"Dave Luckett - The Girl The Dragon And The Wild Magic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Luckett Dave)

abunda floribus said twice with a pass of the hands, fingers spread, see diagram.

She looked at the diagram. It was simple enough, and the spell didn't look too hard. There was a bunch
of spring wildflowers in a jar of water on her windowsill, and some earth in a window box. She sprinkled
the earth over the flowers, made the pass with her hands, and whispered the spell.

Nothing happened. Rhianna waited, disappointment growing. Sometimes, nothing happened.
Sometimes...

Then the flowers--little spring flowers, pinks and sunroses and cat's-eyes, bluebells and ladylocks and
fairy bonnets--shook themselves. There was a soft tinkle, and the air swirled in strange colors. The
flowers raised their heads. They straightened.Then they began to grow. Their stems grew long and strong
and leafy, emerald green. And the flowers--

The pinks flushed deep crimson, red as a dragon's heart. Sunroses grew to puffs of bright shining gold the
size of Rhianna's hand, their petals stiff as lace and edged with golden sparkles. Cat's-eyes blazed in
stripes like candy sticks, shiny like satin. Rhianna watched, fascinated, as the ladylocks became knots of
pearl ribbon with silver edges. They brightened until they began to twinkle like stars, tiny points of
many-colored fire coming and going at their centers.

It was like... like growing your own jewel box. Rhianna stretched out a finger, wondering... Did I do
this?

And as she touched, as her finger stroked the first bloom, suddenly it crumpled, the gorgeous colors
faded, and it turned brown and then black. One by one, then all together, the flowers drooped and
shriveled, and the dry leaves pattered to the floor, and the stems died back. A minute later, there was
nothing but a bunch of dry sticks in a jar of water.

Looking at the ruined flowers, Rhianna began to cry. I do nothing but make things worse, she thought.
What use is magic like that? She sniffled and wiped her nose with her hand. And it's no use talking to
Father about it. He won't understand.

But when her father came home, late and tired, there was no talk about Rhianna's schoolwork.

Loys Wildwood was a big man, as big and strong as a smith should be, and he was usually easygoing,
gentle as large people often are, and smiling. But now he looked thoroughly upset.

Dinner was laid on the table. Meg had given up waiting, and had called Rhianna from her room. The
chants and the spell ingredients and the tables of herbs were already blurring in Rhianna's mind, though
she had spent hours saying them over and over. They lay like cold wet stones in her head, heavy and
slippery.

It worried her, but her father's face worried her far more.

"What's the matter, Loys?" Her mother's voice showed the same worry.

He tried to smile. "Oh, nothing, just a problem at work."

"What sort of problem?" Meg Wildwood was a hard woman to shake off. Everyone said so.