"George R. R. Martin - WC 4 - Aces Abroad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

the bokor."
"I ... see ... And who, if you don't mind my asking, are you?" The woman laughed
good-humoredly. "No, child, I don't mind at all. It shows admirable caution on
your part. I am Mambo Julia, priestess and premiere reine of the local Bizango
chapter." She must have correctly read the baled look on Chrysalis's face, for
she laughed aloud. "You blancs are so funny! You think you know everything. You
come to Haiti in your great airplane, walk about for one day, and then dispense
your magical advice that will cure all our ills. And not once do even one of you
leave Port-au-Prince!" Mambo Julia laughed again, this time with some derision.
"You know nothing of Haiti, the real Haiti. Port-au-Prince is a gigantic caricer
that shelters the leeches that are sucking the juices from Haiti's body. But the
countryside, ah, the countryside is Haiti's heart!"
"Well, my child, I shall tell you everything you need to know to begin to
understand. Everything, and more, than you want to know. Come to my hut. Rest.
Drink. Have a little something to eat. And listen."
Chrysalis considered the woman's offer. Right now she was more concerned about
her own difficulties than Haiti's, but Mambo Julia's invitation sounded good.
She wanted to rest her aching feet and drink something cold. The idea of food
also sounded inviting. It seemed as if she'd last eaten years ago.
"All right," she said, following Mambo Julia toward the hut. Before they reached
the door, a middle-aged man, thin, like most Haitians, with a shock of premature
white hair, came around from the back.
"Baptiste!" Mambo Julia cried. "Have you fed the zombi?" The man nodded and
bobbed a courteous bow in Chrysalis's direction. "Good. Tell the others that
Madame Brigitte has found her own way home."
He bowed again, and Chrysalis and Mambo Julia went into the hut.
Inside, it was plainly, neatly, comfortably furnished. Mambo Julia ushered
Chrysalis to a rough-hewn plank table and served her fresh water and a selection
of fresh, succulent tropical fruits, most of which were unfamiliar, but tasty.
Outside, a drum began to beat a complicated rhythm to the night. Inside, Mambo



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Julia began to talk.
One of Ti Malice's mounts delivered Ezili's message at midnight. It had
succeeded in the task he'd given it. A new mount was lying in drugged slumber at
the Royal Haitian Hotel, awaiting its first kiss.
Excited as a child on Christmas morning, Ti Malice decided that he couldn't wait
at the fortress for the mounts he'd sent Taureau after to be delivered. He
wanted new blood, and he wanted it now.
He moved from his old favorite to a different mount, a girl not much bigger than
he, that was already waiting in the special box that he'd had built for
occasions when he had to move about in public. It was the size of a large
suitcase and was cramped and uncomfortable, but it afforded the privacy he
needed for his public excursions. It took a bit of caution, but Ti Malice was
smuggled unseen to the third floor of the Royal Haitian Hotel where Ezili, naked
and hair flying wild, let him into the room and stood back while the mount