"Kate Novak - Finders Stone 1 - Azure Bonds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Novak Kate)

yawning but not cross. A corpulent, pasty-faced man, he waddled forward to
unbar
the gates.
"I must speak with your superior immediately," Alias demanded. "This is an
emergency."
The priest bowed as much as his bulk would allow and stood up again, grinning.
"Curate Winefiddle at your service. An improbable name for a priest, I know,
but
we must play the cards we're dealt, right? I'm afraid, lady, that I'm all
there
is. His worship and the others are helping the minions of Tyr with healing and
resurrecting the would-be dragon slayers. Unless, by my superiors, you meant
to
have a word with Lady Luck herself. It's possible, but very costly, in more
ways
than one. I wouldn't recommend it."
Alias shook her head. Before the curate could babble anymore, she burst out,
"I
need a curse removed."
"Now, that does sound serious. Come in." Winefiddle ushered her past the
silver-plated altar to Tymora, Lady Luck, and into a private study for an
audience. An oil lamp lit the musty chamber. Dark oak cabinets lined the
walls.
A single, high window framed the night sky. The curate offered her a seat and
plopped down into a chair beside her.
"Now, tell me about this curse," he prompted her.
Alias explained how she'd awakened after her unusually long sleep and
discovered
the tattoo on her arm. At a loss for any other theory, she told him the
barkeep's story that she was a drunk left on the doorstep of The Hidden Lady.
Then, she related what had happened when the Turmish merchant-mage had cast a
spell to detect magic on the tattoo. "I don't remember getting itтАФthe tattoo,"
she concluded. "I would never have agreed to it, not even drunk. This has to
be
some sort of stupid prank pulled on me while I was unconscious, but I have no
idea who would have done it."
Alias did not bother to mention her hazy memory of the past few weeksтАФit was
too
embarrassingтАФand she omitted the incident with the lizard as inconsequential.
Curate Winefiddle nodded reassuringly, as if Alias had brought him nothing
more
troublesome than a kitten with earmites. "No problem," he declared. "There
remains only the question of how you would like to arrange payment?"
Alias knew from experience that her coins were an insufficient "offering." She
pulled out the only real valuable in her money sackтАФthe small, greenish gem.
Winefiddle accepted the terms with a smile and a nod. "No. Don't put it
there,"
he admonished her before she set it down on the desk. "Very unlucky. Drop it
in
the poor box as you leave."