"Sheri S. Tepper - Dervish Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE
Just across the chasm from the town of Zog a bunch of
wild brats with crossbows - and poisoned arrows, to
add to the general sense of fun - had given us quite a
run. We'd barely gotten away from them with our skins
whole.
There had been constant storm damage blocking the
roads, continuous sullen clouds, and a threatening
mutter of sentient-seeming thunder.
I had a huge, aching lump on my forehead from not
being quick enough ducking into the wagon during the
hail storm four days before. Hail the size of goose eggs!
Add to that the remains we kept finding along the
way, more and more of them as we went farther north.
Human remains, mostly, and the yellow dream crystals
that had killed them.
Throw in the fact we'd been driving two days and
nights without sleep, dodging shadow, which seemed
to be everywhere.
Then season the whole horrid mess with a harsh
scream as a night bird plummeted across the moonlit
sky screeching, 'Lovely dead meat, not even rotten yet!'
I understood it as easily as though it had been
shouted at me by some old dame in the underbrush.
The bird's cry said 'human meat,' not some luckless
zeller killed by a pombi's claws. I put my hand over
Queynt's where they lay on the reins.
He snapped out of his doze, immediately alert, as I
reached beneath the wagon seat for my bow. 'More
trouble ahead,' I said wearily, nocking an arrow.
Queynt yawned, giving my bow a doubtful look.
Though he had been teaching me to shoot with the
stated intention of providing for the pot, my inability to
hit anything smaller than a gnarlibar had become a
joke. They had begun to call natural landmarks that
were suitably huge a 'good target for Jinian.' The
problem was that I couldn't shoot anything that talked
to me. Oh, if someone else shot it, I could eat it, and if
something came at me with unpleasant intent, I was
able to kill it readily enough no matter what it was


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CHAPTER ONE

saying. Bunwits and zeller and tree rats, however, were
safe from my arrows so long as they said good morning
politely. I hadn't discussed this with Queynt, though I