"Mercedes Lackey - Brightly Burning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

appetite, but now that he was no longer suspected of having a fever, apparently no one noticed that the
trays came down almost as full as when they went up. He took his medicines in apathetic silence, and
found a strange refuge in the books he used to despise.
This time it was the Healer who had put a time limit to his retreat; the Healer had said that he
should be ready to return to school in three days, so in exactly three days, there was another visit from
his mother.
She appeared with the supper tray, and actually gazed on him with a hint of approval.
тАЬYour teachers are extremely pleased with you,тАЭ she said, neutrally. тАЬYouтАЩre going to be quite
ready for school tomorrow.тАЭ
He wouldnтАЩt look into his motherтАЩs eyes. He knew there would be no reprieve.
At breakfast, Nelda handed him a small glass containing some thick, unidentifiable liquid.
тАЬWhatтАЩs . . . this?тАЭ he asked, staring at it dully.
тАЬThe medicine that will keep you from having those headaches from now on,тАЭ Nelda replied, with
a tart edge to her voice. Now that was not what Lan remembered; as he recalled, the Healer had not put
things with such certainty. It will help prevent them, was what Lan remembered. But it was obvious that
Nelda was determined that the inconvenience of the headaches would no longer be occurring to disrupt
the household schedule.
And if they do-obviously it will be because I did something wrong, that I didnтАЩt take
enough of the medicine, or didnтАЩt take it at the right time, he thought bitterly, his throat closing with a
painful lump. Or because IтАЩm faking it.
The medicine was nowhere near as bitter as his thoughts, and he swallowed it down without a
grimace for the taste. Then he gathered up his books, wrapped himself in his depression as well as his
cloak, and trudged off through the bleak half light of a gathering storm to what he could not help but feel
was his doom.
He didnтАЩt try to hide in a crowd this morning; why bother? Tyron would find him no matter where
he was.
 Bundled in his cloak, with the hood pulled over his head, perhaps they didnтАЩt recognize him. He
didnтАЩt make his usual sprint, he walked-or, rather, plodded-straight to the door. And no one stopped
him, or even interfered with him.
But this did nothing to give him his lost hopes back again. In fact, all it did was increase his feeling
of impending doom. With leaden steps he climbed the staircase to his floor.
HeтАЩs waiting. HeтАЩs sitting like a spider in the middle of his web. He knows he can have me any
time he wants, and heтАЩs just waiting for the perfect time, with the biggest audience.
Silence fell over the classroom as he entered, took off his cloak, and hung it on his peg near the
door with the rest.
He sat down at his desk without a word to any of the others. He didnтАЩt think it was his
imagination that painted expressions of pity in their eyes, mingled with a kind of gloating relief. (тАЬHeтАЩs
going to be picked on, not me!тАЭ)
The morning classes went far too quickly, and the nearer the time came to lunch, the more LanтАЩs
stomach knotted and the less he felt like even seeing food. But it wasnтАЩt until the rest filed out of the room
and he put his aching forehead down on the cool wooden surface of his desk, that the answer to his
unspoken prayers broke into his mind.
I donтАЩt have to go down to lunch! There is no reason why I canтАЩt just stay here!
It was so simple, and so perfect, he could hardly believe no one had ever thought of that solution
before. Perhaps it was only because hunger overcame fear around lunchtime; but more likely, it was
because the students were used to following routine. The students had always gone down to lunch in the
Hall at noon; hence students always would. He had no appetite anyway; if he didnтАЩt go down to the Hall,
there was no way that Tyron and his cronies could reach him! It was strictly forbidden for any student to
be on any floor that was not that of his own Form during the school day, and not even Tyron was
immune to that rule. He did have a sanctuary after all!