"McKillip,.Patricia.A.-.Qrmh.2.-.Heir.Of.Sea.And.Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

than all its beautiful cargo. Duac stirred beside her,
as the peace of the ancient library with its smell
of hide, wax and the iron of old shields returned
the composure to his face. He said softly, "He is
the most pig-headed, arbitrary and exasperating
man in the Three Portions of An."

"I know."

"Something's going on in his head; something's
bubbling behind his eyes like a bad spell ... It
worries me. Because if it came to a choice between
a blind step into a bottomless pit with him and a
walk across the apple orchards with the Lords of

Heir o/ Sea and fire

An at their finest, I would shut my eyes and step.
But what is he thinking?"

"I don't know." She dropped her chin in her
palms. "I don't know why he wants us all home
now. I don't understand him. I asked him why I
couldn't leave, and he asked me why Thanet Ross
played a harp with no strings."

"Who?" Duac looked at her. "How could . . .
Why did he play a harp with no strings?"

"For the same reason he walked backward and
shaved his head instead of his beard. For no reason
except that there was no reason. He was a sad man
and died backward."

"Oh."

"He was walking backward for no reason and
fell in a river. Nobody ever saw him again, but they
assumed he died since there was no reasonЧ"

"All right." Duac protested mildly. "You could
spin that one into yarn."

She smiled. "See what education you missed, not
being destined to marry a riddle-master." Then her
smile faded; she bowed her head, traced a crack
in the old mortar. "I feel as though I'm waiting for
a legend to come down from the north, breaking
out of winter with the spring water . . . Then I re-
member the farmer's son who used to put shells to