"Melanie Rawn - Spellbinder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rawn Melanie)

"This is her Measure, attested true," Ian said, withdrawing the sealed cord from his
pocket, letting it hang full-length from his blackthorn wand.
"And by me, attested," Holly said.
"Her breath and sweat and the touch of her skin are upon it," Ian went on.
"Also by me attested. And the Spell bound."
Elias nodded, accepting the cord onto (he hilt of his dagger. Air, Water, Earth тАФ he
had only to add Fire and she would know agonies -whenever she attempted magic,
until and unless he canceled the spell. But that was for her next offense тАФ and
offense there would be, he was sure of it. Denise was a thrill-seeker, an adrenaline
junkie, and a fool. She wouldn't be within a thousand miles of his jurisdiction if he
hadn't owed Jean-Michel for helping with the renegade Seax Wiccans last spring.
Being a Magistrate was work enough, and they all helped each other out when
needed, but presiding over New York and environs could be especially bothersome
at times.
Elias examined the seamless golden cord looped nine times around his athame. If cut
slightly, so as to (ray just a bit, Denise would do no more magic, ever. If it was
severed, she would die. But Denise was merely an idiot, not a criminal. He had seen
that death done once -the slow slicing of twisted rope so that each faculty, each
Talent, each sense, down to the smallest particle o( self-hood, unraveled and
vanished.
"This is her Measure," he said, shaking off the memory, "to be kept safe by me until
such time as judgment is required. Agreed? '
"So mote it be," came the responses.
Stepping around the Circle, he held out the cord to the four guardians. Each
murmured a brief wish that their wands encouraged. Simon's ancient apple-wood
coaxed the healing of Denise's spirit; Martin's polished blackthorn would enjoin her
obedience; Kate's hazel awakened hidden wisdom (which Elias sincerely doubted
Denise would recognize if it bit her in the ass, but he supposed they had to go
through the motions).
When he got to Lydia, whose elmwood wand was useful for work with the shadowy
side of a psyche, he saw that her gentle brown eyes were unfocused, staring at the
nothingness beyond the Circle. He approached cautiously, scowling his worry.
Lydia touched her wand to the cordтАФand suddenly screamed. Trembling as if her
slight bones would shatter, she gasped for breaths that left her lungs in high-pitched
keenings of terror. Her thurible gushed smoke and her candle flared wildly at her
feet, sparking rainbow fire from the opal on her hand as she pointed into the
shadows.
"Swastika!" she cried. "Swastika!"
Kate dug into her robes for something to calm her. Martin raised his black-handled
athame in instinctive defense, looking in vain for something to defend against. Simon
passed his hand over his chalice, muttering swiftly. Elias let dagger and cord drop
and grasped Lydia's shoulders.
"What is it?" he demanded. "What else do you see?"
"Swastika and crossтАФ-flames тАФ" Sobbing and shivering, she looked beyond him,
beyond everything that was real to him. What she saw was more than real to her.
"The chalice and the spearтАФravensтАФand th~thefire-~Sge! Tdutu'neli'gal" Her eyes
rolled up into her skull and with a final shudder she collapsed into Elias s arms.
He swung her up, away from the candle, and snapped an order for the Circle to be
opened. Kate did the work after tossing a packet of herbs to Simon, who mixed
them swiftly in clean water. By the time Elias had placed Lydia on the chaise in the