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

'Do you love her?' she asked unexpectedly. 'Yes,' Terrel replied when he had recovered from his surprise. 'Yes, I do.'
Sarafia nodded, her expression grave and a little sad. 'Will you go to her now?'
I wish I could, he thought ruefully, but before he could respond, they heard Ty calling his daughter's name. The fear and anxiety in his voice obviously made an impression on the young girl. 'I'd better go back.'
For the first time, it occurred to Terrel that Sarafia might have imagined the two of them as rather more than friends. He had never considered the idea that any girl -apart from Alyssa - might find him attractive, but now he realized that his very strangeness was probably what had appealed to Sarafia's romantic nature. It was even possible that she had thought of running away with him when the opportunity arose, following her dream of becoming a wandering storyteller. But the sound of her father's tormented cries had brought her back to a harsher reality. 'Will you be all right?' Terrel asked.
'Of course,' she replied bravely. 'But you'd better go. Once they know I'm safe they won't be so worried, so you should be able to get away.'
'Thank you, Sara.'
'Will I ever see you again?' she asked.
'I don't know.'
She nodded, accepting his honesty for what it was, then stood up and offered him her hand to pull him to his feet. He rose, but before he released her hand, he leant forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. Finding himself unable to form the words to say goodbye, he ran off into the forest, heading away from the farm.
Sarafia watched him go until he was out of sight, then drew herself up to her full height and began to walk in the opposite direction.
Much later, when he was far enough from the farm to be sure that he was not being pursued, Terrel at last found some time for reflection. That he had been forced to resume the comfortless life of a vagabond was dispiriting, but at least he felt a little better prepared for it this time - and he had several reasons for feeling a lot happier than he had when he'd left the haven.
The first was the relief of Alyssa's reassurances about her safety. He did not understand how she was being protected, but it was abundantly clear that her life was touched with magic, and Terrel felt certain that she would be able to keep her promise. The second was that some of the guilt he felt over Elam's death had been lifted by the revelation that his friend had been going to die anyway. The sadness and grief were still there, but he hadn't been responsible for Elam's fall, and this meant that he did not need to blame himself so much for what had happened afterwards. And then there was the proof that Elam's spirit had survived. Alyssa had been right all along. Ghosts were real! But the best thing of all was that Alyssa had given her word that she would see him again. This thought alone was enough to keep him going.
After foraging for the next four days, Terrel was feeling lonely and discouraged. He was hungry and tired, and his earlier feelings of optimism were fading. He had been travelling aimlessly, wondering what he was supposed to
do now.
After another cold night in the open, he awoke from a dream that had been as vivid and unsettling as any he had ever experienced. What was more, his entire body was burning with shame.

Chapter Twenty

Chief Seer Kamin read the letter for perhaps the twentieth time. He still didn't know what to do about it. Nor did he know who had written it, although he had his suspicions - but he was sure that those involved were now very frightened men. They had signed themselves only with the cryptic name 'Alakor', which meant 'the disaffected' in the old tongue, and nothing had been heard from them since the letter had been delivered to Mirival's home. It was not hard to work out why. Mirival had been the only one who knew where Jax's twin had been sent - and therefore where he might be now if he was still alive - and Shahan had been the only one who'd been actively looking for the boy. Now they had both met untimely ends. It did not take a genius to work out that interest in the missing twin might not be good for one's health.
Mirival had been dead now for exactly two median months, but the letter had only come into Kamin's possession a few days ago. When the other leading candidates decided not to put themselves forward, it had been a foregone conclusion that he would be elected the new Chief Seer.
As Mirival's deputy, Kamin had already been the forerunner, but when Fauria withdrew his name from consideration - for reasons he chose not to divulge - and Lathan made it clear that he had other things on his mind, the succession was more or less guaranteed. For the sake of appearances, two other seers were persuaded to allow their names to be entered for the ballot, but they had no realistic chance of winning and they knew it. Nevertheless, the wheels of protocol turned with frustrating slowness in such matters, and no one had dared try to speed up the long-drawn-out process for fear of being branded as a constitutional heretic. As a result, Kamin found - when he was officially sworn in at last - that the backlog of paperwork had built up alarmingly. It was some time before he was able to make any headway and was free to examine the rest of his late master's effects. It was then that he had found the letter.
Although he could not be certain, Kamin believed it had probably been delivered on the actual night of Mirival's death, which made it doubly ominous. The Chief Seer had been working late, having dismissed all his servants, and his chamberlain had not found him until the next morning. Mirival had been poisoned. The subsequent investigation, carried out by no less a person than Castellan Deltoro, the commander of the palace garrison of the Imperial Guard, had established that a deadly toxin had been mixed with Mirival's wine. However, despite exhaustive enquiries -which included the questioning of everyone in the palace, from the lowest scullery maid to the Emperor himself - no evidence could be found to determine whether his death had been murder or suicide. In his final report, Deltoro had carefully left his conclusions open. Privately, Kamin was certain that his former superior had not been the type of man to take his own life, but no one could be found who had both the motive and the opportunity to kill him.
