"Kerr, Katharine - Westlands 02 - A Time Of Omens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

"Maybe so. Somehow I managed to forget that."
"Silly." She laid her hand on his arm. "My beloved idiot."
"You do love me, don't you? Truly, truly love me?"
"What? More than my life."
"Don't say that." He grabbed her by the shoulders so tightly that it hurt. "It's ill-omened."
"I didn't know."
"But do you love me? Oh, by the gods! If you don't love me, I've-" His voice caught in a sob.
"Of course I love you. I love you so much I can't even say."
"I'm sorry." He let her go, caught her again, but gently this time. "Forgive me, my love. I'll admit to having had days when I've been in better humor." He kissed her mouth. "Why don't you leave me to my fit, sulk, temperament, or whatever this may be?"
All morning he stood there alone, brooding over the sea and sky. Marka had a sudden premonition that had nothing to do with dweomer, that even if their marriage lasted for fifty years or more, she would never truly know her husband, realized it then, when by every law in Bardek and Deverry both it was far too late to change her mind. She also remembered the old fortune-teller in Luvilae. The knave of flowers, she thought. That's who it was: Ebany. I've married the knave of flowers, and I'll never be the princess now.

After she watched the ship sail out of sight, Jill returned to the inn, paid off the bills that the troupe had left behind them, then gathered a pack's worth of possessions: her clothes, the various maps and bits of manuscripts that she'd found in the archipelago, a judicious selection of herbs and oddments, then in a fit of thrift stored the rest with the innkeep, just as if she might come back again someday. Laden like a peddler she strolled out of town by the west gate and followed the road, keeping more on the solid shoulder than the mucky middle, for about a mile. As soon as she turned off into the tangled forest, she saw Dallandra, waiting for her between two trees. In the sunlight the elven woman seemed as insubstantial as a wisp of fog caught in branches.
"You're ready?" Dalla said, "Now remember, Time runs differently, even on our borders. We won't seem to be in the Gatelands very long, but we might come out again years later or suchlike. We have to travel fast."
Together they walked through the dappled shade and between the enormous trees. At first Jill thought that nothing had happened, but then she realized that the thick jungle foliage was so intense a green that it seemed fashioned from emerald. When she took a few steps, she saw ahead of her windblown billows of grass. She spun round and found the jungle gone, swallowed by a mist hanging in the air, opalescent in a delicate flood of grays and lavenders shot through with pinks and blues. As she watched, the mist swelled, surged, and wrapped them round in welcome cold.
"There," Dallandra said. "You're not truly in your body anymore, you see."
Jill felt a weight round her neck and found, hanging from a golden chain, a tiny statuette of herself carved from obsidian. Dallandra laughed.
"Mine's of amethyst. That's rather rude of Evandar, to use blackstone for you. It's so grim."
"Oh, it suits me well enough."
Ahead three roads stretched out pale across the grasslands. One road led to the left and a stand of dark hills, so bleak and glowering that she knew they had no part in any country that Dallandra would call home. One road led to the right and a sudden rise of mountains, pale and gleaming in pure air beyond the mist, their tops shrouded in snow so bright that it seemed as if they were lighted from within. Straight ahead on the misty flat stretched the third. Dressed in elven clothes, a man was walking to meet them down that middle way, whistling as he came, his hair an impossible yellow, bright as daffodils. When he drew close Jill noticed that his eyes were an unnatural sky-blue and his lips red as cherries. She felt magical power streaming from him as palpably as she felt the mist.
"Good morrow, fair lady." He spoke in Deverrian. "My true love tells me that you wish to hurry on your way and not linger here in my beloved land. What a pity, for I've many a marvel to show you."
"No doubt, and truly, I'm honored by your invitation, but I've another kind of marvel to find. If I remember the tales about you rightly, it's one that I think you'd find interesting yourself, the island refuge of the sea elves."
He grinned, revealing teeth that were more than a little sharp.
"And someday, perhaps, I'll come visit you there." He turned to Dallandra. "I've found the road we want. Shall we travel it?"
