"Julian May - Trillium 2 - Blood Trillium" - читать интересную книгу автора (May Julian)

legendary Archimage he sought was an ancient, the protector and guardian of the Mountain Folk from
the days of die Vanished Ones. But this woman looked to be scarcely thirty years ,ldтАФ
"Be at ease," she said. "From time out of mind, one \rchimage has followed another as was decreed
in the beginning. I am the Archimage Haramis, the White Lady of this age, and I confess to you
that I am yet a novice in
-.sing the powers of my great office, which I have held for only twelve years. But tell me who you
are and why you have sought me, and I will do my best to help you."
'Lady," he whispered. The words came slowly, like die fcast drops wrung from a sponge. "I asked my
faithful voor 10 bring me to you because I sought justiceтАФthe righting of a terrible wrong done to
me and my family and the reople of my village. But during my flight, as I came near r dving, I
realized that we are not the only ones who need "тАв ur help. It is the whole world that does."
She regarded him in silence for a long moment. Then
-.<- was amazed to see tears appear in her eyes, but they not spill onto her pale cheeks. "So it


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is true!" she ┬╗r.ispered. "All diroughout die land there have been rumblings of unease, rumors of
evil reborn among both Folk and humankindтАФeven contention between my two beloved sisters. But I
sought mundane reasons
Blood Tell
for the disturbances because I did not want to believe that the very balance of the world was once
again threatened."
"It is indeed!" he cried, starting up. "Lady, believe me! You must believe me! My own wife would
not believe and she was slain, as were our children and scores of our Folk. That evil one who came
forth from the Sempiternal Icecap now holds all Tuzamen in his thrall. But soonтАФ soonтАФ"
He had a fit of coughing and could speak no more, and from frustration began to thrash about the
bed like a demented thing.
The Archimage lifted her hand. "Magira!"
The door opened. Another female entered, came swiftly to the bedside, and regarded him with
enormous green eyes. Her hair was like fine-spun platinum, with the upstanding ears adorned with
sparkling red jewels. In contrast to the austere white dress of the Archimage, the newcomer was
magnificently attired in gauzy but voluminous robes of a rich crimson color, and she wore a golden
collar and bracelets all studded with multicolored gem-stones. She carried a crystal cup of some
steaming dark liquor, and at the command of the Archimage adminis-tered it to him.
His coughing eased, as did his panic. "In a moment you will feel better," the one named Magira
said. "Have courage. The White Lady does not turn away those \vh< > тАв petition her." :
Magira wiped his pallid, beslimed forehead with a soft ' cloth, and he noted with relief that
her hand bore three digits like his own. It comforted him to know that thi-person was of the Folk
as he was, even though she was <тАв: human stature, and her features more finely drawn tha: his own,
and the accents of her speech odd. It was n humankind, after all, that the impending calamity had
it-source.
The taste of the medicinal drink was bitter, but it bot:. soothed and strengthened him. The White
Lady sea1 herself on one side of the bed and Magira sat on ;:.
other, and in a few minutes he relaxed and was able to tell his story:
My name is Shiki [he said], and my people call themselves the Dorok. We dwell in those parts of
far Tuzamen where glacial tongues of the Sempiternal Icecap thrust forth from the frozen center of
the world and nearly reach the sea. Most of that land is treeless and grim, a place of windswept
moors and desolate mountains. We Folk have our small settlements in deep valleys beneath the