"Briggs, Patricia - Sianim 1 - Masques" - читать интересную книгу автора (Briggs Patricia)

Masques
Patricia Briggs
1993
ISBN: 0-441-52099-5
Spell-checked. Some parts read.
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ASSASSIN!
Wolf lay still on his back in human form, eyes glistening with rage. Narrow, luminous white ropes lay
across his legs, chest, and neck. The killer stood over him, holding a sword that glowed gently, with a
pulsating lavender light. A cold chill shot up Aralorn’s back as she recognized the weapon: a souleater.
She shifted into the form of the small but deadly icelynx and leapt. The killer swept aside her rush
with his sword arm, but not before she had raked his back with her formidable claws. Pale sword and
paler cat feinted back and forth.
He managed to nick her as she leapt at his throat. Her off rear leg became icily numb and folded
underneath her, but worse was the strange sucking sensation that consumed her. The sword was alive, and
it was hungry—
With love to my parents:
Harvey C. Rowland 1917-1989
Betty J. Rowland 1920-1992
One
The great hall of the castle was his favorite room. At first she’d believed it was the grandeur that
appealed to him—a weakness he freely admitted. Now she concluded that it was something more.
Certainly the pleasure of desecrating with his dark arts the only room of the ae’Magi’s castle that had
been kept free of magic for over one thousand years was not lost on him. Even now she could see one of
the guests glance nervously at the shadows in the corners of the room. People who couldn’t use magic
tended to get nervous in a room where magic was performed often.
Most of all, she thought, the reason he loved this room was the delight he took in watching the highest
aristocracy of a dozen nations dancing gaily where only a few hours before a young child had screamed
out his life.
Aralorn shivered and paced behind the ornate black bars of her cage.
The great hall was resplendent, lavishly decorated for the pleasure of the people who tripped lightly
across the floor. Soaring ceilings were etched with tear-shaped skylights. Pale pillars dripped down to a
polished ivory floor that reflected the jewellike colors of the dancers.
Aralorn’s cage sat on a raised platform on the only wall of the room that lacked a doorway. From that
perch she could observe the whole room and be observed in return. Or rather, they could see the illusion
that the ae’Magi had placed on the cage. Slavery was frowned upon by many of the nearby kingdoms,
and so instead of the tall, exotically blonde woman that the ae’Magi had purchased from a traveling
slaver, observers saw a rare snowfalcon.
A chime sounded, announcing new visitors. Aralorn hugged herself as the ae’Magi greeted his guests
with a warm smile. He’d smiled that same smile last night when he held the boy’s pulsing heart in his
hands.
Biting her lip, Aralorn gazed at the dancing royalty in an effort to distract herself. She matched names
and countries to the dancers’ faces with the ease of the professional spy that she was. Gradually she
replaced the boy’s dead eyes with dates and politics, but she still paced her cage restlessly.