"Christine W. Murphy - At Your Command" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Christine W)

Boy turned and ran, dropping the apple he'd so skillfully taken from the vendor's stand.
The guard called after him shaking his fist. "You're next, Boy. I'll see your head roll in the dirt."
The words still rang in Boy's ears. He hadn't been back to his master since. And the collar placed
around his neck, to keep him from eating any food he might find the courage to steal, kept growing
tighter.
A quick look around the fire confirmed his lot was far worse than his fellows. Tandia might not like
whatever it was her father made her do with the men who visited his tent, but she was well fed, owned
two dresses and was hardly ever beaten. Owl would be all right if he survived until he was big enough to
claim his share of the food at home. At least his mother had died, Boy's had simply left.
The two black-haired girls across the fire from him, their heads together, had secure futures, one with
a potter, the other with a maker of cloth. Then there were the twin boys and their sister, all of them with
strange red hair of various degrees of brightness. Their father ran the only inn in the area. They
complained about their work and the roughness of the customers, but they seldom went without supper.
Boy had two choices, starve or lose his head in the Town Square.
Before he could decide which death he preferred, a wind descended from the heavens and put out
their fire. Instinctively, he grabbed the bowl in front of him and wrapped it in a loose end of his loincloth.
Then he tried to decide which way to run.
Owl pointed upward and they looked at the star-filled sky, a blanket of black studded with laughing
lights. Boy had never found comfort in the stars. Cold, unfeeling eyes of the gods, his master had told
him. Gods who amused themselves by watching the futile struggles of men as they sought to avoid their
fate, eternal torture in the pit of death.
The stars vanished.
Prince broke ranks first. His finely embroidered tunic dragged in the ashes as he ran from the shadow
that threatened to swallow the sky.
Tandia pulled Boy to his feet. He grabbed Owl and tucked the five-year-old under his arm. Together,
the three followed their friends, screaming as they ran toward town. The bowl Boy carried dragged on
his only piece of clothing, where it became tangled in his feet. He paused long enough to kick himself free
and continued on, naked.
Wind whipped their legs, turning them in circles before they could travel half the distance to safety.
Laughter sounded behind them, then in front. All around them, a spinning figure in white waved his arms,
his sex made clear by the beard that seemed to precede him. The nine friends fell on each other.
When they lay panting on the ground, unable to move, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion, the words
began.
Magic words.
Boy held his breath and waited for the wizard to turn him into stone or transmute him into a beast.
Nothing happened.
Nothing happened to Boy or to his friends. Something happened to the world.
It grew large around them.
The giant wizard bent, his hand as big as the sky. Without a word, he scooped them from the ground
and dropped them into his pocket.


Chapter 1
MAGGIE SLID her foot forward another inch. Her father's arm pressed hot against hers as they
stutter-stepped down the aisle. When she tried to shake off his touch to keep his sweat from staining the
delicate fabric of her white gown, he clutched her more tightly.
At this rate, it would take forever to reach the altar, which, oddly enough, didn't bother her. She
studied the welcome distraction of the stained glass windows that lined both sides of the narrow country
church. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John--old friends in fractured glass--stared down at her.
The windows had entertained her as a child while she endured the minister's interminable, hour-long