"Mercedes Lackey - Mage Storms 1 - Storm Warning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

nothing in common with her.
 After seeing changes over the course of a few hundred years, I would imagine that
there is very little that surprises her anymore.
And as for Firesong -
He flushed, and it wasnтАЩt from the heat of the water cradling him. I donтАЩt
understand, he thought, his logic getting all tangled up with his feelings whenever he
so much as thought about Firesong. I just donтАЩt understand. Why this, and why
Firesong! Not that the ShinтАЩaтАЩin had any prejudice about same-sex pairings, but
AnтАЩdesha had never felt even the tiniest of stirrings for a male before this. But
Firesong - oh, Firesong was quickly becoming the emotional center of his universe.
Why?
Firesong. Ah, what am I to do! Is he my next master!
His thoughts circled, tighter and tighter, like a hawk caught in an updraft, until he
physically shook himself loose. He splashed warm water on his face and sat up
straighter.
DonтАЩt get unbalanced. Concentrate on ordinary things: deal with all of. this a little
at a time. Think of ordinary things, peaceful things. They keep telling you not to
worry, to rest and recover and relax.
He opened his eyes and deliberately focused on the garden around him, looking
for places that might seem a little barren, a trifle unfinished. He had discovered a
surprising ability in himself. It was surprising, because the nomadic ShinтАЩaтАЩin were not
known for growing much of anything, and Falconsbane had been much more partial
to destroying rather than creating when he had been active.
I never thought IтАЩd be a gardener. I thought that was something only Tayledras did.
He loved the feel of warm earth between his fingers; seeing a new leaf unfold gave
him as much pleasure as if he had created a poem. Though the plants were cold and
alien, in their own way they were like him. They struck a chord in him the way open
sky and waving grass inspired his ancestors, and the scent of fresh greenery
renewed him. AnтАЩdesha had an affinity with ornamental plants, with plants of all kinds
now, and a patience with them that Firesong lacked. The Adept enjoyed the effect of
a finished planting, but he was not interested in creating it, nor in nurturing it. Though
Firesong had dictated the existence of the indoor garden, planned the general look of
it, and sculpted the stones, it was AnтАЩdesha who had filled it with growing things, and
given it life. In a sense, this fragile garden was AnтАЩdesha: body, mind, and soul.
AnтАЩdesha had not confined his efforts to the indoor garden surrounding the pools,
hot and cold, and the waterfall that Firesong had created here. He had extended the
plantings to cold-hardy species outside the windows, deciding that as long as the
windows were that tall, there was no reason why he couldnтАЩt create the illusion that
the indoor garden extended out into the outdoors. So, for at least the part of the year
when the outside gardens were still green, this could have been a shady grotto in any
Tayledras Vale.
The illusion was not quite perfect, and AnтАЩdesha studied the intersection of indoors
and outdoors, frowning slightly. He had matched the pebbled pathway between the
beds of ornamental grasses indoors and out, but the eye still saw the windowpane
before the vegetation outside it. He moved to the smooth rock edge of the pool and
laid his chin down on his crossed arms to study it further.
There must be a way to make the window more of an accidental interruption to the
flow of the gardens, the sweep of the planting.
Bushes, he decided. If I have some bushy plants in here, and more that will outline
a phantom pathway beyond the glass, that will help the illusion. With just a little