"Gray, Julia - Guardian 01 - The Dark Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

'I imagine its darkness not as an absence of light but as some indescribable amalgam of all the forces of nature, condensed into that single ominous sphere. But how can a sphere contain such awe-inspiring potential? Surely it is but a curled shape that masks another. The Dark Moon is a bird of prey, black wings stooped in a hunter's silent flight, black eyes fixed upon her target, talons outstretched, slicing the sky above her unsuspecting victims. No rules confine her; no defences can turn her away. When she strikes, her speed and savagery will be unmatched, unmatchable. We will not even feel the death blow.'
Before he could even try to consider what this all meant, the sound of footsteps came from the corridor and Terrel hurriedly pushed the book under his pillow. He only relaxed when Elam put his head round the door.
'Skiving as usual,' his friend remarked. 'While we do all the work.'
Alyssa came in after him, and immediately went to inspect the lump on the side of Terrel's head.
'Does it hurt?'
'Of course it hurts!'
'Don't listen to him,' Elam advised. 'He's got such a thick skull he probably hardly noticed.'
'There are still dreams here,' Alyssa said, sounding surprised.
'I was asleep until an hour or so ago,' Terrel explained. 'I was up most of the night.' Having remembered none of his daytime dreams, he was curious to know what Alyssa could see, but she said nothing.
'You cut it fine with the curfew last night,' Elam remarked. 'I didn't see you at dinner. Or afterwards, come to that.'
'I missed the curfew. I spent the night at the observatory.' He enjoyed seeing the shock on his friends' faces, quickly followed, in Elam's case, by envy.
'You were outside?' he exclaimed. 'At night?'
'Not so loud,' Terrel said, grinning. 'Someone might hear.' He went on to tell them about his adventure, omitting only one episode. Both Elam and Alyssa were suitably impressed.
Eventually, when he had finished answering Elam's many questions, Terrel produced his final marvel.
'There's one last thing I have to show you. Close your eyes, Alyssa.'
'Why?' she asked, smiling.
'Just do it. And hold out your hands.'
When she obeyed, he lifted the mattress again and took out the earring. In daylight its crude construction was more obvious, but the crystal sparkled nicely. Elam rolled his eyes but refrained from comment as Terrel dropped it into Alyssa's outstretched palm.
Her brown eyes opened then - and grew wider when she saw her gift.
'For me?' she whispered, holding it up to the light.
Terrel nodded, enjoying his friend's childlike pleasure.
'It's like your eyes,' Alyssa said in wonder, then turned to Terrel and kissed him.
It was a spontaneous action, shy and gentle, her lips brushing against his cheek, but he felt colour rise in his face - and his blush deepened as they gazed briefly into each other's eyes.
Behind Alyssa, Elam was pretending to stick a finger down his throat and making retching noises. For a moment Terrel was angry, then he burst out laughing as Alyssa turned round and gave Elam a friendly shove.
'If you two have quite finished . . .' the boy muttered, staggering across the room in theatrical fashion.
'It's beautiful,' Alyssa said, ignoring his interruption and turning back to Terrel. 'Did you make it?'
He nodded.
Alyssa slid the hook through the hole in her earlobe, and grinned delightedly.
'How do I look?'
'Like a fairy princess,' Elam replied instantly, though with less sarcasm than Terrel would have expected. He himself could think of nothing to say.
At that moment the door opened again, and Ingo shuffled in.
'I might have known I'd find you three together,' he remarked in his habitual offhand manner.
'We've done our stint for today,' Elam told him. 'In the kitchens.'
'That's not what I'm here for,' the warden replied, turning to look directly at Terrel. 'Ziolka's looking for you, lad.'
'Why?' Terrel asked, finding his voice at the same time as his heart sank, thinking that his night-time absence must have been discovered.
'You may find this difficult to believe, after fourteen years,' Ingo replied. 'But you've got a visitor.'

Chapter Seven

In the silence that followed Ingo's announcement, Terrel's immediate reaction - one of stunned disbelief - turned slowly to a flood of contradictory emotions that made him feel quite nauseous. We never get any visitors, he thought, recalling Elam's words.
'Well, come on then,' Ingo urged. 'They're waiting.' 'Who is it?' Terrel whispered, asking the first of the many questions that had crowded into his head.
Ingo merely shrugged and turned to leave the cell, unwilling or - more likely - unable to enlighten him. With a last bewildered glance at his two friends, Terrel followed.
As soon as Shahan saw Terrel's eyes, he knew there could be no doubt about the boy's identity. Others might share the misfortune of broken or twisted limbs, but anyone who had glimpsed those bright, colourless orbs in the baby's face would know that they could not be duplicated. It was a moment he had been waiting and hoping for more than two years, and now that it had arrived he felt a mixture of relief and excitement - and a little dread. He had begun to fear that the child might be dead. This was not because he thought Mirival would have had the infant killed - the scandal caused by such an action, should it ever have become public knowledge, would have shaken the Empire to its core - but because the baby's health had seemed so delicate, making him vulnerable to any number of perils. However, the boy had survived - and that spoke well of his courage and tenacity.
When Shahan had begun his secret investigation - at first tentatively, but then with increasing conviction - he had decided that the child was most likely to have been hidden away in some sort of institution. If his true identity was ever discovered, this course of action would be eminently justifiable. The boy's strange eyes, together with his obvious deformities, would have been reason enough for him to be cast out from any family of social standing. And having embarked upon such a course, the selection of this particular madhouse had been a logical choice. It was a long way from Makhaya, and few people - including, until recently, Shahan himself - even knew of its existence. Its position in the broad moorlands of Saefir Province, which was sparsely populated even in its more fertile and hospitable regions, guaranteed its obscurity. By definition, its inmates were the unwanted flotsam of Vadanis, and as such they attracted little attention - although that might change soon, given recent developments.
The fact that Shahan had found his quarry at all was a testament to his obstinate determination. The only person whom the seer could be reasonably certain knew of the boy's whereabouts was Mirival, and - for obvious reasons - Shahan could not ask him. The Chief Seer still held the pre-eminent claim to the title of Mentor, and certainly had the ear of Emperor Dheran. He was clearly not a man to be trifled with. However, Shahan had been prepared to take some risks as his doubts concerning the latest interpretations of the Code grew stronger. Discreet enquiries among Mirival's known associates had eventually led to a woman who - for a suitable fee - had remembered being told of a child being taken from the city at the time of the lunar confluence.
That trail was long cold, of course, but - inspired now -Shahan had made excuses to leave Makhaya and travel widely, following his hunches. He had lost count of the number of hostels, sanctuaries, orphanages and prisons he'd visited, asking at each about a foundling who would have arrived soon after the alignment of the moons. Although that date was easily remembered, he had always received a negative answer - until now.
'Is this the one?' Ziolka asked curiously.
'Yes.'
'Should I . . . ?'
'Leave us, please,' Shahan instructed tersely.