"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 07 - The magic Engineer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

"I SUPPOSE I owe this to you." Kadara does not look at Dorrin as they step onto the uncovered
porch.
"Me?"
Kadara steps onto the stone walk to the library. "If you hadn't been so interested in smithing,
then father wouldn't have gotten to know your father."
"Maybe ..." How can neighbors not come to know each other?
The stiff eastern breeze carries the tang of salt as it whips Kadara's long red hair almost
into Dorrin's face.
"Do you mind if I join you?" The voice is mellow, deep, and youthfully enthusiastic.
Dorrin looks over his shoulder and up at the tall blond figure with broad shoulders. "We're
going to a meeting-"
"I know. I'm new, too. That's why I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm Brede." Brede wears gray
trousers and a blue, long-sleeved farmer's shirt.
"Dorrin." He continues to match strides with Kadara.
"Kadara."
"I'm from Lydkler, in the hills above the Feyn Valley. It's so small no one-almost no one,
anyway-has ever heard of it. Where are you two from? Are you related?" Brede's words tumble out
and are followed by a broad and open smile. A gust of wind sprays fine blond hair around his face,
and a hand twice the size of Dorrin's absently brushes it back.
"We're from Extina," admits Dorrin.
"Brother and sister?"
"Hardly," snaps Kadara.
"Oh ... the red hair . . . I just thought..."
"It's just coincidence-the red hair, I mean."
A long shadow falls across the walk as a high puffy cloud scuds toward the western horizon and
blocks the low sun.
"Oh . . . well. . . isn't Extina close to Land's End? It's not far from here at all. I saw a
road marker just before we got here..."
Kadara's lips remain closed as she marches up under the covered porch and reaches for the dark
steel handle of the black oak door. Sunlight returns to the Academy grounds.
"No," admits Dorrin. "It's only about ten kays north."
Clunk. .. The black oak door thuds shut in Dorrin's face.
"She's a little unhappy, isn't she?" observes Brede.
Dorrin opens the door.
"You're both unhappy," reflects the young giant.
"Neither one of us is exactly thrilled to be here." Dorrin pushes through the doorway. Kadara
opens the next door-the one to the library.
"She isn't. That's for certain," adds Brede, an amused edge to the deep-toned voice. "It won't
change anything, though."
Dorrin grins, warming to the big young man in spite of Brede's forwardness. "Somehow, I don't
think it will." He pauses to note the two silver-bordered cork boards, one on each side of the
foyer. Both contain grids with times at the left, and boxes filled with a few words each. The
grids look similar to the appointment sheets kept by his father. Dorrin crosses the foyer and
continues along the short corridor toward the library.
After stepping into the library, Dorrin scans the tables, counting three female and four male
figures seated around two tables. No one is seated around the window table. With a deep breath, he
edges around the table to the far left and sits next to Kadara. On his immediate left is the wall.
Brede settles in the last seat at the other table, grinning briefly as Dorrin looks across the
perhaps ten cubits that separate them.
On the other side of Kadara sits a solid young woman, wearing a bright orange-red blouse that