"Holly Lisle - World Gates 03 - Gods Old and Dark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lisle Holly)

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our safety-deposit box, taped to the back. It’s labeled ‘Spare House Key.’” He took a deep
breath and gave her the lie, because lies were sometimes better than the truth. “I loved you
more than I ever loved anyone, but I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry, Nancy. I really
am. I wish you well, and hope that you’ll someday find someone who’s good enough for
you.”

She was yelling, but he cut her off.

Then, because he didn’t want her to be able to call him again, he threw the cell phone out
the window. He’d gotten the phone for her, so she could call him when she needed him,
and now there was no more her.

Keep it clean. Let her hate him. Give her a reason to say “Good riddance” and move on
with her life.

Heyr studied those trees at the top of the rise. Probably not, he decided after a moment. He
was still too close to town. He drove past them, rolled onward. Fine countryside
surrounded him—a land dotted with glacial lakes, scoured by an ancient ice age, grown
back tough and fierce. He’d spent a long time in Wisconsin, and he’d grown comfortable
there. The place fit him, fit him as well as any place he’d ever lived.

He sighed. Sooner or later, it had always been time to move on. This time, it had been
sooner.

He let the road hum beneath his tires for a while, until he found a good spot to pull off the
pavement. He drove the truck down a two-rut road, listening to the hiss of tall grasses
dragging against the truck sides, smelling the green of late summer so rich in his nose it
was almost a feeling, sensing the weight of the heat, liking the taste of dust billowing up
from the track. This newest smell—this spring-blown thread of life—curled his toes,
arched his back, made him hungry and sharp and tight as a new bowstring. Took some of
the edge off of pain so overwhelming he’d stopped fighting it, pain so old that he’d
forgotten until just now that pain sometimes lessened, instead of always getting worse.

Good stand of trees up ahead, fronted by some low understory growth that formed a
natural arch over the road. Yes. He was far enough; this place would do. He pulled up
close, left the truck running, and from his glove compartment, pulled out a length of twine.
He measured out four arm’s lengths, frowned thoughtfully and added another two arm’s


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lengths, and snapped the twine in two with one sharp movement. He hopped out of the