"Andre Norton & Lackey, Mercedes - Elvenbane 1 -The Elvenbane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

shimmering curtain of light divided the concubines' quarters from the great
hall where Lord Dyran took his ease; a visible reminder of the elven lord's
magic power. It was completely opaque and of silvery color, over which
ever-changing rainbow hues crawled and flowed. Neither light nor sound
passed the wall of liquid iridescence, and Serina felt a tingle and a hint of
resistance as she passed fearlessly through it. Her father had told her that
these curtains could be set to stun, or even kill, but that had never happened
in his lifetime. She supposed the curtain was there to prevent intruders from
entering the harem--she couldn't imagine anyone wanting to escape it.

As usual at this hour of the morning, Serina was alone in the hall. She didn't
mind; among other things, it gave her the opportunity to prowl the place and
look for any changes that the Lord might have made overnight. He was given
to using his magical powers to effect changes without warning. The most
drastic had been the time he had caused an entire jungle of plants to spring
up overnight, seemingly rooted in the floor. Rowenie had been delighted and
the entire harem had played at being shepherdesses all day--Dyran had even
indulgently created a sheep or two. The next day, the plants were gone.

Serina blinked in surprise as she looked about. There was one very obvious
change this morning: The marble mosaic floor was no longer patterned in a
delicate, pale green with pastel flowerets. Now it was a cool, deep blue, of
lapis lazuli, with no patterns at all. The cushions placed in piles at the edge
of the room had likewise changed to deeper, vivid colors. Up on the dais at
the end of the room, the Lord's couch was still the same; thickly upholstered
in his house colors of wine-red and gold, but the favorite's cushion was now
a wine-red to match. The white, unembellished walls remained the same, but
the domed, frosted skylight above them now had a center inset of vivid
stained glass in an abstract pattern of reds, blues, violets, and emeralds.
Serina could dimly see cloud shapes moving through the clear colors, and
made out a colored pattern cast by the light through the glass on the dark
blue, gold-veined floor.

Serina fingered the textured gold of her collar as she gazed about, wondering
what this change meant. Had the Lord finally tired of pastel prettiness? Did
that mean he was ready for richer fare?

A whisper of sound alerted her to the presence of someone else in the room.
She whirled, startled, at the sound of a footstep behind her.

The Lord stood, poised on the threshold of the entrance behind the dais,
waiting for her response. He was wearing his house colors, in an elaborately
draped silken tunic, one hand on his hip, the other resting on the bejeweled
hilt of his dagger. His hawklike face seemed calm, but she could see in his
eyes that he was curious about her--or her reaction to the changes he had
made.

Serina sank immediately to the floor in a graceful curtsy, her skirts falling
around her, as if she knelt in a pool of her own heart's blood. She remained
that way, head bent, staring at the velvet softness of her skirts, as the Lord's