"Mercedes Lackey & Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 01 - The Black Gryphon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

snorted. "I thought I was being punished. I was put in here with you, featherhead." He raised his head
from his foreclaws and regarded Tamsin and Cinnabar with a long-suffering gaze. "I'll have you know,"
he continued, in mock aggravation, "he whistles in his sleep."
"So do you," Skan countered. "I dreamed I was being attacked by a giant, tone-deaf songbird, and
woke up to discover it was you. Maybe it was yourself you heard, loud enough to wake yourself up!"
"I don't think so," Aubri countered, then put his head back down on his foreclaws and pretended to
sleep.
Skan chuckled again. "I like him," he confided to Tamsin in an easily-overheard feigned whisper,
"But don't let him know. He'll get arrogant enough to be mistaken for me."
A single snort of derision was all that came from the "sleeping" Aubri.
"Well, you know why we are here," Cinnabar told him, coming up behind her lover and giving him a
greeting that was more than half a caress.
"Yesss," Skan said. "You are here to pretend to tend to my hurts, while you put your hands all over
each other. Tchah! You lifebonded types! Always all over each other! Bad enough that as humans you
are always in season—"
"And you are not?" Aubri rumbled from the background.
"What?" Skan asked. "Did I hear something?"
"No," Aubri replied. "I am asleep. You heard nothing."
"Ah, good." Skan returned his attention to the two humans who were doing their best not to break
into laughter. "As I said, bad enough that you are always in season—but you lifebonded types are always
preening each other. It's enough to give an honest gryphon sugar-sickness."
"Then Skandranon is in no danger, for he is hardly honest," came the rumble.
Skan shook his head, sadly. "What did I tell you? The lout not only whistles in his sleep, he mumbles
nonsense as well. Perhaps most of his injuries were to his rump, since that is surely where his brain
resides."
"He's upset I'm not succumbing to his imagined 'charisma,'" Aubri grumbled, raising his head. "And
upset I beat him in his fledgling-baiting 'logic puzzles.'"
"You have no logic to use. Lucky guesses, all of them. I beat Urtho with them." Skandranon looked
back to the Healers, chagrined.
Cinnabar moved to the gryphon's left, hands moving expertly over his wing and flank. "Gesten did a
fine job with you, I see—you look very fit. You'll soon be in good enough shape to dazzle all the
potential mates you like, Skan. Are you finally going to take a mate?"
Skandranon flicked his wings suddenly and stabbed a glare at her which was much harsher than he'd
really intended. He felt his nares darkening. How maddening to be constantly asked that! As if they had
placed bets on who and when and how!
Cinnabar bit her lip and backed off, pretending—pretense that was just a little too obvious—to
search for something in her belt packs. Tamsin broke the tension by clearing his throat and pulling Skan's
head toward him.
"Here now, Skan, let me look at your eyes."
"He'll just think you're in love with him," Aubri snickered.
Before Skan could make any retort, Tamsin clamped Skandranon's beak closed with one hand and
stabbed a Look at him. This was serious business. Gryphons could judge relative distance and speed
from each eye independently, and could clearly compare minute details of objects directly ahead. The
paper texture of the book Skandranon had been studying, for instance, had been in sharp relief to him,
even the furrows left by the pen. Like many other parts of a gryphon's body, though, the eyes were used
to judge the health of the rest of the body. Tamsin leaned in until his face was barely inches away from
the lens of Skandranon's right eye, becoming an encompassing blur which filled most of his wide field of
vision. "You're dilating well. Not as scratchy as I'd expect. No problems with focus? Good depth
perception from each eye?"
"With Aubri, therre's little depth to ssstudy," Skandranon said dryly. "But yes, all seems to be well