"P. N. Elrod - Adventures Of Myhr" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

origins. Lots of people might get bent out of shape over the big "Who am I?" question, but include me
out. It's better to enjoy the moment and leave that angsty stuff to the heavy-duty thinkers. Bet if they got
laid more often they wouldn't put so much time in on the topic.

How Terrin and I got bounced off our Earth and ended up ping-ponging from world to world is another
story, which I'll get around to when I'm ready to tell it. In the meantime, we trudged up one green hill and
down another and, sure enough, my instinct came through again, taking us to a thin dusty ribbon of a
road.

"Which way?" asked Terrin. He stretched his back, making popping sounds. "Left, right, up, down,
inside-out?"

"Left." I didn't know why, but that was the way. To what, I also did not know, though it usually meant
people and food. That's how I found Terrin's shop after all. He'd fed me, so I stayed on.

"My left or yours?"

Mine, of course. He could have probably figured it out himself using his own internal compass, but the
one in my subconscious worked faster and didn't cost any magical effort. Traveling spells and transferring
weather energy around was exhausting, though he'd never admit it; better for him to conserve himself until
we had a handle on this particular stop. He looked pretty pooped.

A couple of hours later we saw the signs of civilization, a slow and easy one, represented by a simple
farmhouse, low tech again, with a penchant for thatched roofing. I'd have thought we were still back on
the previous world but for the subtle differences in building design. Also, this house was washed in a dull
brown color. The other place went in for bright primaries.

A waist-high wall marked the perimeter of the immediate yard and its vegetable gardens; the gate was
unlocked, so we went in.

"Hello!" I called toward the house. Someone was home; smoke rose from the chimney.

We paused a short, respectful distance from the front porch so as not to make the owner nervous about
our intentions. It was usually safer to assume people everywhere were paranoid. After a minute, a
farmer-type in homespun, earth-colored clothes emerged from the dark interior to stare at us. Well,
mostly at me.

"Hello," I said politely. "We're just passing through. Could you tell us how far it is to the next town?"

He stared some more. "Ikghop patuuny mafork?" he asked.
"I said, could you tell us how far to the next town?"

"Skidwhip humdish?"

"I almost got that," I said to Terrin.

"Keep him talking," he told me, his voice tight with strain.

"Hello, Mr. Farmer, the weather here is great, isn't it?"