"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - A Baroque Fable" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

anticipating the revenge she is about to achieve.
"Mistress Broomtail, IтАФ" Esmeralda says apprehensively, her mouth turning down, but not enough to
mar the shape and curve of it.
"Don't interrupt me," Alfreida orders. "I'm thinking." So saying, she takes the time to walk around the
pentacle once more, as much to congratulate herself for her cleverness as to be certain she has
performed her magic correctly. "Quite satisfactory, I should think. There are those who would say that it
takes more than the spells and a pentacle to do things right, but they haven't the experience that some of
us can claim."
This is more promising man Esmeralda had feared it might be, and so she tremblingly proffers the tome
she has brought. "I have... your book, Mistress Broomtail."
"BookT* Alfreida turns and abruptly snatches the volume from Esmeralda. "It bad better be the right
one," she warns as she starts to open it. In fact, she owns no more than three books, and the other two
are nothing like her grimoire, one being a small volume on herbs, and the other a dissertation on manners
and fashion now mote than Unity years out of dale.
16
Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
"Ah. Well, you can get tilings right on occasion, can't you, especially when you're told just what to do."
Esmeralda can think of nothing to say in response, and so for a change she remains silent. Her hands lie
against the folds of her sprigged muslin skirt, joined delicately. Somehow or other she has managed to
keep her shoes clean and they still have a trace of polish to them. She looks wistfully toward Uripoop,
wanting to pet him, but afraid of what he might do, since he has shown himself to be disinclined to
attention from her in the past.
"I'm almost ready," Alfreida announces after she peers at the various containers on her table. "I have
everything I need, I think."
"Do you want me to leave?" Always before when Alfreida has been about to do magic, she has ordered
Esmeralda out of the hovel, no matter what the time or the weather. It being a dank afternoon with
promise of a gelid night, Esmeralda cannot help but look longingly at the hearth where the fire still has a
little life in it and the cauldron bubbles.
"Oh, no. Nonono. Wouldn't think of it. You ought to see what I can do when I'm in fine form. This is as
good a time as any. But"тАФshe points to the center of the roomтАФ "I want you to stand there. For your...
protection." Her giggle is like shards of ice sliding over metal.
Liripoop opens his eyes indignantly, then assumes his usual inscrutable pose.
"Is there any place in particular I should stand? I don't want to interfere," Esmeralda says. She is
concerned about this sudden change of demeanour on Alfreida's pan. She knows that she ought to trust
others, but for once she has trouble convincing herself of this.
"You see the star? Well, you go and stand in the middle of it, so you'll be safe."
"This five-pointed one?" Esmeralda asks, still uneasy.
"Perfect. Now don't move, and don't speak, and don't do anything unless I tell you to, all right?" Once
again she giggles and, if anything, it is worse than before.
"I scuffed one of the points. Should I fix it?" Esmeralda looks at the pentagram, not wanting to disobey
Alfreida, but worried that there might be some hazard if UK pentagram is not correct. Alfreida has often
railed at her when magical things were not just so.
"Urn?" Alfreida murmurs, looking up from the book. "Oh,
A BAROQUE FABLE
17
I see. Well, yes. You can fix it. Make sure it comes to a nice, sharp point. You do that." She goes back
to struggling with the book, which is very large and unwieldy, which is traditional for important grimoires.
Esmeralda sets the comer of the pentacle to rights, then moves back again, standing quietly and adorably
at the center. She lowers her eyes demurely.
"Where would they put dragon in a book like this?" Alfreida wonders aloud as she turns the pages.