs attack, he suspectedтАФgiven that Levoisier had first gone after Midori, then
himтАФwas the results of the placement auditions for the summer-session orchestra. Eric (and Midori) had
been placed in second chair.

Now, Eric hadnтАЩt heard MidoriтАЩs audition, but there was something that no one, including the Audition
Committee, knew about EricтАЩs. He would never get first chair, because all during his audition, he had
been sending out a thread of Bardic magic.

No matter how good I am, you wonтАЩt give me first chair, the magic had whispered, carried along on
the wings of Debussy. I donтАЩt need the experience, and you should give it to someone else.

In fact, at the end of the audition, one of the committee had taken him aside, apologetically, and had said,
тАЬBanyon, you deserved first chair, but frankly, we canтАЩt give it to you. You donтАЩt needтАФтАЭ

тАЬтАФthe experience,тАЭ Eric finished, with a grin and a toss of his long chestnut hair. тАЬNo worries, Doctor
Selkirk. Frankly, what I need is a lot more experience in backing and supporting another flautist. They
also serve, and all that.тАЭ

Doctor Selkirk had sighed with relief and shook EricтАЩs hand. тАЬI knew we hadnтАЩt made any mistakes in
readmitting you, Banyon. If running around in tights and floppy shirts on weekends would give our
students that kind of maturity, IтАЩd assign it as a course.тАЭ

Eric grinned to himself again. ItтАЩs not as if I need experience in front of an audience. I rather doubt
that IтАЩm ever going to face a more hostile audience than a flock of Nightflyers, or a pickier one
than an Elven Bard and Magus Major. And itтАЩs not fair to the kids to make them compete with me
for something I donтАЩt need or want.

The New York streets simmered with summer heat, and the kind of glare found when the only thing to
take the sunтАЩs rays is stone, and glass, and more stone. His local friends told him that August would be
even worseтАФif they got a really hot spell, even the blacktopped streets would go soft underfoot. He
hadnтАЩt believed it at the time, but now Eric was just as glad that heтАЩd spent the time last winter setting up
bomb-proof spells on all his apartment windows: now, when he opened them into muggy July heat, he
got arid January cold. It was a more elegant solution than nursing a power hog a/c along with Guardian
HouseтАЩs cranky electrical system. His computer and stereo systems were already major power hogs, not
to mention his pet microwave; heтАЩd learned he had to shut down every other appliance in the place when
he vacuumed. An air conditioner would have been the final straw. When Guardian House had been built
back in the first decade of the 20th century, all those appliances hadnтАЩt even been distant dreams.

He was looking forward to getting home, opening all the windows, and maybe coaxing Greystone down
into joining him for a glass of something cold. It wasnтАЩt likely anybody would miss the gargoyle if he
deserted his postтАФnot in a sweltering afternoon in July.

All he had to do was make it through the subway alive. Though most of the cars were air-conditioned to
pneumonia levels, only some of the stations had any pretense to climate-control at all. Fortunately, the