"Lisle,.Holly.-.Vincalis.The.Agitator1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lisle Holly)

We were friends in a place that had no friendship, in a hell born of forced mindlessness and subterranean despair; and because we found our impossible friendship in the Warrens, we brought forth revolution. Thus a world died, and its death bore a new world.
а
VINCALIS THE AGITATOR
THE SECRET TEXTSЧOF THE FALCONS
Chapter 1
Down below, in the cages where theyТd been born, WraithТs only two friends in the world starved and waited. So the boy crouched in the shadows, heart racing in his throat. Without food, he couldnТt go home. Without food soon, he would have no reason to go home. The strangeness of this place frightened him, and he yearned for the familiar back ways heТd left behind. But some instinct had drawn him to this rich and impossible place, and he promised himself he would not leave empty-handed.
This city in the sky terrified him, though. To his right, a fountain erupted from nothing, spraying streams of crystalline liquid and gemlike shards of red and blue and green into the air. No solid structure supported this delicate miracle, but the many people who strolled past seemed not to even notice it. All around Wraith, buildings spun of smoke and light rose from foundations equally ephemeral, yet within them people moved easily from floor to floor, visible through lovely archways and on broad balconies. Below his feet, through roads like ribbons of stained glass, lay the other, lesser cityЧhis cityЧso far away that streets looked like silken threads and buildings like beads sewn on fine cloth.
Wraith did not belong in these fine streets, in this city above the city, in this realm of men who would be gods. But because he could come hereЧbecause the city itself let him enterЧno one looked at him with suspicion or with doubt. No one questioned the shabby nature of his clothes, the rough cut of his hair, his shoeless feet, or his gaunt childТs body. If he was here, they seemed to think, then it could only be because he belonged hereЧfor magic barred those who did not belong from the secrets of Oel Artis TraviaЧthe Aboves.
And here, where he knew he had no business, he found the thing he had so desperately sought. In the Belows, no one would think of displaying food in the open air, where anyone might walk up to it, touch itЧsteal it. But here it lay, in vast and wondrous quantities and unimaginable varieties. Wraith routinely stole thrown-away food from the containers behind stores and homes in the Belows, but this was new food, right where he could get it.
His stomach rumbled; the fruits and vegetables, breads and cheeses, pastries and beverages spread like a banquet before him, and he wanted so much to eat something. Anything. He had eaten scraps of bread soaked in some sort of gravy the previous day, picking tiny maggots off before taking bites. Aside from water, heТd had nothing else.
Any bite of food at all would have been wonderfulЧbut none of the other people wandering through the aisles ate anything while they walked. HeТd watched carefully; after years of scavenging, the knowledge that calling attention to himself would cause him trouble had become so deeply ingrained he didnТt even need to think about it. The shoppers all around him carried baskets that they picked up from one corner of this odd open-air market, and they wandered through the aisles, sorting through the offered produce and putting their chosen items into their baskets. When they finished, they simply took the baskets with them and left. They never paid, as people in the Belows paid. Wraith had seen money many times, and understood that it could be traded for food; what he had never been able to discover was where he might get money of his own.
Here, however, no money appeared to be necessary.
So he took a basket, and like the other people, he began putting food into it. In one basket, he would have enough food for Jess and Smoke and himself to live on for several daysЧand to live well. He mainly chose breads, dried meats, and pastries, because these, from his experience, would last longest. However, he couldnТt resist just a few of the beautiful, brightly colored fruits and vegetables. He could imagine the expressions on the faces of his friends when he returned with such a bounty.
When he finished collecting the food he wantedЧnot letting himself be as greedy as he desperately wished to be, but still with a nice haulЧhe headed for the exit, following the precise route those before him had followed. But whereas no one paid any attention when those others left, when he left someone said, УHey, that boy didnТt pay!Ф
And then someone else said, УBut he didnТt set off the alarm.Ф
And a woman shouted, УMaster! A thief!Ф
A man of young middle age rose from the edge of the market, where he had been sitting, apparently doing nothing more important than watching the water falling in the fountain. He turned, and stared at Wraith with eyes as cold as death, and pointed a finger. УYou. Stop.Ф
His voice had an odd echo to it. Wraith didnТt waste time contemplating what that echo might mean; he simply clutched the basket of food to his belly and fled.
The man, strangely, laughed. In the next instant, blinding white light surrounded Wraith, making the air around him crackle and sing, and scaring him so badly that he dropped the food. He didnТt dare stop to pick it up; the man hadnТt hurt him, but the wizardТs next attack might be more than fancy lights and noises.
Racing for the nearest of the little side streets that fed the square, Wraith ventured a glance over his shoulder, and got a bad shock. The square had been full of people. In just an instant, impossibly, they were gone, and only five remained: the man, the woman who had called out that he was a thief, and three gray-suited guards. The wizardТs oily voice carried clearly as Wraith darted down his chosen street. УThatТs the one. When you catch himа.а.а. bring him to me. I want to take him apart and see what heТs made of.Ф
Something in the wizardТs voice told Wraith that if the wizard caught Wraith, he would kill him. But over a basketful of food? In this place of such plenty, where people chose what they wanted and took it freely?
УWe will, Master,Ф one of the guards said in a voice that sounded as frightened as Wraith suddenly felt.
He heard the hiss and whisper of the guardsТ skimmers behind him, and he looked for cover. They could fly faster than he could ever hope to run, and with three of them after him, he probably didnТt have much chance.
His feet pounded over the translucent pavement, and he did not let himself look down to the ground far below. They could throw him off the road and he would die of terror long before he smashed into the pavement in the Belows.
