"Mickey Zucker Reichert - Renshai 01 - The Last Of The Renshai" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichert Mickey Zucker)

the hands of his people, believing it safe there. The Renshai had plundered the huge sapphire, and it
would violate Wizards' vows for Shadimar to take it back by force. He gathered breath to barrage
Carcophan for his insensitivity.



Before Shadimar could speak, a presence touched his mind. Though calm and peaceful, it startled him
into silence. Only the Wizards could communicate in this fashion, and then only with other Wizards. Yet it
was considered disrespectful to the point of assault to enter another's mind without invitation.



Tokar did not probe or search. His voice filled only a tiny, shallow portion of Shadimar's mind. "Best not
to imitate the Evil One's weaknesses. You are above that." Then the presence disappeared.



Shock shattered Shadimar's anger. Though Tokar had phrased his warning carefully, it still came as a
surprise. It made sense for the oldest and wisest of the Wizards to advise the youngest and weakest,
especially since the Eastern and Western Wizards shared the burden of balancing good and evil and
protecting the peoples of the area known as the Westlands. Yet Tokar, like the Western Wizards before
him, was the most powerful and aloof of the four. He had never previously chosen to communicate with
Shadimar in this manner. The Eastern Wizard could only guess that the tension of discovering whether his
chosen successor had passed the task touched Tokar more than his quiet exterior revealed.



Subdued and forgotten on the floor, Davrin strummed a string of chords on his mandolin, the sound
barely audible in the silence that followed Carcophan's accusation. A square-cut shroud of gray-flecked
brown hair hid the bard's dark eyes and placid features. He had no purpose in the ceremony except to
observe and record like his mother before him and her father before her.



Put off by Shadimar's lack of response, Carcophan whirled toward Trilless, with a suddenness that sent
his salt-and-pepper hair whipping into a wild tangle.



The Sorceress remained still, not sparing the Southern Wizard so much as a glance.



Carcophan edged toward her, presumably to agitate. But before he could take a second step, a door
that had not existed a moment before opened in the far wall, and Tokar's apprentice appeared through it.
Haim's normally rosy Pudarian features looked a waxy yellow. Though only in his mid-twenties, he now
had white hairs hanging conspicuously among his dark curls. He seemed to have aged a century since the
combined Wizards' magics had sent him to the Tasks earlier that same day. He tottered forward, eyes
moist and features shaken.