"Jane Yolen - Pit Dragon 03 - A Sending of Dragons" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yolen Jane)

rather than a help against the oncoming cold night. He was burned brown everywhere but for three small
pits on his back, which remained white despite their long exposure to the sun. Slowly Jakkin stood,
running grimy fingers through his shoulder-length hair, and shouted up at the hatchlings.

тАЬ Fine flying, my friends!тАЭ The sound of his voice caromed off the mountains, but the dragons gave no
sign they heard him. So he sent the same message with his mind in the rainbow-colored patterns with
which he and the dragons communicated. Fine flying. The picture he sent was of gray-green wings with
air rushing through the leathery feathers, tickling each link. Fine flying. He was sure his sending could
reach them, but none of the dragons responded.

Jakkin stood for a moment longer watching the flight. He took pleasure in the hatchlingsтАЩ airborne
majesty. Even though they were still awkward on the ground, a sure sign of their youth, against the sky
they were already an awesome sight.

Jakkin took pleasure as well in the colors surrounding the dragons. Though heтАЩd lived months now in the
Austarian wilds, he hadnтАЩt tired of the eveningтАЩs purples and reds, roses and blues, the ever changing
display that signaled the approaching night. Before heтАЩd been changed, as he called it, heтАЩd hardly seen
the colors. Evenings had been a time of darkening and the threat of Dark-After, the bonechilling, killing
cold. Every Austarian knew better than to be caught outside in it. But now both Dark-After and dawn
were his, thanks to the change.

тАЬOurs!тАЭ The message invaded his mind in a ribbon of laughter. тАЬDark-After and dawn are ours now.тАЭ
The sending came a minute before its sender appeared around a bend in the mountain path.

Jakkin waited patiently. He knew Akki would be close behind, for the sending had been strong and Akki
couldnтАЩt broadcast over a long range.

She came around the bend with cheeks rosy from running. Her dark braid was tied back with a
fresh-platted vine. Jakkin preferred it when she let her hair loose, like a black curtain around her face, but
heтАЩd never been able to tell her so. She carried a reed basket full of food for their dinner. Speaking aloud
in a tumble of words, she ran toward him. тАЬJakkin, IтАЩve found a whole new meadow andтАжтАЭ

He went up the path to meet her and dipped his hand into the basket. Before she could pull it away, heтАЩd
snagged a single pink chikkberry. Then she grabbed the basket, putting it safely behind her.

тАЬAll right, worm waste, what have you been doing while I found our dinner?тАЭ Her voice was stern, but
she couldnтАЩt hide the undercurrent of thought, which was sunny, golden, laughing.

тАЬIтАЩve been working, too,тАЭ he said, careful to speak out loud. Akki still preferred speech to sendings when
they were face-to-face. She said speech had a precision to it that the sendings lacked, that it was clearer
for everything but emotions. She was quite fierce about it. It was an argument Jakkin didnтАЩt want to
venture into again. тАЬIтАЩve some interesting things-тАЭ

Before he could finish, five small streamlike sendings teased into his head, a confusion of colored images,
half-visualized.

тАЬJakkinтАж the skyтАж see the moonsтАж wind and wings, ahтАж see, seeтАжтАЭ
Jakkin spun away from Akki and cried out to the dragons, a wild, high yodeling that bounced off the
mountains. With it he sent another kind of call, a web of fine traceries with the names of the hatchlings
woven within: Sssargon, Sssasha, and the triplets Tri-sss, Trissskkette, and Tri-sssha.