"Jane Lindskold - Lord Demon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lindskold Jane)

I do not have your knowledge."
That might be a small lie (though I was to learn later that it was not), but I did not see how flattery could hurt. Simply and
immediately, I wanted to see the skies above the park alive with kites once more.
For a moment, Li Piao's old eyes lit with pleasure at the prospect. Then he shook his head ruefully.
"I would, but I cannot. The doctors tell me a long time may pass before I am able to walk unassisted once more. I do not
myself to drive, even if they would permit me."
Sipping tea, I smiled. "I can collect you before each class and bring you home again. I would even toss in a meal or some
share of the teacher's salary to sweeten the deal."
I knew from my talk with the registrar that Li Piao had been well paid for his efforts but that otherwise he was retired. H
might welcome some cash.
"I could not take money for such!" he protested.
"You would be teaching the course," I reminded.
"Still!"
He looked indignant.
"There is no reason you should not be paid for your time," I said, speaking as if the matter was settled between us.
We bargained then, over tea and cookies, setting our terms. I think we both enjoyed it. When he looked as if he might re
said:
"You have not asked what I did when I was employed in the world. I was a great healerтАФone who followed the tradition
methods. I may be able to speed along your healing."
 I had him then, I could see it. Even if he did not desire himself whole for himself alone, he could not have refused me wit
feeling he was being selfish toward those who were taking time from their own daily duties to assist him.
"You know acupuncture?" he asked.
"Yes, and something of herbs and something, too, of more esoteric arts."
I reached out then and seized the bent, paralyzed index finger of his right hand. Taking a deep breath, I ran a portion of m
demon chi down it. I could feel the paths within revitalizing, then he moved it.
"I accept your offer," he said, firmly, his tones those of someone who is awed, though not too awed to be thoughtful. We
our arrangements, and I said that I would have the registrar call him soon.
I left quickly after that. I did not feel like playing games with the man. Neither did I feel like letting him die. From our bri
talk, I suspected that he still knew a lot more about kites than I did.

I picked him up for my Saturday and Sunday afternoon classes, and he would sit on the sunny hillside and watch the kite
gave him his treatment afterward and took him to dinner.
"Some of your kites are very, very old," he said.
"I come from an isolated part of the old country."
"Some of them I've only heard of, never seen."
"Soon you will be making them."
"I believe you. You' must have been a good healer before you retired. All the sensation is back on that side, and I can lim
around now."
"Next month you will throw the crutch away."
One day the following month, we all had our various kites in the air, a colorful blossoming of squares and rectangles (for
was devoted to assorted traditional types), when a fine Thai Pakpao refused to fly as it should. I gave my green-and-blue
Chinese butterfly to the student and stepped aside with Li Piao to see what could be done to mend the Pakpao.
The problem was with the string bridle. Li Piao made subtle adjustments to the length of the string, then I raised the Pakp
aloft once more. Not wanting to risk becoming entangled with any of those kites already flying, I had moved us a distance
from where the rest of my class was clustered.
"She looks good," I said. (A Pakpao is a female kite; the larger, male kite is called a Chula.)
"She does indeed," Li Piao answered, but I could tell from his tone that his attention was elsewhere.
I turned my attention from the Pakpao and glanced to the east, where an errant wind was blowing a small cloud near. A
rain fell upon me. I sensed what was happening, but by then it was too late.
There came a clap of thunder just as Li Piao cried out, "Kai!"