"Jack Vance - The Dying Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

"ThenтАФI love you, my sister. I kill no more, and I will find and know
beauty on Earth or die."
T'sais mounted her horse and set out for Earth, seeking love and beauty.
T'sain stood in the doorway, watching her sister ride off through the
colors. Behind her came a shout, and Turjan approached.
"T'sain! Has that frenzied witch harmed you?" He did not wait for a reply.
"Enough! I kill her with a spell, that she may wreak no more pain."
He turned to voice a terrible charm of fire, but T'sain put her hand to
his mouth.
"No, Turjan, you must not. She has promised to kill no more. She goes to
Earth seeking what she may not find in Embelyon."
So Turjan and T'sain watched T'sais disappear across the many-colored
meadow.
"Turjan," spoke T'sain.
"What is your wish?"
"When we come to Earth, will you find me a black horse like that of
T'sais?"
"Indeed," said Turjan, laughing, as they started back to the house of
Pandelume.

2. MAZIRIAN THE MAGICIAN



DEEP IN thought, Mazirian the Magician walked his garden. Trees fruited with
many intoxications overhung his path, and flowers bowed obsequiously as he
passed. An inch above the ground, dull as agates, the eyes of mandrakes
followed the tread of his black-slippered feet. Such was Mazirian's
gardenтАФthree terraces growing with strange and wonderful vegetations. Certain
plants swam with changing iridescences; others held up blooms pulsing like
sea-anemones, purple, green, lilac, pink, yellow. Here grew trees like feather
parasols, trees with transparent trunks threaded with red and yellow veins,
trees with foliage like metal foil, each leaf a different metalтАФcopper,
silver, blue tantalum, bronze, green indium. Here blooms like bubbles tugged
gently upward from glazed green leaves, there a shrub bore a thousand
pipe-shaped blossoms, each whistling softly to make music of the ancient
Earth, of the ruby-red sunlight, water seeping through black soil, the languid
winds. And beyond the roqual hedge the trees of the forest made a tall wall of
mystery. In this waning hour of Earth's life no man could count himself
familiar with the glens, the glades, the dells and deeps, the secluded
clearings, the ruined pavilions, the sun-dappled pleasaunces, the gullys and
heights, the various brooks, freshets, ponds, the meadows, thickets, brakes
and rocky outcrops.
Mazirian paced his garden with a brow frowning in thought. His step was
slow and his arms were clenched behind his back. There was one who had brought
him puzzlement, doubt, and a great desire: a delightful woman-creature who
dwelt in the woods. She came to his garden half-laughing and always wary,
riding a black horse with eyes like golden crystals. Many times had Mazirian
tried to take her; always her horse had borne her from his varied enticements,
threats, and subterfuges.