"Alphabet Of Thorn" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

УItТs nothing,Ф Nepenthe murmured, entranced. УMagic. Illusion. They made it out of nothing.Ф

УThey can kill each other with it!Ф

УTheyТre students,Ф Nepenthe argued unconvincingly. УThey donТt practice that on each other.Ф

УIf it doesnТt kill you, it can transform you into something loathsome.Ф

УThey can probably see us coming. They wouldnТt turn a pair of transcriptors into maggots.Ф

Oriel balked. УNo. Anyway, how do you know what it is or who is making it? They could be having a war in there for all we know, and weТd ride into the middle of something deadly just looking for a book.Ф

УAll right,Ф Nepenthe said. УAll right. IТll go.Ф

УNo.Ф

Nepenthe coaxed her placid mount forward a step or two. УMy horse doesnТt even see it,Ф she said, but Oriel sat obstinately still.

УIТll wait,Ф she said tersely. УJust hurry.Ф

The mages must have seen them coming some time ago, Nepenthe realized when she saw the robed figure come out of the trees to meet her. The young man was carrying something in one hand. His hair, Nepenthe noted idly, was the same gold-leaf hue that had splashed so profligately out of the mysterious wood. As she rode up to him, he gave her a smile somewhere between amusement and rue.

He nodded at the figure in the distance, then said to Nepenthe as she turned her mount to rein beside him, УWe frightened her, then.Ф

УSheТs easily frightened.Ф

УThere was no need.Ф He looked up at Nepenthe, mouth open to continue, then did not, for a moment; only the wind spoke, racing exuberantly between them. He finished his thought finally. УYou arenТt. Easily frightened.Ф

УNo.Ф The word snagged oddly. She cleared her throat, then for once in her life could find nothing coherent to say.

УWhat color are they?Ф she heard.

УWhat?Ф

УYour eyes. They were brown. Then when you turned your horse to face the sea they became as green as water.Ф

УThey do,Ф she answered. УThey do that.Ф His own eyes seemed the color of his hair, full of morning light. Rich, she thought dazedly, rich, though he wore the plain brown wool of a student, and that was none too clean.

УWhat is your name?Ф

УNepenthe. I am a ward of the royal library.Ф From mute to babbling, she had suddenly gone. УThey were up to N when they found me on the cliff edge.Ф

УNepenthe.Ф His eyes had narrowed slightly; they seemed to pull at her, doing a mageТs work. In some magical world, she dismounted; she stood on the grass in front of him; his hands, graceful and strong, something crusted and glittering beneath the nails, moved to touch herЕ

But no: they still held the book. She blinked, still mounted. He remembered it, too, in that moment.

УOh. Here.Ф He held the book up to her; she took it. It was very plain, worn, undistinguished by gold ink or jewels; the binding smelled of wax and old leather. УIt came to us in a traderТs wagon. He said it had been passing from hand to hand across the Twelve Crowns and more than likely beyond them. Nobody can read it, so he gave it to the mages for nothing. If the librarians find it deals with magic, the mages want it back. Otherwise, theyТll settle for some explanation of it.Ф

УIТll tell them.Ф Idly, because she had been surrounded by books since she had been found, she opened it, glanced at the odd letters.