"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 10 - The Black Raven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

plastered his hair to his head. He let the colours fade and the music die
away, then bowed deeply to the crowd.
'The Great Krysello is weary! But lo! we have other wonders to show you.'
At the signal Vinto's acrobats, all dressed in gaudy silks, rushed onto the
stage. The crowd roared and threw coins in a copper and silver rain. As they
tumbled around the stage, the acrobats scooped them up. Salamander stepped
back to the shadows at the rear. While he mopped the sweat from his face and
hair with a scarf, he looked out over the crowd.
One man caught his attention immediately, a tall fellow, standing right in
front. His body seemed to waver like a reflection on moving water, and his
clothes looked more like wisps of fog or smoke hung around him, or maybe just
placed in his general vicinity, than solid cloth. Yet no one standing near him
seemed to notice the least thing unusual. When the acrobats arranged
themselves into a human pyramid, he clapped and smiled like anyone else. The
flute and drums began their music; applause rippled, then died. The flickering
stranger crossed his arms over his chest and stood reasonably still.
But always his eyes searched through the shadows. Salamander knew at once that
the man - no, the being, some strange non-human thing - was looking for him.
He could feel a gaze probing, feel alien sight run down his body like clammy
hands. With a shriek lost in the music, he turned and leapt down from the
stage, then took out running through the night. Down long streets he raced,
panting for breath; in alleyways he stopped and looked around him. The door.
He had to find the dark wood door bound in iron.
Past taverns, past craftsmen's shops he jogged, looking at each door, peering
into shadows while cold sweat ran down his back and his chest ached - nowhere
did he find it. He ran again, then slowed to a stumbling walk. Around him the
city lay dark and silent. The night hung over the river, an oily rush of dark
water against a darker sky. Salamander stopped, listening. Water slapped
against wooden docks. Footsteps rustled on stone. With a roar to the Lords of
Fire, he spun around and flung up both hands. A gust of silver flame towered
up and lit the alley in a cold glare. Black shadow outlined every stone on
wall and street and seemed to carve some incomprehensible meaning into them.
Thieves shrieked and ran, dashing away down the alley - two small men,
carrying knives. In the dying light from the silver flare he watched them till
they skittered around a corner and disappeared. Salamander laughed, then
headed to the river bank. He could follow it upstream to the caravanserai.
He arrived to find the troupe clustering around a fire and talking. Marl,
i^paced back and forth at the edge of the pool of light, and every now and
then she raised her hands to her face as if she wept.
'Here!' Salamander called out. 'What's so wrong?"
The troupe froze, then burst out laughing and cheering all at once. Marka ran
to him and flung her arms around him.
'My thanks to every god!' Her voice quavered on the edge of sobs. 'I was so
worried.'
Salamander slipped his arms around her waist and held her while he murmured
small soothing noises. At last her trembling quieted.
'Have I been gone so long?' he said.
'Well past the midnight bells, yes.' She looked up at him. 'Why did you run
like that?'
'I don't remember.' He felt himself yawn and shook his head. 'I'm exhausted,