"Sara Douglass - The Axis Trilogy 2 - Enchanter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

quiver of arrows and handed them to SpikeFeather, who slung the quiver over
his shoulder.
"As creatures of the air ourselves we have a special affinity with weapons of
flight," SpikeFeather explained as he notched an arrow into the bow. "See."
In one liquid movement, so fast Azhure found it difficult to follow,
SpikeFeather lifted the bow, aimed, and loosed the arrow. It soared towards the
ceiling and lodged in a small scarlet target ball suspended sixty paces above their
heads.
"The stories of your ability don't do you justice, Spike-Feather," Azhure said.
"Can I try that bow?" The bow SpikeFeather held was a weapon of elegance as
well as of skill, and Azhure found its lure almost irresistible.
SpikeFeather studied her. Since the Wolven's creator had died four thousand
years ago, only he had been able to master it. The Icarii had extraordinarily
powerful flight muscles in their chests and backs, and SpikeFeather doubted
whether Azhure, despite her height and obvious fitness, would even have the
strength to draw a notched arrow back in a normal Icarii bow, let alone the
Wolven.
He finally shrugged. What would it hurt? He picked another arrow from his
quiver and handed the bow to Azhure. Tall, but made of surprisingly light ivory
wood, it was patterned with golden tracery and strung and tasselled in vivid
blues and scarlets. It was as beautiful as it was deadly.
"Here," SpikeFeather said, showing Azhure how to place her hands, then
notching the arrow. Standing behind her, he curled her fingers around the arrow.
"Let me help you to ..."
"No," Azhure said, stepping away from him slightly. "Let me try first,
SpikeFeather. What should I aim for?"
SpikeFeather smiled indulgently. "Aim high, Azhure, at any of the targets
suspended from the ceiling. If you hit one I will make you a gift of the Wolven
itself as a mark of Icarii admiration and fashion you a quiver with my own
hands."
Azhure looked at the targets hanging from the ceiling. Then, without
lowering her eyes, she raised the bow and started to draw the arrow back.
SpikeFeather saw the exact moment when Azhure found that the Wolven
required extraordinary strength. Her shoulders, back, and arms suddenly tensed,
and her hands quavered so badly that SpikeFeather was sure she would drop the
bow or let the arrow tumble to the floor. He started as if to step forward and
help her, but EvenSong caught his elbow. "Let her try for herself," she
whispered, and SpikeFeather subsided, although a frown of worry creased his
face. What if she couldn't control the flight of the arrow, and skewered one of his
command? None of them wore armour that could withstand a loose Icarii arrow.
But Azhure managed to retain control, although Spike-Feather could see
what a supreme effort it cost her. Gradually her hands steadied and her back
straightened. Then she took a deep breath and pulled the arrow all the way
back, raising the bow to her face and sighting along the shaft of the arrow.
SpikeFeather's eyes widened in amazement. Where did she find the strength
to control the bow? A human woman?
Azhure, as taut and tense as the Wolven itself, finally let fly the arrow in as
good an imitation of SpikeFeather's action as she could manage.
As one the Icarii watched the flight of the arrow.
It flew straight and true, striking a golden target the size of a man's head.