"Jo Walton - Relentlessly Mundane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Walton Jo)

Mark snorted. "No. I've come to the conclusion there's nothing to find. We were
the only people ever to go to Porphylia, if influence is anything to go by. How are
you, Jane? Pass your exams?"
"Yeah," Jane said. "I'm fully qualified now. They gave me a raise." Also since
she'd last seen Mark she'd been commended by her coach and had moved up a
grade in fencing, but he'd only scoff if she mentioned it.


"Still carrying round your survival kit, I see," Mark sniggered. He was getting a
potbelly. Jane had once stupidly let him see what she carried in the belt-pouch --
water, antibiotics, painkillers, Swiss army knife, needles, her favourite books and
an encyclopaedia on CD-ROM, a solar powered reader, a plastic coat, a
flashlight, string, a few other oddments. "They'd have been useful last time,"
she'd said when he laughed, and he had looked at her patronisingly and said that
she should grow up and accept that they weren't going back.


Tharsia brought tea in lumpy homemade cups. Tea was a taste they'd all
acquired in Porphylia and still shared. Jane took it and sat down, on something
sharp. She fished out a silver unicorn, meant as an earring. It must have fallen
off the line of them strung across the ceiling, probably knocked off by Mark, the
clumsy oaf. Jane handed it silently to Tharsia, and tried not to be irritated. She
did like Tharsia; after all, they had been best friends in school. Jane admired her
a great deal for the way she had coped in Porphylia, for how hard she had
worked to channel the magical energies she alone could handle, for how she had
risked her own life in single combat armed only with magic while Jane and Mark
held off the knights of the Doomguard and Kay lay on the floor at Tharsia's feet,
turned to stone. Jane would always remember standing in slick blood fighting for
her life against men twice her height and weight and hearing Tharsia's
declaration, "You can't hurt me, you can only kill me." It made up for a lot of
tacky unicorns and madrigal door chimes. She just wished Tharsia could find
some better way to cope with losing all that magic than pretending she still had
it. Jane sighed, and sipped her tea. Camomile. Not bad. It must be something
serious. When Tharsia was happy she tried, and failed, to make up Porphylian
blends.


"So, what is it?" Jane asked. "A dream?"


"Jane!" said Tharsia, sounding betrayed, though it had been a dream last time.
"No. A letter. The police. Apparently some schoolboy's gone missing out in the
woods, and they want me to come in and answer some questions to see if the
case has any connection with -- with Kay."


"Don't they ever give up?" Mark asked, rolling his eyes.