"The Summoning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morgen Shelby)

She hadnТt really looked at the Mage before. Not up close. Now that she was over the initial shock ofЧof whatever had happened to herЧshe wasnТt quite ready to believe in Mages and summoning yetЧshe realized he looked tired. His mask of indifference hid more than just his emotions from those around him. She had to look hard to see the fine lines of strain around his eyes, the stoic set of his shoulders that kept them from bowing with exhaustion.

Well, perhaps there was more than one reason whatever the Mage had done was forbidden.

Marylin sat up, bracing herself against the headboard, tugging at the edges of the hide. They could have at least fetched her a robe, or a nightgown, or something. At the thought, a long silken robe of deep burgundy enveloped her. All right. Marylin took a deep breath. It wasnТt the Mage. Somehow she had done that herself, with just her thoughts. Whatever dream this was, she was going to have to be careful what she wished for. Some thoughts could be downright dangerous if allowed to become reality.

Marylin glanced at the tray the Mage carried and had to suppress her laughter. Two pieces of bread, looking like a small loaf carved in half, with a slab ofsome sort of meat between them, and a mug of milk with a froth to it, as if its original container had been shaken hard before its contents had been poured into the mug. One taste had her setting the mug aside. It was white. But there the similarity to milk ended. GoatsТ milk maybe? She would also have to be careful what she asked of the Mage.

She shook her head. She was falling into the habit of thinking of this world as reality all too easily. No. She could not allow that. Had to maintain some hold on her sanity. She leaned forward to place a light, affectionate kiss on RoanenТs cheek. УWould you give me a few minutes alone with the Mage, please, Roanen?Ф

Roanen glanced at the Mage, whose already fair face paled at the suggestion. Did Roanen look just a little guilty, like one brother running away while the other faced punishment? УAye, MТLady. As ye wish.Ф

Seated, she could almost forget how huge Roanen was, but as he moved to stand over her, bending down for a moment to press his lips to her cheek, she was once again amazed by the sheer massiveness of him. And yet one word from her, she was certain, would bring him to his knees.

She would not say the word. Not in front of him. Would not destroy the hope he clung to. To have loved as he had, and to have lost the woman he loved, only to see her brought backЕshe could not destroy that. Not with one killing blow.

For the Mage, however, she felt no such protective instinct. Marylin turned to glare at Shammall as the curtain fell shut. She gestured to the spot beside her which Roanen had just vacated. УCome here.Ф

In one stride, the Mage was beside her, kneeling as if in supplication, his hands extended, palms up, his hair a shield around his face as he bowed low enough to let its ends brush the dirt floor. УI live but to serve you, MТLady.Ф

Holy fucking Christ. What was she? Some sort of a goddess? УStop that, damn it!Ф she hissed. УGet up from there!Ф

Oh, good grief! Evidentlythat was the wrong thing to say. The Mage rocked back on his heels, tossing his hair over his shoulders as he raised his eyes to meet hers. Had she thought his face impassive? Nothing could be further from the truth. He couldnТt have looked more remorseful. The strain of whatever he had done was catching up to him. Another moment and he, too, would be sobbing in her arms. УForgive me, MТLady. I have failed you twice over this day. Whatever your judgment, I shall accept your punishment.Ф

Punishment? What sort of punishment might he be expecting to look so mortified? Would Ayailla have had him flogged? Marylin did her best to suppress the images that flew to her mind, remembering the robe and the washcloth. If what she thought became real, anger could be very, very dangerous in this reality. УIТm not angry with you, Shammall.Ф She said it out loud, in case the supplier of clothes was handy and listening. УIТmЧdo you know what you have done? Do you understand at all whatТs happened?Ф

УI have failed you, MТLady.Ф

He repeated it like a litany. Marylin sighed. УFine. You have failed me. Only you havenТt. You have failed someone called Ayailla. IТm not Ayailla. IТm Marylin. IТm from the planet Earth in the twenty-first century. Wherever, whenever, this is, I donТt belong here. And that man out there thinks youТve given him his wife back. But IТm not his wife, and when he figures that out itТs going to destroy him. HeТs already lost his wife and his unborn child. You cannot allow him to face her loss twice. You have to fix this! Whatever youТve done, you have to fix it now!Ф

The Mage raised his head, his eyes growing wider as he absorbed her meaning. УIЧMТLady, IЧif what you say is true, I know notЧI cannotЧby the gods! What have I done?Ф

Humor pulled at her lips at the MageТs obvious consternation. УYou, Shammall, have fucked up big time.Ф

УFucked up big time?Ф the Mage repeated incredulously. УMother Earth forgive me. I know not what these words mean, but I can clearly understand the sentiment. What would you have me do, MТLady?Ф

УChrist! Do? How should I know? I donТt know how you got me here, so how can I tell you how to put me back?Ф

УPut you back?Ф He blinked, slowly, staring at her as if sheТd gone daft. УYou wish to return to the realm of the dead, then, MТLady?Ф

УDead?Ф

УAye.Ф

УI wasnТt dead, you idiot! I was a little tipsy, perhaps, but not dead! I wasЧФ

УDead.Ф

УNo! I rememberЕФ What did she remember? SheТd been talking to Gray. HeТd gone off. Left her there on the settee in front of the fire. Warm. Too warm. SheТd downed the last of the Amaretto, looking for courage at the bottom of the bottle. Gone to find Gray, to tell him what sheТd wanted to all those years ago. She remembered the ocean, the waves. Could she haveЧNo. SheТd been drunk, but not drunk enough to have accidentally killed herself. No. SheТd gone back to her room. SheТd dreamed of her lover. The one who looked suspiciously like Roanen.