"08 - Colors of Chaos.palmdoc.pdb" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

"You, lady healer, are dangerous," pronounced Myredin.
"Me? A quiet and uncomplaining healer?"
"Very dangerous," added Bealtur with a smile, turning to Cerryl. "Best you watch out, Cerryl, or she'll heal you right out of being a Mage."
"I wouldn't do that." Leyladin frowned, then looked straight at Bealtur. "Maybe I could try with you."
"Ha!" Myredin laughed. "Said she was dangerous." Despite his best resolve, Cerryl found himself yawning.
"You ... you have to get up tomorrow, don't you?" asked Leyladin.
"Sometime," he admitted.
"Sometime well before dawn."
"Yes."
"Then we'd better be going."
"I think we'll stay," said Bealtur.
Cerryl and Leyladin rose and made their way out, Cerryl noting that Broka and the others had already left. Cerryl pushed open the door and stepped into the slightly cooler night air, air that had been far warmer before dinner.
"They're trying to figure out why you asked them to join us." The blonde healer looked at Cerryl.
"It doesn't matter if they figure it out."
Cerryl and Leyladin walked slowly up the Avenue, arm in arm, enjoying the comparative cool of evening. He glanced around, but there was no one nearby. "Leyladin... would you do me a favor?"
"What sort of favor?"
"A magely favor. Just watch me for a moment." He let go of Leyladin's arm, stepped away from her, and stood there concentrating. He tried to let the light flow around him, not to direct it or create a full light shield that would render him invisible to the eyes but all too visible to any mage who could sense perturbations in the order-chaos fabric of the world.
"You're not quite there. My eyes... somehow they have trouble seeing you."
"What about your order senses? Do you feel any use of order or chaos?" Cerryl could feel the dampness on his forehead-another skill where he needed more practice.
"No. Not more than a tiny bit, and I couldn't feel that, I don't think, if I weren't right next to you. You're not there to order senses, either, though."
Cerryl let the light slip back to its normal flows.
The blonde healer blinked, shaking her head. "That was strange. I knew you were there, sort of, because you ... are. I could see you, with my eyes, in a way, but I couldn't."
"Thank you." Cerryl extended his arm again.
"Why did you ask me?"
"I trust you." And somehow I've always cared for you, from the first time I saw you through a glass when I was so young and didn't even know exactly what screeing was ...
"Why did you want me there tonight?" asked the healer.
"I like being with you." Cerryl grinned.
"I know that. But that's not the only reason."
"You know why," he answered.
"You don't want them to know." She shook her head. "And it was my suggestion."
"I listen," he pointed out, taking her hand as they walked around the south end of the Market Square. "I especially listen to you."
"I'm not sure whether I like it better when you do or you don't."
He could feel the humor in her words. "Well... if you don't want me to listen ... I could try that."
"I could take another trip-say to Naclos," she countered.
"Naclos? That's where the druids are. People don't come back from there."
Leyladin shrugged playfully. "Then you wouldn't have to listen to me."
"Oh ... now I have to listen to you?"
"No..."
He waited.
"Only if you want me to stay around." She squeezed his arm, then smiled.
Cerryl shook his head slowly.


XX

Kinowin looked up from the table. "You had something odd happen? You only have to report to me once an eight-day, otherwise."
"It's not urgent," Cerryl ventured.
Kinowin smiled wryly. "Since you're already here, you might as well get on with it. Sit down."
Cerryl eased into the chair across the table from the big blond overmage. "The other day, I had another farmer buy a medallion for his cart. The cart was older, but it had never had a medallion." Cerryl studied the older mage.
Kinowin nodded. "Farmers have been known to buy medallions."