It was not the way Kamin would have wished to attain the role of Chief Seer. He was a man of ambition, but - even though he knew himself to be innocent of any involvement - the fact that he had benefited directly from the tragedy was bound to make others suspicious. Moreover, assuming the mantle of leadership at a time when all the Empire was in turmoil was a challenge few men would have relished. He still had much to decide before the council met later that morning.
For a start, he had to decide whether to make public the letter he still held in his hands. Doing so could be dangerous - for himself and for 'Alakor' - but it might also bring the true feelings of the council to the surface. Even Kamin had occasional doubts about the way Jax's twin had been treated. And if they had missed something important in the prophecy . . .
With an effort, he shrugged the misgivings aside. The child had almost certainly died in infancy, so there was no point in pursuing the matter. He would begin the day anew, with a clear mind.
Glancing over at the window, he saw the first glow of dawn in the northern sky - in itself a reminder that he lived in a time of great upheaval. He had already been up and about for some hours, having hardly slept at all, and he had wasted too much of that time. He deliberately set the corner of the letter into the flame of a candle burning on his desk, and watched as it flared up and then crumpled into ash.
Lathan's dreams were filled with huge waves that threatened to overwhelm him, racing currents of boiling white water that swept him towards gaping whirlpools. He went down into darkness, spinning and spinning . . . He woke to find himself slumped over his desk. Even though he was stiff and sore from his cramped and awkward position, it was a relief to know that he was back in Makhaya, many miles from the coast. Then he saw the vast array of tabulated readings and meticulously recorded observations littering the desktop, and knew that there was still work to be done. He had been toiling long into the night before exhaustion had finally overtaken him, and the calculations were almost complete. Instinct had already told him what the results would show, but he was not a man to leave anything to chance.
The last two months had been the most hectic of his life. There had been times when he thought he was only retaining his grip on sanity by devoting himself to the task set by Mirival, and not even the Chief Seer's death had diverted him from it. Earlier in his career Lathan might have considered himself a suitable candidate to lead the council - and many others would have agreed with him -but now that no longer interested him. He had work to do.
He had personally travelled to every important coastal settlement, and had dispatched his chosen deputies to the more remote parts of Vadanis as well as to some of the larger outlying isles. He'd watched and measured the Empire's journey through the ocean, and had seen the heavens rotate above. He had talked to the few men whose boats still braved the roaring currents and treacherous straits around the shore, and had seen for himself the floods and raging seas caused by the recent changes. There were no tides as such - all the connected islands rose and fell with the ocean - but the direction in which they were travelling produced the same effects as if the entire mass was one gigantic ship. In normal times, one part of the coastline - the bows - would be assailed by slow but mountainous waves, while the opposite side - the stern - would see a massive wake trailing away into the distance. But now, with the islands rotating - no matter how slowly - even that could not be relied upon, and the alongshore races were alarmingly unpredictable. By the time of his more recent visits, all but the dullest minds had grasped the fact that the islands were revolving. The laws of nature that had maintained their orientation for centuries past were failing - or were being countered by even more powerful forces. Lathan could not explain this, any more than he could explain the anomalous behaviour of the Dark Moon. But he could measure the effects, and he had done so in thorough fashion - in spite of the fact that every new reading brought him closer to predicting the unthinkable.
He had done everything he could, in time for the council meeting, and all he had to do now was complete the final calculation. Taking his pen in hand, Lathan prepared to confront destiny.
Jax also woke early that morning, but he came to in the comfort of his bed and in a state of smug elation - almost exultation. The girl who lay beside him had proved as pliant in body as she had been in mind. Even though she was older than him, she'd had only a little more experience in the ways of men and women, and the dream that had called her to Jax had been enough to make her do whatever he wanted. He had discovered that his pleasure was not dependent upon hers, although it had filled him with a self-admiring pride when she'd responded with passion of her own. The night had left him sated and contentedly weary - and the best of it was, it had been so easy!
The girl - Jax couldn't remember her name - was one of Adina's chambermaids. He smiled at the thought of his mother's reaction, were she ever to find out how he was taking advantage of what she had taught him about the manipulation of other people's minds. She never would find out, of course, because - once the girl left his chamber - she would remember nothing of where she had been or who she had been with. Those details would slip from her mind like the images of a fading dream.
This was only one of the improvements the prince had made to his mother's technique, and he was now presented with the beguiling prospect of being able to repeat this enterprise at any time he chose. He already knew that there were other girls who would be susceptible, should he decide to share a night with them. One of the most intriguing of these was a daughter of Dheran's by an earlier marriage, who was particularly beautiful, and the fact that she was forbidden to him only made her more attractive.
