"03 - Time Streams" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)

It looked like a seagull's wing, only too large. A pelican?

A white sea lion? Jhoira blinked, rubbing her eyes. The sea

and sky were dazzling here. Maybe it was only a glaring bit

of foam.

No, it was more than that. It looked like fabric-perhaps

another student? Jhoira slid from the sandstone ledge and

eased herself down the tumbled hillside. One edge of the

white fabric was tied to something rigid-a spar. It was a

sail. Jhoira descended more quickly. Her sandal soles slid

on pea-gravel and sand. She thrashed past a brake of grass

and clambered down the cleft between two wind-carved stones.

The space gave out onto a wide beach of beige sand,

broken by rills of craggy black stone. Above one such rill,

a lateen-rigged sail jutted flaglike from a shattered wooden

hull. The impact had staved the boat's prow and splintered

the timbers amidships. Since then, the rocks had chewed away

at the frame, each new wave grinding the hull again on the

ragged stones.

Jhoira approached cautiously. So few ships arrived at

Tolaria. Most were the academy's own supply vessels,

captained by seamen hand-picked by Master Malzra. The island

was too remote, too removed from trade routes to attract

other ships. This boat must have drifted for some distance

off course before crashing. Perhaps it was abandoned.

Perhaps its crew had been washed overboard. Jhoira craned