"Miller, Rand and Robyn & Wingrove, David - Myst 01 - The Book of Atrus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Rand)

"Oh, go on," she said, laughing softly. "I'm only teasing you, Atrus. Open it."
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Slowly, reluctantly, he slipped die blade beneath
the twine and pulled. The mouth of the sack sighed
open.
Putting the blade down on the rock, he lifted the glasses up onto the top of his head, then grasped the sack's neck, slowly drawing it open, all the while peering into its dark interior.
There was something there. Something small and
hunched and...
The sound made him drop the sack and jerk back, the hairs at his neck standing up with shock.
"Careful..." Anna said, bending down to pick the sack up.
Amis watched, astonished, as she took out something small and finely furred. For a moment he didn't understand, and then, with a shock, he saw what it was. A kitten! Anna had bought him a kitten!
He made a sound of delight, then, getting to his feet, took a step toward her, bending close to look at the tiny thing she held.
It was beautiful. Its fur was the color of the desert sand at sunset, while its eyes were great saucers of green that blinked twice then stared back at him curiously. In all it was no bigger than one of Anna's hands. "What is it called?" he asked. "She's called Pahket."
"Pahket?" Amis looked up at his grandmother, frowning, then reached out and gently stroked the kittens neck.
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"The names an ancient one. The eldest of the traders said it was a lucky name."
"Maybe," Amis said uncertainly, "but it doesn't feel right. Look at her. She's like a tiny flame." He smiled as the kitten pressed against his hand and began to purr noisily.
"Then maybe you should call her that."
"Flame?"
Anna nodded. She watched her grandson a moment, then spoke again. "There's a small clay bowl in the kitchen . . ."
Atrus looked up. "The blue one?"
"Yes. Flame can use it. In fact, she could probably do with some water now, having been in that sack."
Atrus smiled, then, as if he'd done it all his infant life, picked the kitten up with one hand, cradling it against his side, and carried her across, vaulting up the steps in twos and threes before ducking inside the kitchen. A moment later he reemerged, the bowl in his other hand.
"Come on, Flame," he said, speaking softly to the kitten as if it were a child, his thumb gently rubbing the top of its head, "let's get you a drink."
As darkness fell, Atrus sat on the narrow balcony that ran the length of the outer sleeping chamber, the dozing kitten curled beside him on the cool stone ledge as
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he stared up at the moon. It had been a wonderful day, but like all days it had to end. Below and to his right, he could see his grandmother, framed in the brightly lit window of the kitchen, a small oil lamp casting its soft yellow glow over her face and upper arms as she worked, preparing a tray of cakes. They, like the kitten, were a treat, to celebrate his seventh birthday in two day's time.
The thought of it made him smile, yet into his joy seeped an element of restlessness. Happy as he was here with his grandmother, he had recently begun to feel that there was more than this. There bad to be.
He looked past the moon, following a line of stars until he found the belt of the hunter, tracing the shape of the hunter's bow in the night sky as his grandmother had taught him. There were so many things to know, so many things yet to learn.
And when I've learned them all, grandmother?
He remembered how she had laughed at that, then leaned toward him. There's never an end to learning, Atrus. There are more things in this universe, yes, and more universes, than we could ever hope to know,
And though he did not quite understand what she had meant by that, simply staring at the vastness of the night sky gave him some tiny inkling of the problem. Yet he was curious to know all he couldЧas curious as the sleeping kitten beside him was indolent.
He looked down from that vastness. All about him
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the cleft was dotted with tiny lights that glowed warmly in the darkness.
"Atrus?"
He turned, looking up as Anna came and crouched beside him on the narrow ledge. "Yes, grandmother?"
"You have a lot to write in your journal today."
Atrus smiled, then stroked the kitten, petting it between the ears, and feeling it push back against his fingers.
"I wrote it earlier, while you were in the storeroom."
"Ah ..." She reached out, gently brushing the kitten's flank with the backs of her fingers. "And how goes your experiment?"
"Which one?" he asked, suddenly eager.
"Your measurements. I saw you out there earlier."
For nearly six months now Atrus had been studying the movement of the dunes on the far side of the volcano. He had placed a series of long stakes deep into the sand along the dune's edge, then had watched, meticulously measuring the daily movement of the dune, using the stakes as his baseline, then marking those measurements down on a chart in the back of his journal.
"I've almost finished," he said, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight, "Another few weeks and I'll have my results."
Anna smiled at that, amused and yet proud of the care he took. There was no doubting it, Atrus had a
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fine mindЧa true explorers mindЧand a curiosity to match.
"And have you a theory?" she asked, noting how he sat up straighter to answer her.
"They move," he answered.