"Moon, Elizabeth - Deed Of Paksenarrion - 02 - Divided Allegiance V1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

"And anything else they can find, of course. Wild sheep, for meat. But—I don't think well have much trouble, at this season, Paksenarrion. The pass should not be snowed in. But if we do see one, remember that they're the most dangerous wild creature in the mountains. I don't except men—a snowcat is more dangerous than a band of brigands."
"But how? Are they—"
"I'm telling you. The snowcat is a magical beast, like the dragon and the eryx. It lives on both sides of the world, and feeds on both sides. For meat it eats wild sheep, or horses, or men. For delight it eats souls, particularly elven and human, though I understand it takes dwarven souls often enough that the dwarves fear it."
"I thought elves didn't have souls—"
Macenion suddenly looked embarrassed. "I didn't know you knew so much about elves."
"I don't, but that's what I heard—they don't have souls because they don't need them—they live forever anyway."
"TTiat's not the reason—but in feet, you're right. Elves don't have souls—not full-blooded elves. But—' he gave her a rueful smile. "I don't like to admit it, Paks, but in feet I am not pure elven."
"But you said—"
"Well, I'm more elven than human—I do take after my ;!elven ancestors much more. You yourself wouldn't call me human—"
Paks had to agree with that, but she still felt affronted. "Well, if you're not elven—"
"I am. I am—well—you could say—hatf-elven. Human-elven. If you must know, that's how I gained my mastery of human wizardry as well as elven magic." He drew himself up, and took on the expression she found most annoying.
"Oh,'Paks left this topic, and returned to the other…"But the snowcat—can't we fight it off? We have a bow, and—"
"No. It is truly magical, Paksenarrion. It can spell your soul out of you before you could strike a blow. I am a mage and part elf; it will desire mine even more."
Paks thought about it. It seemed to her that this meant nothing more than death. She started to ask Macenion, and he turned, startled.
"No! By the First Tree, you humans know nothing, even of your own conditionl It is not die same thing as being killed. When you die, your soul goes—well, I don't know your background, and I'd hate to upset your beliefs—" Paks glared at him, and he went on. "You have a soul, and it goes somewhere—depending on how you've lived. Is that plain enough? But if a snowcat eats your soul, it never gets where it should go. It's trapped there, in the snowcat, forever."
"Oh. But then—what does it want with a soul?"
"Paksenarrion, it's magical. It does magic with souls. I don't know how it started, or why; I only know it does. Somehow the souls it eats feed its magic powers. If we see a snowcat, well flee at once—try to outrun it. Whatever you do, don't look into its eyes." He walked on quietly some hundred paces. Then: "Paksenarrion, how did you make Windfoot come to you?"
She had not thought about his surprise since that day. "I don't know. I suppose—he knows me now. He knows I have apples. Horses have always liked me."
Macenion shook his head. "No. It must be something more. He's elfbred; our horses wouldn't go to humans unless—do you have any kind of magical tools? A—a bracelet, or ring, or—"
Paks thought of Canna's medallion; surely that wouldn't have moved an elfbred horse. "No," she said. "Not that I know of."
"Mmph. Would you mind if I checked that?"
"What?"
"I could—urn—look for it."
"For what?"
Macenion turned on her, eyes blazing. "For whatever you used, human, to control my horse!"
"But I didn't! I don't have anything—"
"You must. Windfoot would never come to a human—"
"Macenion, any horse will come to anyone kind. Look at Star—"
"Star is a—a miserable, shaggy-coated, cow-hocked excuse of a pack pony."
Paks felt the blood rush to her face. "Star is beautiful! She's—"
Macenion sneered. "You! What do you know about—"
"Windfoot came to me. I must know something." Paks realized that her hand had found her sword-hilt. She saw Macenion glance at it. He sighed, and looked patient.
"Paksenarrion, I'm sorry I abused Star. But she is a pony, and human-bred; she is not an elfbred horse. There's a difference. Just look at Windfoot." They both looked. Windfoot cocked an ear back and whuffled, whether at Star or Paks was uncertain. Paks could not sustain her anger, with Windfoot's elegant form before her. Macenion seemed to recognize the moment her anger foiled, because he went on. "If you're carrying a magical item, without knowing it perhaps, it could be dangerous—or very helpful. Magical items in the hands of the unskilled—"
Paks bristled again. "I'm not giving you anything."
"I didn't mean that." But Paks thought he had meant exactly that. "If you have such an item, I can show you how to use it. Think, Paksenarrion. Perhaps it's something that would call danger to us—wolves, say—or—"
"Ail right." Paks was tired of the argument. "All right; look for it. But, Macenion, what I have is mine; I'm not giving it up. If it calls danger, well just fight the danger."
"I understand." He looked pleased. "We can camp here—I know it's early, but I’ll need time. And the horses could use the rest. They can graze in this meadow."
Shortly they had the camp set up, and both animals had been watered and fed. Macenion withdrew to one sio!e of the fire, and brought out his pouch. Paks watched with interest as he fished inside it. He looked up at her and glared.
"Don't watch."
"Why not? I've never seen a mage—"
"And you won't. By Orphin, do you want to get your ears singed? Or your eyes burnt out? Can't I convince you that magic is dangerous?" Paks did not move. She was tired of being sneered at. Macenion muttered in what she supposed was elven, and turned his back. She thought of circling die fire to see what he was doing, but decided against it. Instead she lay back, staring up at the afternoon sky bright overhead. So far they had had good travel weather; she hoped it would continue. She shifted her hips off a sharp fragment of rock and let her eyes sag shut. She could hear the horses tearing grass nearby; to her amusement, she could distinguish Star and Windfoot by sound alone. Star took three or four quick bites of grass, followed by prolonged chewing; Windfoot chewed each bite separately. She opened her eyes to check on them and glanced at Macenion. His back still faced her. She closed her eyes again and dozed off.
"I found it." Paks opened her eyes to see Macenion's excited face. She rubbed her face and sat up.
"You found what?"
"The magic ring you're wearing." Macenion sounded as smug as he looked.
"What? I don't have any magic ring!"
"You certainly do. That one." He pointed to the intricate twist of gold wires that Duke Phelan had given her in Dwarfwatch.
"That's not magic," said Paks, but with less assurance. The Duke had said nothing about magic, and surely he would have known.
"It is. Its power is over animals; that's why you could use it on Windfoot."
"I didn't use it on Windfoot. I just called him and held out my hand…"
"That's all it would take. You touched it—perhaps accidentally, since you say you didn't know about it."