"01 - The Cutting Edge 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

Time to go.
"Do you need anything?" asked a small and tremulous voice. Phain shook her head
on the pillow and tried to smile, to put the child at ease. It was a hard time
for a youngster. Death Watch was never easy.
She couldn't remember the girl's name. Terrible how the old forgot! She could
remember Keez clear enough. She could recall every ax stroke and every knot as
the two of them had built the cottage together, over their special Place. But
for the life of her she could not remember which poor child had been sent to
keep her Death Watch. She could not even remember all the family coming to say
good-bye to her, but she knew they must have. How long had she been lingering
and making this poor girl wait? She licked her lips.
"Drink?" the child asked. "You want a drink? I'll get you one. " Eager to
please, eager to feel that she was doing something useful : ..
Phain recalled her own turn at Death Watch. A nasty, stringy old man named ...
couldn't remember, never mind. He'd taken a week to die, given her no thanks,
thrown up everything she fed him ... He had smelled quite horrible, as she
doubtless did to this youngster now helping her hold her head up to sip from a
half gourd. The water was cool, so it must have come fresh from the stream.
"Name, child? Forgotten your name."
"Thaile of the Gaib Place."
Gaib? Didn't mean anything. Phain tried to speak again. "Yes?" the child cried
in sudden panic. "What? I can't hear!" And she sprawled over Phain on the
bedding, pressing an ear close to her lips.
Poor thing was terrified, of course. Frightened of death, frightened of
suffering, frightened of messing it all up.
"Not yet!" the woman gasped, almost wanting to laugh. "Oh!" The
child-Thaile-scrambled back. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean ... I thought ... I
mean, I'm sorry. "
Phain dug down in her lungs, finding just enough air at the bottom there to make
a chuckle, and a few words. "Just wanted to ask who your mother was, Thaile."
"Oh! Frial of the Gaib Place."
Ah, yes! Frial was her oldest granddaughter, so this leggy filly must be one of
her great-granddaughters. Fancy that! Not many lived long enough to pass on
their word to a greatgrandchild. Gaib was the quiet, solid one with the pointy
ears. Pointier than most, she meant.
"Food?" Thaile asked. "Can I get you something to eat, Grammy?"
Phain shook her head and closed her eyes to nap a little. She hoped she wouldn't
linger much longer. She was too weary to speak more now. Only one word left to
say, and she knew she would find breath enough for that.
Maig! Maig was the name of that smelly, stringy old man she'd done Death Watch
for. Maig had taken a week to go. She hoped she didn't take a week. Or hadn't
already taken a week. Hard on a child. Maig hadn't been able to speak most of
the time, but he'd found enough breath at the end to pass on his word.
And no good had it ever done her, Phain thought. Perhaps she'd never had any
special talent, or the word had been too weak, or shed just not had the Faculty.
No, there'd never been any magic in her life, just a lot of hard work.
And love. Much love. But no magic.
The wind sighed through the little ruin. She thought she would nap now, and
maybe eat something later ...