"Mercedes Lackey - Bardic Voices 1 - Lark And Wren" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Mercedes Lackey - Lark and Wren


BARDIC VOICES:
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any
resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright 1992 by Mercedes Lackey

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, N.Y. 10471

ISBN: 0-671-72099-6

Cover art by Darrell Sweet

First printing, January 1992
Second printing, October 1992

Distributed by
SIMON & SCHUSTER
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, N.Y. 10020

Printed in the United States of America
Dedicated to Ellen Guon;
writer, musician, and lady of quality
And to those who dream, then work to make their dream a reality
A GHOST OF A CHANCE
A voice, an icy, whispering voice, came out of the darkness from all around her; from everywhere, yet
nowhere. It could have been born of her imagination, yet Rune knew the voice was the Ghost's, and that to
run was to die. Instantly, but in terror that would make dying seem to last an eternity.
"Why have you come here, stupid child?" it murmured, as fear urged her to run away. "Why were you
waiting here? For me? Foolish child, do you not know what I am? What I could do to you?"
Rune had to swallow twice before she could speak, and even then her voice cracked and squeaked
with fear.
"I've come to fiddle for you-sir?" she said, gasping for breath between each word, trying to keep her
teeth from chattering.
The Ghost laughed, a sound with no humor in it, the kind of laugh that called up empty wastelands
and icy peaks. "Well, then, girl. Fiddle, then. And pray to that Sacrificed God of yours that you fiddle well,
very well. If you please me, if you continue to entertain me until dawn, I shall let you live, a favor I have
never granted any other. But I warn you-the moment my attention lags, little girl-you'll die like all the
others and you will join all the others in my own private little Hell."
CHAPTER ONE
The attic cubicle was dark and stuffy, two conditions the tiny window under the eaves did little to
alleviate. Rune reached up to the shelf over her pallet for her fiddle case, and froze with her hand less than