"Michelle West - The Sun Sword 1 - The Broken Crown" - читать интересную книгу автора (West Michelle)

This time the woman seemed to break; her feet left the hungry> he cualled for his mother, and she
came; she cobbled stones as if sheтАЩd yanked them free. тАЬItтАЩs my waj warm when he was cold, she
was sound and sight boyтАФheтАЩs hurt my boyтАФHealer, my boyтАФтАЭ and smell.

This close she could see the blood that trailed out oi Lesso thought that Askeyia was his mother,
and when either corner of the childтАЩs mouth. He was young; no new she called him, when she
held out her arms, he came with born, but not yet crawling. And as she touched his face, as ease
and joyтАФor rather, he wailed the louder for the she concentrated, calling upon the talent that was
bant sound of her voice bearing his name in the shadows of the and boon both, she knew. Ribs,
thin and flexible, had foothills that led to Mandaros. She called him again, and been crushed with
enough speed and force to pierce again he wailed, louder; one last time, and she was there, lungs;
blood filled them, even now. He was dying. Not sc he was there; she picked him up and held him
tight close to death as to threaten her should she attempt the against her, within her, bringing him
back to himself, healing, but not so far that his mother had the time i] And all about her, too
strong to be memory, too vis-would take to walk to the MotherтАЩs temple and wait foiceral to
evoke that naive yearning, the things by which a bb k h h the healer to arrive. Not so close to
death?

g y young babe knows a mother. By which, in turn, a young mother knows her child. And this
was her child, this

HeтАЩs only a child, she thought. HeтАЩs only a child. AndтАЩLesso, this babe; this was hers, to protect
and heal and children arenтАЩt so costly to call back. Everyone knows that.comfort. He fell into the
cradle of her healer-strong arms

and rested there as if those arms were made to do no more than hold him.

Really, as sheтАЩd told Levee a hundred times, a thousand times, healing babies was no risk at all.

Really.

But she couldnтАЩt explain the tears that coursed down her cheeks as the world returned to her eyes
тАФto her adult eyes. CouldnтАЩt explain the way her arms tightened around the swaddling cloth, the
way she pressed the babe tight, too tight, to her chest.

She spoke phrases, things meant to separate the healer from the healedтАФbut words offered no

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separation.

The screaming, thin and terrible, did.

Turning, sloping groundward with the sudden disorien-tation of motion, she saw тАШLessoтАЩs mother
тАФhis terrified mother, his strong, his happy, his angry motherтАФchalk white, white as snow on
mountain peaks.