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

'How?'
'With suggestion and belief. My suggestion and your belief. I put the idea in your head, and you persuaded yourself it was true.'
'But-'
'Don't you sometimes know something's true, without knowing how or why?' the pedlar asked.
'Intuition, you mean?'
'Exactly. In this case, I am your intuition. In the old tongue it was called "psinoma", which means "invisible words". A transfer of thoughts directly between minds, without the need of verbal communication - and sometimes without the person on the receiving end even being aware of what's happening.'
'So you control their minds?' Terrel asked. All his instincts were rebelling at the idea, insisting that it was wrong, but he was fascinated nonetheless.
'Not exactly,' Babak replied. 'I can't make anyone believe something they don't want to believe. In effect, all I said to you was "You're right. My eyes are changing colour."'
'And I saw what I wanted to be true?'
'That's right. Of course I don't usually waste the glamour on something like the colour of my eyes. There'd be no point in that. But it might be different for you.'
'You really think I could do it too?' Terrel asked.
'I'm sure of it.'
'But how? Can you teach me? I've no idea how to even begin.'
'Oh, you began long before you even met me,' Babak said. 'If you think about it, you'll realize that.'
Terrel thought about it. The first, and most obvious, thing that came to mind was his ability to converse with Alyssa and the ghosts. During those exchanges he had always spoken aloud, but now he was wondering if that had really been necessary. He had sometimes felt that Alyssa might be aware of his unspoken thoughts. But, up until that moment, he had assumed that he was able to converse with them because of their skills. Now he was not so sure. The second, and far more surprising, idea concerned his premonitions about earth tremors. That was a
form of intuition he could not explain, but it seemed to be felt by his entire being, rather than just his mind. And if that were a form of psinoma, he could not imagine who the other mind might be.
'Well?' Babak prompted.
'I may well have been on the receiving end of something,' Terrel conceded vaguely. He had no wish to elaborate further at that moment. 'But I still don't see how I can use it for myself.'
'All right,' the pedlar said. 'Let's try an experiment. Picture something in your mind as clearly as you can, and then imagine you're telling me all about it - but don't say anything. Can you do that? Make sure it's something I couldn't have seen.'
Terrel nodded his agreement. He concentrated as hard as he could, closing his eyes to picture the scene, then 'heard' himself telling Babak all about it. The pedlar laughed.
'A piglet with an earring?' he exclaimed. 'By the stars, but you do keep some peculiar company!'
Although that night did not bring the proper bed Babak had promised, it was still a lot more comfortable than Terrel had been used to. The pedlar decided they would camp by the roadside in open country and, once Luci had pulled the cart onto a convenient patch of grass, he showed Terrel how his mode of transport became his living quarters. An ingenious system of levers and pulleys converted the canvas covering into a tent, and while the contents were usually laid out to fit only one bed roll, it took only minor adjustments to make space for a second. Terrel got the feeling that Babak had done this before. The tent would be a little cramped when they were both inside, surrounded by the chests and boxes that presumably held the pedlar's merchandise, but to the young wanderer it seemed like absolute luxury.
Babak did provide the decent meal he had mentioned earlier, lighting a fire and producing a remarkably succulent vegetable stew that they ate with hard biscuits flavoured with salt and herbs. Only when they had finished the last of the food did the pedlar allow his guest to continue their conversation from earlier in the day.
It had taken Terrel quite some time to recover from his astonishment at the success of their experiment - and when he had, the list of questions he'd wanted to ask had been almost endless. He could not deny that an exchange of thoughts had taken place, but he believed that this had only been possible because of Babak's own talent. The pedlar had denied this and told Terrel he would give him further proof the next day, when they would meet other people. 'You could disguise your eyes now, if you wanted to,' he had said. 'But I realize you wouldn't accept that, because I'd know what you were trying to do. We'll have to wait until we meet someone who doesn't know you.' Terrel had been both frightened and excited by this idea, and they had talked a great deal about how he should go about it, before Babak decided that he had had enough of the subject for the time being and left the boy to his own reflections. Now, as he cleared away their bowls, the pedlar seemed amenable again.
'You used the glamour on me earlier, didn't you?' Terrel began. 'To change your appearance and your voice. Why did you bother to do that? You had no need to impress me.'
'Habit, I suppose - at first, at least,' Babak answered. 'But then, like I said, you looked like someone interesting.'
'And someone who could earn his keep?' Terrel prompted.
'I could see ways you might be able to help me make a sale or two,' the pedlar admitted.
'By lying to people? Pretending you can cure this?' Terrel waved his withered right arm.
'You disapprove.' It was a statement rather than a question.
'I don't like the idea of cheating people.'
'I never promise the impossible,' Babak claimed. 'If people infer miracles from what they see and hear, that's another matter. Besides, as I said, they'll only believe what they want to believe.'
'That's another thing,' Terrel said. 'You told me your curses are effective too. Why would anyone want to believe a curse?'
'Because, deep in their hearts, they know I wouldn't curse them unless it was just, unless they deserved punishment.'
'So, in effect, they bring the curse on themselves?'
'You could look at it that way.'
Terrel shook his head. He found such ideas disturbing, and he did not know how his mentor had come to terms with them.
'Doesn't it frighten you?' he asked. 'The power you have?'
'Why should it?' Babak replied. 'Some people are beautiful, or phenomenally strong, others are talented musicians or artists, and some have an aptitude for healing or prophecy. We all take advantage of the gifts we've been given in life.'
'But isn't this rather more than that?' Terrel persisted. 'I mean, you could make people believe anything?
'You mean I lack the ambition to go with my evil sorcery?' the pedlar responded, a humorous glint in his eyes. 'Why don't I go to Makhaya and make the Emperor do what I want?'
'Well, why don't you?' Terrel challenged.
'Firstly, because even my powers are limited,' Babak said, still smiling, 'and secondly, because even if I could do it, I've no wish for the sort of life and status you'd find at court.'
'You'd rather separate peasants from their hard-earned coins?'
'What can I say? They're my audience.' 'You . . . are a rogue,' Terrel declared, but he could not help smiling even as he said it.
'A rogue?' Babak gasped, fluttering a hand over his heart. 'Such language from the lips of one so young and innocent! Forgive me, I have to recover my breath.'
Terrel was glad the fire had died down and the evening was drawing in, so that the blush on his face was less noticeable, but he was laughing too, unable to summon up the righteous anger that he knew he should be feeling.
'I can be generous too,' the pedlar said, when they had both quietened down. 'I know. And I'm grateful.'
'I don't mean helping you on your way, or the bed and the meal,' Babak told him. 'I want you to fulfil your potential. You're my apprentice now, Terrel, whether you like it or not. And tomorrow we'll put what you've already learnt into practice.'
'Where are we going?' the boy asked, trying not to think about his own possible use of the glamour. 'By evening we'll be in Tiscamanita.' 'Isn't that on the coast?' Terrel had not realized that his wanderings had taken him so far to the west of the island. 'It is indeed,' the pedlar replied. 'And the day after tomorrow will be the Moon Festival there.'