"Debra Doyle & James MacDonald - Mageworlds 06 - The Stars Asunder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

But the people of the many worlds grew lazy, and failed to tend the eiran as they should
have done, and as had been their task from the beginning. The eiran turned wild, and grew and
changed until the pattern was no longer of one weaving but of many, and the cords in the many
patterns pulled and twisted in all directions.
"Look," said some of the people, the clear-sighted ones. "The one pattern has been
destroyed through our careless inattention, and who can say what the consequences of that may
be."
The others never listened. They no longer saw the one pattern even in the many weavings,
but each of them saw a single and separate pattern, and tended only the eiran that lay within it.
"See now," the clear-sighted ones told them. "The threads in the one pattern grow tight
and tangled, and the strain on the weaving is greater than it can hold. If the pattern is not mended
now it will pass away from us."
But still the others would not listen.
And the day came when the threads of the pattern snapped, and the eiran flew wide across
the face of the universe like floss on the wind, and the two halves of the galaxy were ripped apart
and flung away one from the other, and the people were blinded to the sight of the silver cords
that had perished from their lack of tending.
Of those who had been clear-sighted, only a few remained. All of the rest were lost, and
their worlds with them.

I : Year 1116 Eraasian Reckoning
Eraasi: Hanilat Starport
Demaizen Old Hall

Ribbon-of-Starlight, foremost guardship in the sus-Peledaen fleet, waited on the landing field at
Hanilat like a dark, angular bird. She was the largest family ship that could actually touch the soil of
Eraasi. The merchant ships she escorted were bigger-huge constructs, hold-swollen with cargo-but they
never left orbit. The shuttles that would bring up the flats and bales and crates of tradeware clustered like
nestlings on the burnt ground next to the Ribbon's protective bulk.
Arekhon Khreseio sus-Khalgath sus-Peledaen, riding out to the guardship in the back
compartment of an open land-hauler, gave the shuttles nothing more than, a cursory glance.
Ribbon-of-Starlight-his home for the remainder of his fleet apprenticeship-claimed the greater part of his
attention. She was a new ship, no more than a couple of voyages old, but already known for a lucky one.
'Rekhe squinted at her, trying for the catch and angle of sunlight that would let him see the eiran
wrapping and weaving around her.
A moment… there… yes. To the right eyes, Ribbon-of-Starlight was rich with luck, hung about
with it in lacework so thick it looked like silvery gauze.
Arekhon himself was a slight, dark-haired youth. He'd worked with the fleet Circle in Hanilat
since he was first able to count his age in two digits, but now that he was, by everyone's reckoning, old
enough to make a full commitment to the Mages, his duty to the family came first. His brother Natelth
was the head of the sus-Peledaen family's senior line, and Natelth wanted 'Rekhe to go through his
apprenticeship in the fleet… so an apprentice, perforce, 'Rekhe would have to be, and the Circles could
wait until later.
"Here you are."
'Rekhe blinked, and the luck-lines went away, leaving the Ribbon looming stark black as before,
only much nearer. A door was open high on one curving side, and a narrow metal ladder led up to it.
"Thank you," he said politely to the driver of the land-hauler, collected his duffel, and climbed out
of the back compartment onto the ground. The hauler sped off on its next errand. 'Rekhe shouldered his
duffel and started climbing.
A young man in a blue work coverall was waiting for him when he reached the top of the ladder.