"Martha Wells - City of Bones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wells Martha)

on the steps of the Odeon, near the prostitutes who were working the theater crowd. The ebb and flow
of the mass of people in the street held endless fascination.
There were robed and veiled Patrician men, Patrician women with their faces unveiled but their hair
hidden under flowing silk scarves or close-fitting cloisonne caps, all with servants trailing them. Litters
draped with silks and lighter gauzes carried Patricians too exalted to even walk among the throng.
The crowd from the lower tiers was less colorful but more active, some turning to climb the steps to
the pillared entrance of the vast theater at KhatтАЩs back, or continuing down the street to the wineshops
and food stalls, and the ghostcallers, fakirs, and clowns performing in the open-air forums. There were
wide-eyed visitors from other Fringe Cities and the ports of the Last Sea, babbling to each other in the
different dialects of Menian and to everyone else in pidgin Tradetongue.
There was a shout, and one of the foreigners fought his way out of the crowd, dragging a struggling
boy. Caught a thief, Khat thought. Then a group of men dressed in the dull red robes of Trade
Inspectors poured out of a nearby shop and surrounded the pair. One of them held up what looked like a
piece of scrap mythenin, and the boy began to yell denials. No, caught an idiot trying to bypass the
dealers and sell a relic for coins. Khat sighed and looked away. From the boyтАЩs threadbare robe and
bare feet he doubted he was a citizen. Soon to be a dead idiot.
The boy was a fool to be caught by such a common trick. Everyone knew that Trade Inspectors
disguised themselves as foreigners and tried to buy illegal relics or offered Imperial-minted coins to
dealers who did not possess the right licenses. SagaiтАЩs notion that the Patrician who had approached
them was a disguised Trade Inspector wasnтАЩt just an idle suspicion.
As the others hauled their captive off, one of the Trade Inspectors stayed to scan the crowd on the
steps, searching for possible accomplices or just anyone foolish enough to look guilty. Khat didnтАЩt betray
any reaction besides idle curiosity, and the man turned to follow his colleagues. You couldnтАЩt be too
careful, even though at the moment Khat hadnтАЩt anything as incriminating as a pottery fragment on him.
The Trade Inspectors took special notice of merchants or relic dealers who were not citizens, and Khat
didnтАЩt have the option of becoming one, even if he could raise the fee.
Tradition said the Ancients had made the kris to live in the Waste because they feared it would
spread to the end of the world. KhatтАЩs people were born with immunities to desert poisons, with the
ability to sense the direction of true north on a landscape where it was death to lose your way, and with
pouches to carry babies, when humans were forced to give birth live, in mess and inconvenience. But the
Ancients were dead, and their plans hadnтАЩt come to fruition. The Waste had taken much of the world,
but it had stopped before the Last Sea and left the coast untouched. The kris were forced into the deep
Waste, and the people of the Fringe Cities, especially the Imperial seat Charisat, plainly did not want
them inside their walls.
More lamps were lit above the OdeonтАЩs doors as the natural light died, and one of the male
prostitutes gently suggested that if Khat wasnтАЩt going to buy anybody he should get the hell out of there.
Khat left without argument; it was dark enough now.
The great hall of the theater was huge and round, the dome ceiling high overhead a vast mosaic of
some past Elector ascending to the throne. The stage was circular and in the center of the hall, with the
audience a noisy flowing mob around it. Wicker couches and chairs were scattered about, and the tile
floor was littered with rotting food and broken glass. The air was stifling, despite the long narrow
windows just below the dome that were supposed to vent the heat. The farce being performed was an
old familiar one, which was just as well because most of the audience were here to talk and throw things
at the stage.
As an added distraction a fakir was performing in the crowd. He was young for the trade, but had
managed to extend a rope nearly twenty feet straight up before beginning his climb.
Khat fought his way around the edge of the crowd, then was hailed by a loud group of rival relic
dealers. тАЬWe heard about that little trinket you and Sagai sold Arnot today. Any more where it came
from?тАЭ Danil asked. She was a lean, predatory woman who sold relics on the Fourth Tier. Her narrow
eyes were artificially widened with powders of malachite and galena.