Dawn was breaking over the city when Jax- woke the girl and told her to leave. He watched complacently as she dressed, thinking back on an aspect of their lovemaking that he had found especially amusing. He had shared his dream unwittingly, but the watching eyes had been both horrified and envious - and when the prince had become aware of the unseen presence, he had gloried in his triumph.
Once the girl had left, Jax wondered how long it would be before he was summoned to the presence of his tutor -if anything, Kamin was even more boring than Mirival had been - but then he remembered that there would be no lessons that day. The Seers' Council was due to meet, and so he was free to do as he pleased. What could be more perfect?
Jax smiled to himself, and went back to sleep.
'In conclusion, gentlemen,' Kamin said, looking round the circular chamber at the solemn faces of his peers, 'the Dark Moon has not only changed in size and velocity, it is still changing. The day-to-day alterations are very small, but measurable. We need therefore to constantly recalculate our forecasts and, if possible, to predict the course of future changes. If we can do that, we may eventually discover what unknown force is causing these anomalies. In the meantime, what we can and must do is determine the effects of the changes on the Floating Islands, and decide what measures we can take to counteract them if necessary.'
The council had already been in session for almost two hours, and much of that time had been spent discussing the now universally acknowledged facts concerning the Dark Moon and the movements of the islands. Many theories had been put forward, including some that were patently ludicrous. Batou, always one to introduce a note of anarchy into any debate, had even claimed that the impact of so-called 'meteors' could have been enough to knock the Empire off course. This was dismissed by the majority as laughable, on the grounds that anything large enough to effect such a change could not possibly fall from the sky - and even if it did, it could not have done so without someone noticing. Others had speculated on the recent abnormal weather conditions and, of course, the Dark Moon's malign influence was also blamed, even though no one could demonstrate how it could have caused such a major disruption. A few men had even quoted from apocalyptic sections of the Tindaya Code, alleging that mankind's own evil had brought the misfortunes upon themselves. That sort of hysterical invective was greeted with derision by most of the seers, but the fact that such feelings had surfaced at all showed how close they were to panic. Kamin had stepped in at this point, hoping to restore an air of calm and rationality to the proceedings. His summary of recent findings had at least put the matter into perspective.
'As you all know,' he went on, realizing that this was a crucial moment and hoping that Lathan would not let him down, 'our colleague here has been conducting a detailed study of the islands' movements, and he is now in a position to report his findings.'
Lathan rose to his feet as Kamin sat down on his ceremonial throne, and the chamber grew silent in anticipation. As Lathan cleared his throat, he thought he saw a flicker of movement by one of the doors, but when he looked again there was nobody there, and he decided it must have been a trick of the light.
'I shall keep this brief and to the point,' he began. 'If any of you wish to study the data I have collected, or to check my calculations, you are welcome to do so, but I am confident that they will withstand any test.
'Firstly, as is common knowledge, the Empire is now rotating. The rate of turn is currently equivalent to one complete revolution every two hundred and ninety-six days, but although the rate has recently stabilized, we have no way of knowing if and when it will increase again, or indeed reverse itself. I can find no explanation to account for the failure of the lodestone principle, but it surely cannot be a coincidence that it has occurred at the same time as the phenomena associated with the Dark Moon.'
There were nods of approval around the chamber. 'Be that as it may,' Lathan continued, 'I can tell you one curious fact. I had postulated that the axis for the rotation would be the islands' accepted centre of mass, and the first indications were that this was correct. However, more detailed analysis has revealed that the centre of rotation is not at Mount Pajara, but some twenty-five miles south of there. This puts it exactly in the centre of the mining district at Betancuria.'
'Must be the monster's doing, then,' one of the seers commented. He had meant it as a joke, and indeed this rare moment of light-heartedness did provoke a good deal of laughter, but - to Kamin's dismay - there were also many who seemed to take the idea seriously, glancing at each other and whispering.
'It is more likely,' Lathan said, unsmiling, 'that earlier estimates of the mass of the Empire below sea level were inaccurate, and that Betancuria is the actual centre of mass.' He paused to take a deep breath, and his expression became even more grim. 'However, it appears that in another matter the rumour-mongers may have got it right. Unless something changes soon, there is a possibility - in fact, a near certainty - that the Floating Islands will eventually collide with one of the mainland continents.'
This statement created an instant uproar, as everyone knew that such a collision would be a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions. For a time it seemed that everyone in the chamber was speaking at once, but eventually Kamin's appeals for quiet were heeded.
'Can you tell us when this is likely to happen?' he asked.
'Our speed relative to the fixed land masses has already increased by more than a fifth,' Lathan replied, 'and it seems to be rising still, albeit erratically. It's impossible to be precise, but my best estimate is in approximately three median months, possibly four.'
This time the reaction of the seers was one of stunned silence. Each man had heard his own death sentence spelt out in Lathan's words.