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

"That he never did, my lady," admitted the old woman. "He and my grandson have
been friends all their lives. There's nothing odd about Pasco. Just as ordinary
as mud, 'less he starts showing more of a knack for har rier work."
"Not quite like mud, Gran," protested the boy Osa.
To Pasco's deep embarrassment, Osa told the ladyЧand by then,Duke Vedris, who
had ridden over to listenЧof the other times Pasco had danced for luck, and
gotten what he'd danced for. Pasco stared at the sand, wishing he could just
leap into one of the fishing boats now being launched.
When Osa finished, the duke leaned forward in the saddle. "Pasco AcalonЧyou are
related to Macarin and Edoar Acalon?"
Pasco bowed to Duke Vedris. "My father and my grandfather, your grace."
"Then your mother was Zahra Qais before her marriage, and your maternal
grandfather is Abbas Qais." The: dukes quiet voice was soothing. With a smile:
he added, "'Were: all my servants as faithful and thorough as the Qaises and the
Acalons of the Provost's Guard, I would be the most fortunate ruler on earth. My
dear," he said to the: young lady, "is it possible you are mis taken?"
"No, Uncle," the lady replied. She: slid cool fingers under Pasco's chin and
forced him to look up, to meet her eyes. "I didn't mean to startle you, but you
do have power, If you didn't know it, then you need a teacher."
"My dear, before you began to rearrange his life, did you introduce yourself to
this poor lad?" inquired the duke.
The lady stared up at him, startled, then started to grin. Quickly she bit on
her lip until she was able to look at Pasco with a straight face. Her fingers
never so much as twitched from their position under his chin. "I'm sorry. I'm
used to everyone already knowing who I am. I'm Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, the
duke's great-niece."
Pasco blinked at her for a moment, dazed. It was such a pretty name, as pretty
as she wasЧthen his mind began to work again. Sandrilene fa Toren. Any resident
of Summersea over the last four years would know that name, and know it well.
She was part of a quartet of young mages who had come to live in the temple city
of Winding Circle, outside Summersea. First, they had managed to survive an
earthquake while trapped under ground. They had next destroyed a pirate fleet,
then gone to the northern mountains to tame entire forests as they burned. They
came back to the coast in time to help end the blue pox plague of 1036. Everyone
told stories about them, including tales of the girl who wove bandages with the
power to heal and veils that made the wearer as good as invisible. In a world in
which mages were as common as architects or jewelers, Lady Sandrilene and her
three friends were on their way to becoming great mages, the very best of their
kind.
"Not meaning any disrespect, your ladyship," Pasco told her earnestly, "but
rnaybe the magic's in the net. I'dve known if I was magic, 'deed I would." My
family would never let me hear the end of it, he thought.
Her eyebrows, fine gold-brown crescents, rose. "You may not have," she replied
firmly. "I didn't know until I was tenЧjust before I came here, in fact. My
three friends didn't know until they came here, either, and Tris was inspected
by a magic-finder. Some talents run very deep, Pasco Acalon. I think yours is
one."
"Your grace!" A boy on a pony galloped onto the sand from the Harbor Road. He'd
been riding hard: the pony was covered in sweat as they drew up next to Vedris's
horse. The messenger wore the provost's colors. "They told me you rode this