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

stood up on the bed to look out the little window and saw the figure of Rutaro in his ruffled shirt just
disappearing beneath the arch leading to the next quadrangle. He was just amazing. The way he could
instantly create a moving illusion on the palm of his handтАФso complex it would have taken Juele hoursтАФ
just filled her with awe. She was fascinated by all the little things in the image she hadnтАЩt understood, like
the golden circle painted on the ground around the feet of the three children, and the various flowers. All that
seemed very significant. She wondered if Rutaro would be a friend. If he accepted Juele, she knew she
should be able to get along with some of the others. But she didnтАЩt want to hang on him. SheтАЩd make her
own way. It was just going to be a little lonely at first.
She unpacked her few belongings into the chest at the end of her bed. To her surprise, the low box made
room for everything she put in it. It was even more of a holdall than the suitcase, which was sometimes a
steamer trunk, that she had borrowed from her uncle. She guessed that the box might once have been a whole
closet in a nicer house. Someone who didnтАЩt want it any more had donated it to the School, where, form
following function, it took the shape of a dreary chest in a dreary dormitory. Well, it did its job. That was all
she asked of it. The room did its job, too. It would be a place for her to sleep and sometimes, when her
roommate didnтАЩt need the desk, study. She didnтАЩt expect to be spending very much more time in there except
for that.
The last garment in her case was a new pink smock, made for her by her mother, whose own artistic bent
showed in her talent for sewing. Juele shook out the smock with satisfaction and laid it on the bed to admire
the half-length sleeves and the gathers at the shoulders. This was an occasion. She wished her parents and
friends could be here to see her put it on for the first time.
But this room was an awful setting for a special moment. Juele stood up and put her hands on her hips.
The terrible paint would have to go, for a start. Holding out her hands, she spun a rainbow between them in
the air and scrolled it back and forth to see the colors. Maybe a light pink or yellow, just enough to cheer up
the room. It was a pity that her talent for the manipulation of dreamstuff didnтАЩt extend as far as her talent for
illusion. Then, she could change the paint. But Rutaro said using matter was cheating, so she wanted to get
out of the habit.
The arc of color bowed up and out between her hands, a trick that had always delighted little children at
birthday parties. She brought her hands together to compress the ribbon at the red end of the spectrum. Yes,
a nice shell pink. She narrowed her hands around that swatch of color, kept it in her mind, then spread it out
as wide and smooth as she could and pinned it in place on the wall over her bed with tacks of thought. Oh,
that was much better!
She continued to spread the pink over the walls, pushing the illusion up into the corners with a shove of
her palms until the whole dark cube glowed with cheery warmth. Even the sad window seemed to shed more
light. Juele felt more optimistic as she changed out of her traveling clothes and laid out a fresh blouse and
skirt. Later, sheтАЩd design a handsome coverlet and, perhaps, matching curtains. She hoped her roommate
liked the same colors as she did. Maybe they could have bedspreads to match. That would be fun.
The personal facilities, as primitive as the room, consisted of large pitcher of water and a big bowl on a
stand next to the desk and a covered pail in the corner. She hoped that sometimes the pitcher and bowl
changed into a real shower, orтАФbliss!тАФeven a bathtub. She could form the illusion of a luxurious bath, but
it wouldnтАЩt affect the underlying reality of a small washbasin, as the pink hid but didnтАЩt change the cracked
paint underneath. She wasnтАЩt that good at manipulating real dreamstuff. That was hard work, and she was
not always successful. Still, it would have been nice.
Over the bowl, a small mirror hung on the wall. Juele looked at herself as she dried her face.
тАЬYouтАЩre here,тАЭ she said, and smiled at her reflection, which returned a happy grin. It was still hard to
believe that she stood in the midst of the actual, verifiable School of Light. The School, and no illusion.
Juele was surprised by the sudden sound of a bell striking three. Like everything else here, the tolling was
beautiful, but its form enhanced its function. The lovely round tone was tempered with urgency. Rutaro had
mentioned symbology class. She fumbled for the admission letter and read down it for her schedule. There it
was: Symbology, 3:00, Prism Building, room 306. Oh, no!
Juele grabbed for her clothes. She hastily buttoned up her blouseтАФwhich obstinately grew a dozen extra