"Francis Lebaron - Magic The Gathering - Masquerade Cycle 01 - Mercadian Masques" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lebaron Francis)

Francis Lebaron
"Mercadian Masques"

(Magic: the Gathering. Masquerade cycle. Book I.)


Book I

Chapter 1

Years later, Atalla could remember every moment of the
night he saw the ship that flew.
It was early, at least two hours before morningsinging.
The sky still held the pale yellow of dawn, though darker
streaks showed where the deeper orange of full daylight was
beginning to break through. Atalla had risen before sunrise
because Father had promised he might ride his first jhovall,
and the ten-year-old boy had been far too excited to sleep.
All through the dark hours, he lay on his pallet, staring into
the blackness, listening to the soft breathing of Mother and
Father asleep in the adjoining bed. In the stillness of the
country night, he could hear the mournful cries of mating
qomallen to the south, and when the hour was latest he heard
the distant booming vibrations of nightsinging from the city.
As the walls of the cottage slowly lightened, Atalla rose.
Carefully, to avoid waking his parents, he slipped out the
door.
Before him the plains of the west stretched to a horizon
that was still only a dim line between sky and earth. Atalla
stood still, drinking in the rich, heady smells of the air;
the faint odor of human habitation mixed with the scents of
farm animals and the wild creatures of the plains. Breezes
tousled his black hair and riffled through his nightshirt. His
heart thumped in his chest, and he felt deeply, warmly alive.
He passed along the side of the house to the Jhovall
stable. The six-legged tiger-creatures patiently purred in
their stalls. Father had said Atalla might ride the smallest
one, Skotcha. The boy stood by her head, gently stroking her
wet nose for several minutes. Even a small Jhovall could tear
across the plain like a dust devil, could kill a red wolf,
could carry a farm boy on plenty of adventures. Atalla fondly
patted her shaggy gray flank and left the stables.
The air felt dry, even for this early in the day. It would
be at least two more turnings of the moon before the rains
came, filling the riverbed and pond with water. Now, as the
boy watched, distant eddies and clouds of brown dust moved
across the endless plain under the brightening sky. The air to
the south seemed to shimmer. Predawn light bent and played
about the boy, caressing him.
Atalla felt a sudden pressure in the air. Something