"Julian May - The Golden Torc" - читать интересную книгу автора (May Julian)

Mayvar. On the contrary! But make no mistakeтАФeven without
the silver torc, she is able to detect you now, wherever you
might go. Running away would be the worst mistake you could
possibly make. There's nothing for you out there, all alone.
Your fulfillment lies with us, in Muriah. Now come down. It's
time we resumed our journey. We should arrive in the capital
tonight, and you can judge for yourself whether or not I've
told the truth."
Abruptly, the tall exotic man withdrew into the passenger
compartment. The small group of humans remained on deck,
gasping.
"OhтАФwhat the hell," said the dragonfly.
It spiraled down, landed at the skipper's feet, and became
a little man clad in a gold-fabric costume all covered with
pockets. Self-confidence completely restored, Aiken Drum
grinned his golliwog grin.
"Maybe I will stick around awhile. For as long as it suits
me."
That evening, when the throng of Tanu riders came to wel-come
the boat to the shores of Aven, Bryan could think of only
a single thing: that Mercy might be somewhere among the
exotic cavalcade. And so he rushed from one side of the boat
to the other while a team of twenty stout helladotheria, looking


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something like giant okapis, were hitched to the craft in prep-aration
for its being hauled up the long rollered way to Muriah.
There was a bright gibbous moon. A kilometer or so above the
docks, which lay on a saltflat surrounded by weathered masses
of striped evaporite, the Tanu capital city glittered on the dark
peninsular height like an Earthbound galaxy.
"Mercy!" Bryan called. "Mercy, I'm here!"
There were numbers of human men and women riding to-gether
with the tall exotics, dressed, like them, either in faceted.and spiked glass armor or richly
jeweled gauze robes. The
flameless torches that they carried cast beams of many colors.
The riders laughed at Bryan and ignored the questions that he
tried to shout amidst the tumult of the hitching.
So many of the human women perched on the great chalikos
seemed to have auburn hair! Again and again Bryan strained
to catch a closer glimpse of a likely one. But always when the
beautiful rider approached it was not Mercy LamballeтАФnor
even one who really looked like her.
Aiken Drum stood on one of the boat seats posturing like
a gilded puppet, throwing out teasing or challenging quips that
provoked exotic hilarity and increased the bedlam. The Finno-Canadian
woodsman, Ramio Hakkinen, hung over the pneu-matic