For an answer she merely smiled and caught his hand. Jill walked alongside as they sauntered off down the middle road, as casually as a lady and her lover taking a stroll through the park lands of his estate. All round the mist hovered, parting directly ahead in swirls of watery sunlight to reveal dark mounds of trees. Off to her right she could hear a distant ocean crashing big waves onto some unseen shore.
"Those three roads you saw at first? They're the mothers of all roads," Evandar remarked. "Men and elves, every thinking creature under all the suns everywhere-they like to think they're following a road of their own building, don't they? But all those earthly roads are just the daughters of one of these three."
"Indeed?" Jill said. "I won't argue with you when you could well be right, for all I know."
"And since the three are the mothers of all earthly roads, all those earthly roads start and end here. You can move from one to another and come out where you choose, providing, of course, that you know how to get here in the first place."
"I see." Jill allowed herself a smile. "That's the trick, is it?"
"Just so." He smiled in return. "And not so easy a trick to learn."
"I well believe that."
"Now, of course, I could show you that trick, if you'd care to stay and learn it."
Jill felt a pang of temptation as strong as a stab of pain, but she merely laughed and shook her head no.
"I'm grateful for the offer, mind. But I've got a bit of work on my hands just now."
"Your choice, of course." Evandar bowed, a half-mocking sweep of his arm. "Now, it does take a bit of learning to untangle the roads from their mothers. It's rather like a tapestry weaver's remnants, a big basket of yarn of all colors, all tangled up together, and pulling just one strand free without knotting it round the rest isn't such an easy thing to do. Which is why we'd best stop for a moment and let me think."
They had reached a low rise, dropping gently down in front of them to another wide and grassy plain, crisscrossed with tiny streams and dotted with thickets of trees. Off on a far horizon in a gathering mist Jill could just make out a rise of towers, all white stone flecked with the occasional glint of gold, as if some mighty city stood there. Although Evandar had talked of many roads, she could only see one, meandering through the plain like a stream. He seemed to hear her thought.
"It's all in the walking, which road you end up traveling. They all do look alike at first. Come along, we'll just head down past those gray stones, there."
Now that he pointed them out, Jill could indeed see the boulders, shoving themselves clear of the earth about halfway down the rise. As they strolled past, she noticed that the stones seemed worked, shaped into flat slabs with some crude tool, and arranged into a roughly circular ring.
"We turn here, I think," Evandar said.
The sun turned brighter by a sudden streamside, all dappled with coins of gold light and bordered with a spill of yellow wildflowers. Even though it seemed they had traveled a long way, Jill could still hear the mutter of the invisible ocean.
"And what of the sea roads? Do all ships sail on that sea I hear over there somewhere?" She waved vaguely in the direction of the sound. "Is there a harbor where all sailors come to port?"
"There is, truly. Again, if they can find their way to it. If. Your ancestors sailed that sea when Cadwallon the Druid brought them free of slavery and defeat in the land they called Gallia. But, of course, you know that."
"What?" Jill stopped walking and turned to him. "I don't know in the least. What are you saying?"
Evandar tossed his head back and laughed.
"Cadwallon was a splendid man, if a bit dour at times. I knew him well, my lady. Now, if only you'd come take the hospitality of my hall, there's many a tale I could tell you."
When Jill wavered, Dallandra intervened, shooting a scowl in his direction.
"Don't listen to him, Jill. You've not got years and years of idle time to waste over a goblet of mead."
"You are a harsh one, my love." But Evandar was laughing. "Unfortunately, you speak true, and it would be too unscrupulous even for me to tempt our guest further. Look, see where the sun's breaking through? I think me that it shines on the island you're looking for."
The mist ahead opened like a door and let through sunlight in a solid shaft. As they came close Jill felt the steamy heat of a tropical day streaming out to meet them.
"A thousand thanks, Evandar. Dalla, will I see you again?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, I was thinking of coming with you, just for a little while." She glanced at her glowering lover. "To you it'll be but moments."