"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Black Throne 01 - The Black Queen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)mountainside.
His entire body was tense. What he had thought a reward for progress in his studies was turning out to be something else altogether. A test of some sort. A decision, perhaps already made, to treat him differently than the other students or to make him leave. He didnтАЩt want to leave. He was born a Visionary, the most powerful Visionary in the history of the Fey, and a Visionary had two choices: he could lead or he could become a Shaman. Gift had had a taste of leadership. He had seen the compromises it caused, the responsibility it held for other peopleтАЩs lives. He had seen how Visionary Leadership could be corrupted, and how such a Leader could often rely on no one but himself. Visionary Leadership also required a harshness, a warriorтАЩs nature, a willingness to sacrifice one life for the good of all others. Gift had watched his grandfather, his great-grandfather, his father, and now his sister make such decisions. He wanted no part of it. The life of the Shaman appealed to him. Never did a Shaman take a life. If he did, he would lose his powers. The ShamanтАЩs nature was at its heart peaceful. Madot had once said that put Shaman at odds with all the rest of the Fey. At the time, Gift hadnтАЩt cared. His sister Arianna, in her role as Black Queen of the Fey, had been attempting to alter the nature of the Fey. She wasnтАЩt full Fey any more than he was, and she had been raised an Islander. For fifteen years she had held the Fey Empire together using diplomacy and tact. Before that the Fey Empire had been a conquering empire, and its hereditary ruler was often the best warrior among the Fey. Arianna had a warriorтАЩs spirit, but she lacked the conquerorтАЩs drive. She believed the Empire would become stronger by consolidating its holdings, and using its resources to grow richer, not to expand. So far, it had been working. In fact, it had been working so well that Gift felt he could leave her side and immerse himself in his apprenticeship. inherit her Throne. The Black Throne only went to those of Black Blood. The Black Blood passed through his mother, Jewel. Gift was the eldest. Arianna only held the throne because he had given it to her willingly. It had been something he felt she was more suited to than he. He knew better than to ask Madot any more about the Warning. She would answer him in her own time. She led him to the stairs. They were ancient and well tended, carved out of the mountainside. Their surface was smooth and shiny, but not slick. Every morning and every evening, one of the Protectors swept the stairs. Once a week, another Protector washed them. If the stone cracked or wore too thin, the Shaman told one of the Infantry when the food deliveries came, and within the week, Domestics who specialized in stone masonry arrived to fix the problem. The Domestics also spelled the stairs so that no one could slip on them or fall down them. The spells were as ancient as the stone, and in all the centuries that the Protectors had guarded the Place of Power, no one had been injured climbing to or from the cave. As he climbed beside Madot, Gift wondered if the Domestics also spelled the stairs to make the trip easier. His legs felt lighter, as if the muscles in his thighs had to do no work at all. He almost felt as if he could sprint up the mountainside, but he restrained himself. The climb was a long one, and he knew that running would only exhaust himself later. So he savored the trip. The ancient staircase was carved deep into the rocks, and as he moved, he could see the veins of red running beneath the surface, like blood beneath the skin. Partway up, he traced a finger along one of the veins: it was warmer than he expected. Madot watched his movement, and smiled. She said little and that was not like her. Usually she used every moment to teach him. There were seven apprentices in Protectors Village right now, and most were taught by |
|
|