"Myst - 01 - The Book Of Atrus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Rand)

"Flame?"

Anna nodded. She watched her grandson a moment, then spoke again. "There's a
small day bowl in the kitchen ..."

Atrus looked up. "The blue one?"

"Yes. Flame can use it. In fact, she could probably do with some water now,
having been in that sack"

Atrus smiled, then, as if he'd done it all his infant life, picked the kitten up
with one hand, cradling it against his side, and carried her across, vaulting up
the steps in twos and threes before ducking inside the kitchen. A moment later
he reemerged, the bowl in his other hand.

"Come on. Flame," he said, speaking softly to the kitten as if it were a child,
his thumb gently rubbing the top of its head, "lets get you a drink."

* * *

As darkness fell, Atrus sat on the narrow balcony that ran the length of the
outer sleeping chamber, the dozing kitten curled beside him on the cool stone
ledge as he stared up at the moon. It had been a wonderful day, but like all
days it had to end. Below and to his right, he could see his grandmother, framed
in the brightly lit window of the kitchen, a small oil lamp casting its soft
yellow glow over her face and upper arms as she worked, preparing a tray of
cakes. They, like the kitten, were a treat, to celebrate his seventh birthday in
two days' time.

The thought of it made him smile, yet into his joy seeped an element of
restlessness. Happy as he was here with his grandmother, he had recently begun
to feel that there was more than this. There had to be.

He looked past the moon, following a line of stars until he found the belt of
the hunter, tracing the shape of the hunters bow in the night sky as his
grandmother had taught him. There were so many things to know, so many things
yet to learn.

And when I've learned them all, grandmother?

He remembered how she had laughed at that, then leaned toward him. There's never
an end to learning, Atrus. There are more things in this universe, yes, and more
universes, than w could ever hope to know.

And though he did not quite understand what she had meant by that, simply
staring at the vastness of the night sky gave him some tiny inkling of the
problem. Yet he was curious to know all he could-as curious as the sleeping
kitten beside him was indolent.

He looked down from that vastness. All about him the cleft was dotted with tiny