"Andre Norton - Oak, Yew, Ash & Rowan 3 - A Crown Disowned" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

A Crown Disowned by Andre Norotn

Prologue

In the Cave of the Weavers, the Youngest of the Three sat a little apart from her sisters, struggling with a
section of the Web Everlasting that seemed to resist her every effort to create harmony and order. The
pattern beneath her fingers had not, as yet, unfolded or revealed itself to her. She knew only that every
time she tried to work on this particular design and make clear what could only be glimpsed in what
resembled a heavy snowstorm, very few threads she added sank into and became a part of the Web.
The rest crumbled into dust.

"It is not yet time, sister," the middle one of the Three had told her when that part of their eternal work
kept drawing her attention. The Middle Sister was an imperturbable sort, neither as sentimental as the
Youngest nor as crusty as the Eldest. "But soon. Yes, very soon."

The Youngest glanced back at the Web where work was complete, or nearly so. All had become white,
as if heavy snow fell most of the time, and yet the pattern was not obscured elsewhere as it was here.
"You told me that the spot just past, where the joining of the ill-omened brought with it a shift in the
pattern, would also make clear this one."

The Youngest indicated a particular snarl of white, where the Web of Time accepted no thread of color
except for the occasional strand of redтАФthe color of bloodтАФand where fell shapes moved obscurely on
hidden business of their own.

Once she had recoiled from them. Later, searching that portion of the Web already woven, she had
discovered their dreadful origins. Now she could not let them be. "We know there is horror here, but the
Web has yet to tell us what it is."

"Come and work with us. Leave the past alone and do not inquire into the future.

Work for today. When tomorrow is ready, it will tell us. You know that."

"Aye, you have always known that," said the Eldest. She looked up from her work and frowned. "But
then, you were always ready to rush ahead, to find out what lay in store for those whose lives weave in
and out of the Web of Time."

"Is it really forbidden to care about them? They are so frail, so short-livedтАж"

"Again I will tell you, and this time I hope you listen, for you have not heeded me before. The affairs of
mortals, frail and fleeting as they are, must not concern us."

"The Web is fighting you because you are trying to change it," said the Middle

Sister.

"Let it form as it will," the Eldest said sternly, "for we cannot take pity on the ones whose lives are
interwoven in it. To do so would be to create a tangle that could never be put straight again. Please do
not speak of it again."

The Youngest looked away, unable to bear either the op-probation of her sisters or the hideous segment