"Jody Lynn Nye - School Of Light" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nye Jody Lynn)

up the linoleum-covered steps, floor after floor after floor, until her arms were sore and her feet were numb.
The stairwell walls had once been painted a cream color. From the edge of the banister to above JueleтАЩs
head, the paint had been smudged brown-gray by a thousand passing hands, and the plaster was chipped. The
stairs spiraled around and up until, when Juele glanced over the banister to the bottom, the lowest levels had
vanished in the dark and the sounds in the courtyard had faded to distant murmurs.
At the top a skylight was set into the ceiling. Between festoons of ancient cobwebs, light forced its way
through the small, grimy panes of glass. Under the skylight was a grubby, brown varnished door that seemed
feet shorter than the ones on the lower levels.
тАЬHere we are,тАЭ Rutaro said. тАЬSixteen-D.тАЭ They passed into a very small reception hall with another sad--
looking skylight. In the wall on each side were two small doors with tarnished letters in the center panel at
eye level. Rutaro perused the admission letter again and pointed to the fourth door.
тАЬYours,тАЭ he said.
The door was smaller and more battered than the one at the top of the stairs. Juele opened it. The room
was tiny, and there were two beds in it. She didnтАЩt even get a room to herself. JueleтАЩs heart sank.
тАЬOh, well,тАЭ Juele said, bravely. тАЬIтАЩm just happy to be here.тАЭ
Rutaro didnтАЩt seem to hear her. He was good at ignoring things. He stood to the side to usher her in, then
turned to go.
тАЬGet yourself settled,тАЭ he said, over his shoulder, as he made for the stairs. тАЬYou can just make your first
afternoon class in symbology if you hurry. YouтАЩll find Mr. Lightlow quite adequate. I must go to Peppardine
before I change too much. See you again at dinner.тАЭ
тАЬThank you,тАЭ Juele called, but he was gone. She heard his boot soles clatter away downward.
She turned to examine her new home. It was a very small room. The dingy, yellowing plaster on the walls
was cracked, and the only window was high up and very dirty. At the narrow end of the room under a candle
sconce stood a single study table and chair. The two beds offered neither privacy nor comfort. They were
only a pace apart on the brown-planked floor, and the mattresses were thin enough to pinch between her
thumb and forefinger. Juele sniffed. It smelled musty in here, the odor of ages.
She felt miserable enough to cry. Was this the nicest place they could offer her? She had felt so special to
be able to come here, one of the chosen few among all aspiring artists in the kingdom, and they had given
her a cramped little attic to live in. In a single day sheтАЩd gone from being loved and admired in Wandering,
the best, a prodigy, a privileged character, to an insignificance in the SchoolтАЩs smallest and most wretched
accommodation. Was this how things would be here? Should she just take her things and go home? But she
couldnтАЩt. To learn at the School of Light was her dream. No matter what it took, she would stay.
She must not let physical surroundings break her spirit. CouldnтАЩt she fix it up with illusions? WasnтАЩt her
skill, after all, what had brought her here in the first place? She looked at the two beds, deciding which one
would be more comfortable. The one nearest the door had a teddy bear seated against the flat pillow. The
window was in the wall opposite, so what little light they got would fall on that bed. Juele approached it,
trying to judge if the morning sun would hit the pillow, or not. She liked to get up with the sunrise. As she
made to sit down, the teddy bear blinked its shoe-button eyes at her and growled fiercely, its stitched red
mouth opening to show a set of sharp, white fangs. That bed had been claimed by her new roommate, and
sheтАЩd left her toy behind to hold her place.
тАЬAll right, IтАЩll take the other,тАЭ Juele said. She backed away, hands up, and the teddy relaxed and resumed
its backstitched smile.
The other bed was on the shadowy side. Juele sat down on it beside her art box and held the battered case
to her for comfort. She felt so lonely. Her friends, her family, and her teachers back in Wandering had been
her support group. Could she sustain the promise that she had shown at home without them? Would she
make it here? Would she disappoint everybody? Or herself? She had the talent; she knew that. But could she
do anything with it that mattered?
She hoped she could make friends. Everyone here seemed so cool, so self-assured, so busy. Here she had
hoped to find the peer group of which she had always dreamed, the ones who understood her passions, and
shared the same kind of talents, so she wouldnтАЩt be the only one who knew what she was talking about. She