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

about. For that matter, he didnтАЩt think Firesong was quite sure how it had happened.
It certainly made a complicated situation even more so.
Not that I needed complications.
He flung himself down on his back and stared at the peak of the tent roof. How did
a person sort out a new life, a new home, a new identity, and a new lover, all at
once?
It only made the situation more strained that the new lover was trying to be part of
the solution.
Would it be easier if Firesong had been nothing more than a concerned stranger,
perhaps even a tentative friend, as Darkwind or the two gryphons were?
HeтАЩs being awfully patient, I suppose. Anyone else would have given up on me by
now. Surely a stranger would have blown up at him more than once, have cursed him
for his timidity, and consigned him to the ranks of those that could not be helped
because they would not help themselves.
On the other hand, sooner or later FiresongтАЩs frustration was going to overcome
his patience. He wouldnтАЩt be able to be impartial; he made no secret of the fact that
he wanted, badly, for AnтАЩdesha to reach his potential as a mage so that the two of
them could enjoy a relationship of two equal partners, the kind that the gryphons had.
But is that what I want! Part of him longed for it with all his heart. Part of him shied
away from the very idea. Firesong frightened him sometimes - the Healing Adept was
so very certain of himself and what he wanted. Sometimes I donтАЩt think heтАЩs had a
single doubt in his life. How could I ever have anything in common with someone like
him! Powerful, charismatic, blindingly intelligent, and handsome enough to be a
young god, Firesong was everything AnтАЩdesha had imagined he could be, back in
that long-ago day when he had run away from his Clan. No longer; he had endured
too much, and he could never be that naive or hopeful again.
But Firesong was all those things. He would never lack for bed partners. AnтАЩdesha
could not imagine someone like Firesong being willing to wait around on the mere
chance that a frail ShinтАЩaтАЩin half-breed might, one day, regain some of the spirit he
had lost. Why should he? Why should he waste precious time that way?
And yet -
HeтАЩs kind, heтАЩs patient. In fact, Firesong had been coaxing, courting, and cajoling
him with a gentle awkwardness that seemed to bespeak a distinct lack of practice in
those three skills. Then again, why would he ever need to coax or court anyone! He
could have anyone he wanted, IтАЩd think. They must be throwing themselves at his
feet, over there in the Palace. So it was all the more confusing that Firesong was
willing to take the time to lead AnтАЩdesha along like a spooked and frightened colt,
time he could, without a doubt, spend more pleasurably elsewhere, with other people.
His thoughts muddled together at that point. He didnтАЩt want to consider all the
ramifications of this. He didnтАЩt want to think that Firesong meant everything he had
said in the dark of the night. He certainly didnтАЩt want that kind of devotion.
Did he?
This was getting him nowhere. Rather than face further uncomfortable thoughts,
he rose from his pallet and took himself back out into the garden.
The firebird had preened all the water from its feathers, and busily fluffed them,
holding its wings away from its body in order to make certain that they dried fully. The
bird paid no attention to him as he passed it and went to the far side of the garden,
and the wrought-iron staircase that led to the second floor and the ekele he shared
with Firesong.
He climbed the stairs and emerged in the middle of the central room of the ekele,