"Zelazny, Roger - Lord Demon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

I did as he bid me, following him through a wide hallway and into a living room overlooking a fine garden. A fat, somehow jolly, little terra-cotta teapot rested upon a tray set on a low table. There were two cups and a plate of wafer-thin almond cookies as well.
After directing me to a seat on a comfortable sofa, Li Piao maneuvered himself into a wooden chair with a high back and arms. Clearly the chair had been chosen because it enabled him to push himself onto his feet and reach the crutches he carefully leaned against a second chair.
As I watched him, I found myself admiring his spirit. Here was a man who had once enjoyed the vicarious flight of kites, now bound firmly to earth by his crippled body, but refusing even to consider defeat.
"I must ask you to pour the tea," Li Piao said. "It is very fine green tea, imported from Taiwan. The cookies are of my daughter-in-law's making. They are very goodЧ not overly sweet."
I poured, making a small ceremony of the action. Li Piao accepted his cup with a nod of thanks. He rested it, along with two cookies his strong left hand plucked from the plate I held out to him, on the arm of his chair.
"How?" I asked, gesturing at the neatly laid tea tray. "How did you manage this?"
He chuckled, a sound as warm as his smile. "I did not, except for adding the hot water to the teapot and removing the plastic wrap from the plate. My grandson set it up for me last night when he came for a few hours to help me."
"Ah," I nodded, sipped. The tea was indeed good, the cookies excellent. "I have long enjoyed watching your classes fly their kites each spring."
"So have I," he said, with the first trace of sadness I had seen in him.
"I was wondering," I continued, "if you would consider permitting me the honor of continuing your class for you. We would necessarily need to begin a few weeks late, but the registrar at the community college has said that adaptations could be made."
I did not think it necessary to tell Li Piao that my offering to teach the course for nothing had helped to sway that doubtful lady.
"I would have no objections," Li Piao said, surprised. "How could I? Knowledge of kites, of their crafting and flying, is not mine alone."
"True," I said. "I was hoping that you would consider coming and sharing your wisdom with the class. I can be your hands, but I do not have your knowledge."
That might be a small lie (though I was to learn later that it was not), but I did not see how flattery could hurt. Simply and immediately, I wanted to see the skies above the park alive with kites once more.
For a moment, Li Piao's old eyes lit with pleasure at the prospect. Then he shook his head ruefully.
"I would, but I cannot. The doctors tell me a long time may pass before I am able to walk unassisted once more. I do not trust myself to drive, even if they would permit me."
Sipping tea, I smiled. "I can collect you before each class and bring you home again. I would even toss in a meal or some share of the teacher's salary to sweeten the deal."
I knew from my talk with the registrar that Li Piao had been well paid for his efforts but that otherwise he was retired. He might welcome some cash.
"I could not take money for such!" he protested.
"You would be teaching the course," I reminded.
"Still!"
He looked indignant.
"There is no reason you should not be paid for your time," I said, speaking as if the matter was settled between us.
We bargained then, over tea and cookies, setting our terms. I think we both enjoyed it. When he looked as if he might refuse, I said:
"You have not asked what I did when I was employed in the world. I was a great healerЧone who followed the traditional methods. I may be able to speed along your healing."
I had him then, I could see it. Even if he did not desire himself whole for himself alone, he could not have refused me without feeling he was being selfish toward those who were taking time from their own daily duties to assist him.
"You know acupuncture?" he asked.
"Yes, and something of herbs and something, too, of more esoteric arts."
I reached out then and seized the bent, paralyzed index finger of his right hand. Taking a deep breath, I ran a portion of my demon chi down it. I could feel the paths within revitalizing, then he moved it.
"I accept your offer," he said, firmly, his tones those of someone who is awed, though not too awed to be thoughtful. We made our arrangements, and I said that I would have the registrar call him soon.
I left quickly after that. I did not feel like playing games with the man. Neither did I feel like letting him die. From our brief talk, I suspected that he still knew a lot more about kites than I did.

I picked him up for my Saturday and Sunday afternoon classes, and he would sit on the sunny hillside and watch the kites. I gave him his treatment afterward and took him to dinner.
"Some of your kites are very, very old," he said.
"I come from an isolated part of the old country."
"Some of them I've only heard of, never seen."
"Soon you will be making them."
"I believe you. You' must have been a good healer before you retired. All the sensation is back on that side, and I can limp around now."
"Next month you will throw the crutch away."
One day the following month, we all had our various kites in the air, a colorful blossoming of squares and rectangles (for today was devoted to assorted traditional types), when a fine Thai Pakpao refused to fly as it should. I gave my green-and-blue Chinese butterfly to the student and stepped aside with Li Piao to see what could be done to mend the Pakpao.
The problem was with the string bridle. Li Piao made subtle adjustments to the length of the string, then I raised the Pakpao aloft once more. Not wanting to risk becoming entangled with any of those kites already flying, I had moved us a distance away from where the rest of my class was clustered.
"She looks good," I said. (A Pakpao is a female kite; the larger, male kite is called a Chula.)
"She does indeed," Li Piao answered, but I could tell from his tone that his attention was elsewhere.
I turned my attention from the Pakpao and glanced to the east, where an errant wind was blowing a small cloud near. A bit of rain fell upon me. I sensed what was happening, but by then it was too late.
There came a clap of thunder just as Li Piao cried out, "Kai!"
The lightning chased me down the Pakpao's string and filled my body. I sent it back into the sky, released the string, and clapped my hands. The lightning returned whence it had come and the cloud blew apart.
"Kai Wren! I did not do it, my friend," Li Piao cried, limping near.
"I know that," I said, rather puzzled by his words.
"It was a magician hidden in the cloud who tried to slay you."
"You know something of these matters?" I asked.