"Mercedes Lackey - Last Herald Mage 2 - Magic's Promise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

looked up at him measuringly.
тАЬHave you any notion how many Herald-Mages we've lost in the last four
years?тАЭ she asked, her high - cheekboned face without any readable
expression.
тАЬTwo dozen?тАЭ he hazarded.
Now she looked uneasy. Not much, but enough that he could tell. тАЬSlightly
more than half the total we had when you and I came back from k'Treva. We
can't replace them fast enough. The Mage-Gift was never that common in the
first place, and with a rate of attrition like that - тАЬ She grimaced. тАЬI haven't told
you about this before, because there was nothing you could do about it, but
after the deaths of the last year, you should know the facts. You become
more important with each loss, Van. You were the only one available to send
to replace those five casualties on the Karsite Border. You were the only one
who could replace all five of them, all by yourself. That's why we couldn't
relieve you, lad, or even send you one other Herald-Mage to give you a
breather. We simply didn't have anyone to send. Speaking of which - тАЬ She
raised one eyebrow as she gave him such a penetrating look that Vanyel felt
as if she was seeing past his clothes to count his ribs and mark each of his
scars. тАЬ - you look like hell.тАЭ
тАЬCan't anyone greet me without saying that?тАЭ he complained. тАЬYou, Tran,
Jays - can't you tell me I'm looking seasoned? Or poetic? Or something?''
тАЬHorseturds; you don't look 'seasoned,' you look like hell. You're too
damned thin, your eyes are sunken, and if my Othersenses aren't fooling me,
you've got no reserves - you're on your last dregs of energy.тАЭ
Vanyel sighed, and folded himself up at her feet, resting his back against
the front of her chair and his head against her knee. That was тАЬhome,тАЭ and
always would be - as Savil was more his mother than his birth-mother ever
could be. тАЬIt's nothing,тАЭ he replied. тАЬAt least nothing a little sleep won't cure.
Come on, you know how you feel at the end of a tour of duty. You're still your
old tactful self, Savil.тАЭ
тАЬTact never was one of my strong traits, lad,тАЭ she replied, and he felt her
hand touch, and then begin stroking his hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed;
muscles began to unknot that must have been tensed up for the past year.
For the first time in months there was no one depending on him, looking to
him for safety. It was nice to feel sheltered and protected, instead of being the
shelter and protection. There are times when I'd give anything to be a child
again, and this is perilous close to one of them.
тАЬI am mortally tired, Savil,тАЭ he admitted, finally. тАЬI need this leave. It won't
take long to rest up - but I do need the rest. You know, I didn't ask for this. I
didn't want to be a Herald-Mage, I wanted to be a Bard. I sure as Havens
didn't ask to be 'Vanyel Dragonsbreath,' or whatever it is they're calling me.тАЭ
тАЬDemonsbane.тАЭ
The increasingly shrill tone of his own voice finally penetrated his fog.
тАЬSavil, I - am I whining?тАЭ
She chuckled throatily. тАЬYou're whining, son.тАЭ
тАЬHellfire,тАЭ he said. тАЬI swear, every time I lose a little sleep, I turn fifteen. A
bratty fifteen, at that. I'm amazed you put up with me.тАЭ
тАЬDarling boy,тАЭ she said, her hand somehow stroking his headache away,
тАЬYou've earned a little whine. You're thinned out in more ways than one.тАЭ She
sighed. тАЬThat's the one thing I regret most about the past few years - you