"Denning, Troy - Forgotten Realms - Song of the Aurialsuc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

"All right, I'm impressed. Can I have my pick-bone back?" the halfling asked.
"It's in your hair. Olive, right where you put it," replied Nameless.
SONG OF THE SAURIALS
Olive ran her fingers through her hair and found the wire lodged behind her ear exactly where she'd put it. "An illusion, right?" she guessed.
Nameless did not reply. Instead, his eyes twinkled with mischief.
"1 hate it when you do things like that," Olive huffed.
"You love it when I do things like that," Nameless countered. "You just hate that you can't do them yet."
"All right. So you didn't need my help to escape. Why are you still here?" she demanded.
"Because I have no desire to become a hunted fugitive when I don't have to. The Harpers will come to their senses and release me."
"That's what you thought when you turned yourself over to them two hundred years ago," Olive argued. "What makes you think this trial's going to end any different from the first one?"
"Elminster is speaking in my defense this time," Nameless replied confidently.
"You put a lot of store in that old coot."
"The Harpers have grown accustomed to abiding by Elmin-ster's counsel."
Olive sniffed. "And you expect them to forgive all, to take you back into their fold and restore you to your position as a Master Harper?
"Naturally," the bard said coolly.
"What then?" Olive snapped. "Engagements at all the royal courts? A few noble titles granted in honor of your talents? Wizards begging for your secrets? Flocks of apprentices ready to serve under you?"
"Why should it be any different than it was before?" Nameless asked with a cocky grin.
"You're dreaming, pal!" Olive shouted, completely frustrated with his vanity and unrelenting certainty. "Wake up and smell the bacon! Not even the great Elminster is going to bring Morala around. As for the other two, the ranger might take pity on you, but that half-elf bard's got all the compassion of an iron golem. You need—" Olive halted, alarmed at the way her voice echoed through the cell and annoyed that this stupid human had made her lose her self-control. "You need a contingency plan," the halfling whispered. "Just in case I'm right and you're wrong."
17
KATE NOVAK and JEFF GRUBB
"I have too much to lose if I flee now and you're wrong," Nameless retorted heatedly.
"You have too much to lose if you don't. Security isn't going to get any more lax if they condemn you, you know. Since you've already broken out of the Citadel of White Exile, they'll have to find some place even worse—if you can imagine any place worse than that."
Nameless fought to control a tremor in his lip. For two centuries, he'd lived in the Citadel of White Exile, able to scry on the happenings in the Realms but completely unable to participate. It had been torture for him, but he could imagine worse things. He had other objections to trying to escape, though. "You forget we're talking about the Harpers," he said. "They'll have no trouble tracking me down. "
"You're a Harper yourself," Olive pointed out. "If you weren't so eager to rest on your laurels, you could keep a step ahead of them. I've got a place where you could hide, too—somewhere you'll be welcome, and no one would ever be able to detect you magically."
"You want me to hide behind Alias's shield," Nameless replied, referring to the misdirection spell cast on the swordswoman, a spell which made her and anyone she traveled with completely undetectable by magical means. "Forget it," Nameless said vehemently. "I'm not getting her involved in this."
"I wasn't talking about Alias," Olive said. "Give me credit for some sense. She's too obvious. I wasn't talking about a magic dead zone, either. That's too obvious, too; besides, there's too much riffraff in places like that. I have someplace even better in mind. With any luck, the Harpers will waste their time checking out Alias and the dead zones and miss us altogether. The Harpers aren't perfect. They make mistakes. Why do you give them so much power over you?"
"Because," Nameless hissed angrily, "they have my name."
Olive shrugged her shoulders and helped herself to another plum. "Big deal. So do I. It's Finder. Finder Wyvernspur, from the clan Wyvernspur of Immersea, in Cormyr," she said nonchalantly. She stifled a mock yawn before adding, "Your older brother was Gerrin Wyvernspur. Your mother's name was Amalee Winter, and your father was Lord Gould. Your grandfather was the Paton Wyvernspur. Sound familiar?"
The bard leaned back against the wall, staring at the halfling
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SONG OF THE SAUHIALS
with undisguised amazement. Silently, with his eyes closed as if he were reciting an oft-repeated prayer from childhood, the bard mouthed the names Olive had given him .
"Surprised?" Olive asked, unable to keep from grinning.
The bard looked at the halfling and nodded, still dumbfounded.
"I've got something else for you, Finder," Olive said, pulling something from her cloak pocket. She laid it down on the bed in front of the bard. "Recognize this?"
Finder looked down at the halfling's gift. It was a sparkling yellow crystal, multifaceted and roughly egg-shaped, somewhat larger than a hen's egg. The bard gasped. Then he whooped once with pleasure, leaped from the bed, snatched Olive up in the air, and swung her around, laughing with delight. "You stole the finder's stone! You incredible halfling! I could kiss you!"
"Well, I suppose I deserve it," Olive said, turning her head and pointing to her cheek. Finder pressed his lips against her flushed face. Then he laughed and spun around again, with Olive still in his arms.
"I'll lose that plum I just ate if you don't set me down," Olive threatened.
Finder lowered the halfling gently to the bed. Olive bounced once on the mattress and snatched up the crystal. "Is this thing still loaded with magic? " she asked, tossing the stone to the bard.
Finder caught the crystal with one hand. He sang a short, clear G-sharp and peered into the stone's depths. "Yes!" he announced. "I don't believe it. Elminster didn't give this to you, did he? You did steal it, didn't you?"
Olive grinned. "No and no. Elminster gave it to Alias last year. Maybe he felt she had some right to it, seeing how she's related to you. We lost it outside of Westgate, but I ran into the man who found it and convinced him to part with it."
"And my name? Who parted with that?" Finder asked.
"That's a longer story. Why don't we save it for later? Let's go, huh?"
Finder sat down on the footstool. "There's no hurry now," he insisted. "We can leave anytime. There's a teleport spell in the crystal."
"Which won't work if Elminster's cast some sort of anti-
KATE NOVAK and JEFF GHUBB
magic shell around this cell," Olive argued.
"The finder's stone is an artifact. Not even Elminster's magic can stop spells cast from it," Finder declared. He picked out a plum from the bowl and took a bite, slurping noisily. "I want to give Elminster the chance to argue my case before the Harpers as he should have done the first time. If he fails to convince them to pardon me, then we'll leave."
"I have a bad feeling about this, Finder. Let's go now, please," Olive pleaded.
"Relax, Olive. I have everything under control. Here, have another plum." Finder held out the silver fruit bowl toward Olive.