"Pierce, Tamora - The Circle Opens 01 - Magic Steps" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pierce Tamora)

Oama dismounted so she could speak quietly to the man, " Corporal, think about
this."' She was a straightfor ward young woman with bronze skin, a long,
straight nose, and sharp brown eyes, who wore her black hair rolled and pinned
tightly at the back of her head. Her skills as a Duke's Guard and part of the
elite Personal Guard were considerable: Sandry had watched her and her partner,
Kwaben, at combat practice and had been impressed. "You don't want to vex her,"
Oama continued. "Really."
The corporal shook his head. "Captain Qais would boot me for it, and he'd be
right."
Now Kwaben dismounted to support his partner. He was over six feet tall, black
as sable, and honed like an axe. His shaved head, combined with sharp
cheekbones, lean cheeks, and wide-set eyes, made him look as sleek and deadly as
a panther. He was as dangerous as he ap peared.
Sandry stayed on her mare. She would impress no one if she dismountedЧthe
stubborn corporal was taller than she by a head. Instead she sorted through her
magic until she found a particular cord. Shaped from her own power, it connected
her to Duke Vedris.
"Uncle, " she said clearly, feeling her voice roll down that magical tie, "I
want to be let in, please."
Everyone stared at her, even Kwaben and Oama. Onlookers in the crowd drew the
gods-circle on their chests. The Provost's Guards were made of sterner stuff.
Their hands stayed by their weapons.
Overhead, on the next story of the building, glass windows swung outward on
hinges. The duke and a man with the same light brown skin, lean cheeks, and
quirky eyebrows as Pasco leaned out.
"My dear, this is not the kind of thing a young girl should see," called Vedris.
He could hear Sandry when she used the power she had bound to him, but without
magic of his own he could not reply the same way.
Sandry looked up at him. He seemed tired, though she doubted anyone who did not
know him well would guess that. He was also shaken, though that was some thing
she felt rather than saw. "I'm no stranger to bad things, uncle. I really must
insist."
Kwaben and Oama traded looks. They had heard her say that only once, on the day
of the duke's heart attack, when his servants had tried to keep Sandry out of
his room. After she had lost precious minutes in argument with them, she had
finally insisted, in just that tone of voice. When they refused, every thread in
the hall outside the duke's roomsЧfrom tapestries, carpets, and even the
servants' clothesЧunraveled and came to life, cocooning them all. Sandry had
gone to her uncle and had spent the rest of that day with the healers, keeping
him alive with her magic until they could strengthen his heart. Kwaben and Oama
had never forgotten it.
Now, leaning out of the second floor window, the duke grimaced. He knew that
Sandry had seen things girls her age were supposed to be protected from: the
bodies of hundreds, including her parents, rotting from plague; people dying in
battle of human and magical causes; the survivors of fire, flood, and other
disasters.
"Admit her," the duke said to his uniformed compan ion. The man began to argue
as they closed the windows.
Sandry waited and tried not to drum her fingers on her saddle horn.
After a couple of minutes, the man who had tried to argue with the duke yanked