"Melanie Rawn - Dragon Star 3 - Skybowl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rawn Melanie)

aunt Alasen, Saumer wondered if he could sense anything different about fire. But he saw only a
torch made of wood and pitch, and the flames were like any others he had watched in his life.
The sudden glowing quiver on the edge of his mind was made of another kind of Fire entirely.
Saumer straightened abruptly and bumped his head against the low ceiling. Havadi turned when an
annoyed exclamation left his lips.
"My lord?"
Saumer was running his gloved fingers over the dripping overhead stones. "There's something here.
Just above the rock...."


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"Urn ... yes. The moat."
"No, something in the moat." He heard what he'd said and blinked. "Why would I think a crazy thing
like that?" But in the next breath he ordered Havadi to douse the torch. "The light's distracting
me."
He stripped off his gloves in total darkness and blew on his hands to warm them. Searching with
only his eyes, he saw no telltale fiery flicker. So he closed his eyes, and, biting his lower lip,
explored the ceiling with his fingertips. The shining itched at his mind stronger here, weaker
there. He followed its pull, all formless black-rainbow iridescence, and all at once snatched his
hands back as if they'd been burned.
"Saumer! What is it?" Havadi grasped his arm.
"I don't knowтАФbut it's powerful, whatever it is." He
touched the spot again, gingerly, and again his fingertip felt burned. "How thick is this ceiling,
do you think?"
"I don't know, and unless you want the moat flooding in to drown us, we're not about to find out."
Flint struck stone, and the torch flared to life again. "Come upstairs, my lord, before you catch
a chill."
"ButтАФ" He sighed. "Oh, never mind. I'll ask Mirsath about it when I see him. But I want to mark
that place." He groped in his pockets and came up with a hoofpick. He jammed it into a seeping
crack in the rocks near the source of the glow.
They continued down the tunnel, and the water dripping through from the moat began to rival the
rainstorm outside. Saumer wouldn't have minded so much if it hadn't smelled so foul. Curiosity
about that strange black-fire shimmer gave way to the pure and simple desire for a long, hot bath
and clean, dry clothes.
They emerged at last into a circular room. The tallest staircase Saumer had ever seen spiraled
upward, lit by torches and candles. A man and woman waited for them, prudently standing a few
steps up from the ankle-deep water on the floor. Both were young, finely dressed, and had the look
of family sameness stamped on their features.
"Lord Mirsath, Lady Karanaya," Saumer said politely, glad to stretch his backbone straight again.
"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"
"Welcome to Faolain Lowland, your grace," Mirsath responded in kind, his eyes dancing with humor
at the casual exchange of pleasantries. "I hope your journey wasn't too tiring."
Karanaya gave a snort. "Next you'll be asking after the comfort of your horse. At least one of us
is practical here, your grace. Have some wine."
She turned, and from a candle-shelf took a crystal goblet footed in silver and set with gems. The
deep ruby liquid in it steamed in the chill. Saumer drank gratefully as Mirsath remarked, "I
notice you got out the princely guestcup, cousin."
"I hope I know what's due a Prince of Kierst-Isel, and a kinsman of the High Prince into the