"MacLeod, Ian R - Sealight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Macleod Ian R)

No fishermen could afford to live in these middle districts. Ran was very
conscious that he didn't belong here -- conscious also of the many patrols of
the State Police he saw, with their blue uniforms and bronze truncheons, tipping
their caps to anyone who looked wealthy, glaring at the poor. Ran was relieved
to find that they only glanced neutrally at him. He was wearing his best jerkin
and trouser: they weren't new or even first-hand, but they were clean and
unpatched, good enough at least to convince the Police that he wasn't a
candidate for a night in their tide-flooded cells.

He took one of the many ferries across the Great Canal. Beyond, and even this
late in the evening, the tight alleyways of the Jeweler's Quarter were doing a
good trade. Ran wandered, gazing through the barred windows at displays of
seajade, dwarfen gold, bloodpearl earrings, and necklaces of wyvern teeth. After
passing and re-passing several times, he eventually settled on a jeweler away
from the main thoroughfare with a display of dusty birthstones and dead insects
in the window. The sign above the door said GRIMMIERY AND HALE, ARTICLES FOR THE
DISCERNING.

The interior was thick with shadow and the underwater glint of jewels beneath
glass. A gray-haired man behind the counter raised an eyebrow, then let it drop.
"Can I be of . . . assistance?"

"I want something valued."

"Insurance purposes?"

Ran shrugged. He wasn't sure what insurance was, except that his mother had
complained once or twice that they didn't have any. "It's, er, this," he said.

The jeweler extended his fingers. "Let me examine, Sir."

Ran hesitated, then handed it over.

A flicker of distaste passed over the jeweler's face. It dissolved as he
examined the knife.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"I'm a fisherman . . . I mean, a captain. We're very rich. It's been in the
family for years."

"Then doubtless you'll know what it is?"

"Well, a knife...dagger, I suppose."

"A knife, dagger." The jeweler chuckled -- not a pleasant sound. Then he did
something with the knife that -- to Ran at least -- seemed extraordinary. He
looped his long fingers into the twin gold hoops at the top and pulled. The
knife was hinged in the middle. It split into the shape of an X; two separate
blades. The jeweler closed it again with a snip.