"John Morressy - Cold Comfort" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

COLD COMFORT
By John Morressy

TRAVEL, ESPECIALLY IN wintertime, was not one of KedrigernтАЩs delights. But
when an old and faithful client begs for help, a wizard cannot resist. And when the
client is Vosconu the Openhanded, travel is sure to be rewarded with prompt and
generous payment. Thus it was that Kedrigern departed from his home on Silent
Thunder Mountain in the midst of a cold snap, and returned a month later, in the
thick of a snowstorm, to find his wife and house-troll gone.

The house was in perfect condition, tidy and orderly, not so much as a dish
out of place. There had been no struggle. A careful search revealed no note, nothing
missing, and no sign of an intruder. They were simply gone, utterly gone, without a
trace.

The first thing Kedrigern did after getting over his initial surprise was to lay a
fire. The house was frigid with more than usual cold. Clearly, it had been unoccupied
since shortly after his departure. He could only be grateful that the doors and
windows had been shut. When the fire had caught, and warmth had begun to seep
slowly from the fireplace, he drew up a chair, put his feet on the hob, and tried to
reason out what might have happened.

No one had burst in and carried them off. There was no sign of forced entry.
Besides, Spot would have put up a fight and Princess would have used her magic to
resist. So that was out as a possibility.

She might have received an urgent summons, and departed instantly with Spot
for protection and company. In such a case, she would have packed a few items of
clothing тАФ a cloak, at the very least тАФ and left a note. But nothing was missing
from her closets. And who would summon her so, and with such urgency that she
would depart forthwith, and not await KedrigernтАЩs return? That, too, seemed an
unlikely explanation.

What remained was magic. Enchantment. Wizardry. A spell, charm, cantrip,
incantation, conjuration, or some such thing, and of a very high quality. That was a
distinct possibility. The more Kedrigern thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

He roused himself, drew out the medallion that hung around his neck, and
raised it to his eye. Peering through the Aperture of True Vision, he surveyed the
room, sweeping it quickly at first, then more slowly, and finally studying it inch by
inch.

On the floor near the doorway he found the first trace of magic, faint but
unmistakable. With great effort he was able to trace a path of footsteps from the
outside door into the great room. Someone magical had entered, quite openly from
the look of the steps, and been received in this very room. This, presumably, was
the person who had carried, or led, his wife and house-troll off to parts unknown.

The residue of the footsteps was so slight and faint that Kedrigern could learn
nothing more from them without assistance. He went at once to his workroom, still