He wished as he ran that he had not dared to chance the gate that led upward on the spiraling, spun-glass road. He wished he had stayed firmly on the ground where he belonged. There, at least, he might have found food that would keep Jess and Smoke alive a little longer. He would have managed, somehow, to provide for his friends the things they could not provide for themselves. But if he died here, the two of them would be lost; they would either starve to death or return to the hell of Sleep, from which he would never dare awaken them again.
He had to live. He had to.
The street down which he ran was a neighborhood thoroughfare. Behind the glass wall that edged the thoroughfare, houses built on clouds stood inside secondary walls blocked off by high, gracefully deadly gates. The translucent white walls of the houses gleamed with inset stones and metals, and the light that shone through them made them look as evanescent as soap bubbles, and as lovely. The inhabitants had spun their gardens of diamonds and stars that glittered and gleamed in stunning configurations. And singing fountains and streams that ran burbling and chuckling between invisible banks served as destinations for the gossamer paths that led from the gates to the houses.
Wraith thought it all very lovely, and all horrifying. He saw no place to hide, for even if he could climb a wall, he could not hide in a yard made of air and decorated by floating lights. He would be visible from any of the paths. And he didnТt see an alley, an open gate, something that would let him escape from that whine that came closer and closer to him.
Tears clogged his throat, and the air that fought its way through the narrowed passage burned in his lungs. He thought his heart might stop on its own before the guards behind him could touch him. Everything was closed. Locked. Impenetrable. And the next intersection was so far away, it might as well have been on the moon.
Then, as he bolted toward one great house, he saw that its owners had not worried about a physical gate with bars and spikes. Instead, the archway lay open. No doubt the invisible gate would be as formidable to most people as one of the tangible onesЧbut not to Wraith. He put on a burst of speed and threw himself through the opening. Cool fires of a hundred hues played across him, as they had earlier when heТd entered the gate that led to the AbovesЧbut those fires did nothing to him.
A boy of about his own ageЧstocky, blond, elaborately dressedЧhad been entertaining himself in that yard, sitting in a comfortable chair with his feet propped up, making three gold balls and a bit of rope spin through the air. The boy jumped at the flashing lights, and stared as Wraith lunged at him and said, УHide me.Ф
The boy gave one startled glance at the gate. But then he nodded and pointed Wraith to a tiny house with its own cloud-spun path that hung in the air almost against the wall.
Wraith didnТt ask questions. He didnТt let himself look down. He just ran.
The little house had, thank all the gods, a real floor. It held a table and four chairs, shelves full of books and jars and paraphernalia that Wraith couldnТt begin to identify, and on the floor dozens of dolls and brightly colored blocks and wheels and balls. It consisted of one room, a door, and four small round windows set a little lower than WraithТs eye level. He crouched, and through the window that faced back the way he had come, he watched the boy, pointedly not looking at the little house, return to his activity of making all three balls hover in the air while the string braided itself between them.
The guards stopped outside the gate. Two of them stared at the little house. The third glowered at WraithТs unexpected ally. УWhere is the little bastard?Ф the head guard asked.
The boy rose, not yet acknowledging any of the guards, and pointed to the translucent yard. All three balls spun neatly downward and settled into a line there. When he had summoned the rope to himself and it had wound itself around his arm as if it were a living thing, he turned and slowly walked to the gate. УPerfann, do you know to whom you are speaking?Ф
The guard ignored the question. УMaster Faregan told me to catch that little thief andЧФ
УMy name is Solander Artis,Ф the boy interrupted. УSon of Rone Artis. Artis, perfannЧwhich should have some meaning even to one of FareganТs men. And this is Artis House. Soа.а.а. now that you know to whom you are speaking, would you like to reconsider yourа.а.а. presence?Ф
The guardТs ruddy face bleached the color of bone. He said, УMy apologies. I would not bother you. But a thief escaped from the market, and Master Faregan has demanded that weа.а.а.Ф He paused, considering his words. УThat we capture him and remand him over to Master Faregan for questioning.Ф
УA worthy thing, no doubt,Ф the boy Solander said. УAnd had he come into my yard, I would without hesitation turn him over to you. But no one has come through the gate. ItТs armed, and since I did not wish to be disturbed at my studies, I did not unarm it. Did you notice anyone trying to cross an armed gate? ThatТs a fairly obvious thing.Ф
УWell, we saw the gate light upа.а.а. but we saw the boy on the other side.Ф
УYou saw the gate light up.Ф The boy smiled coldly. УAnd the gate is armed, and there is no boy. I can only reach one conclusion from that, perfann. I suggest you tell Master Faregan that the thief died trying to escape; in a fashion, perhaps justice has been served.Ф
The three guards stared from the little house in which Wraith hid to the boy who faced them at the gate, then back to the little house.
УI saw the gate light up,Ф one of them said.
The other two both nodded and agreed.
УSo he couldnТt be alive.Ф
УBut I swear I saw him running on the other side.Ф
The one in charge shook his head. УCanТt have. He cooked in the gate.Ф
The three of them stood there staring at each other, and Wraith sensed that they had come to an agreement before the other two spoke. When at last they said, УYes,Ф and УThereТs no other possibility,Ф it was merely formality. The head guard nodded to the boy Solander and said, УThen we thank you for your time, and we apologize for the disturbance. We will be on our way.Ф
And they left. Solander stood at the gate for a moment, watching them get on their skimmers and leave. Then, a thoughtful expression on his face, he turned and strolled down the path to the playhouse.