"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - The Fey 02 - The Rival" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

He angled toward the sun, but it brought him no warmth. Instead, its harsh
light covered everything with a clarity that was almost eerie.

The mountains themselves seemed to be carved out of the blue ness of the sky.

Nothing had prepared him for those mountains. Not his Visions, not all the
talk of the Nyeians, not even a visit to the Eccrasian Mountains, the Fey's
ancestral homeland. These mountains were sheer gray stone, rubbed smooth on
the ocean side by centuries of storms, waves, and severe weather. The ocean
slammed into their base as if the water wanted to pound a hole through the
rock, and the surf sent white foam cascading into the air. Even at the
birds' height, angling upward to reach the top of those peaks, Rugad could
feel the spray pricking his exposed skin like tiny needles.

The higher they climbed, the colder he got.

That was one contingency he hadn't prepared for. He had ordered the harness
chair from the Domestics back on Nye. They had spelled a dozen different
models. Some of the rope was too thick for the Hawk Riders to hold. Some
had been so thin that it cut into the Riders' talons. This material
supported his weight and didn't put too much of a burden on the Riders above
him.

The Riders had two forms. In their Fey form, they looked nearly human,
except for their feathered hair and beaked noses. In their bird form, they
were all bird except for the small human riding on the bird's back. They
looked like tiny Fey riding on a bird, but they were, in truth, part of the
bird, their legs and
lower torso subsumed into the bird's form. The only
danger they posed in bird form was that they had two brains and sometimes the
bird's instinctual one took over.

Rugad hoped that wouldn't happen here. He had wanted the Domestics to create
a rope that the human part of the bird could hold in its hands. But the
hands were too little. They couldn't carry anything of substance.

They needed a strong, magicked fiber to lift him from the ship to the top of
those peaks. Rugad swallowed, glad he swung from the harness alone. He
wasn't certain he could mask his nervousness. His feet dangled over the
ocean. He was flying higher than he had ever been in his life, and he would
have to go higher still.

He had sent a scouting party to the top of those mountains. They had
reported a small level landing area, but he couldn't see it from here. From
here, the mountains looked as if they rose to jagged points, sharp as the
teeth of a young lion.

The birds changed their angle of flight, an5 his harness swung backward,
making his breath catch in his throat. He gripped tighter, remembering the
Domestics' admonition not to pull on the ropes. An exhilaration rose in his