"Rebecca Neason - 13th Scroll 02 - The Truest Power" - читать интересную книгу автора (Neason Rebecca)Contents Map 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 Epilogue Appendices To Betsy Mitchell, editor and friend. I will miss you. THE TRUEST POWER Chapter One Lysandra sat on the stone bench at the center of her garden, enjoying a moment of stillness. This was one of those rare spaces in activity where it felt as if the whole world was holding its breath. No bee buzzed or bird chirped; no creature, human or animal, moved; no tree rustled in the afternoon breeze. There was nothing but warmth and silence and peace. These moments never lasted more than a few heartbeats. Soon, the waiting world would exhale, and the activity of life would begin again. But for this brief instant, Lysandra’s spirit basked in the preternatural silence and was refreshed. There, a bird made the first call... a bee flew to the next flower... the moment was gone in a soft but unmistakable passing. Lysandra, too, exhaled. From within her cottage, she heard the sound of voices—first Selia’s, then Renan’s response. Soon, footsteps entered the growing richness of being, ones Lysandra recognized as much with her heart as with her ears. She moved slightly to one side, making room for Renan to join her on the bench. She did not bother to call upon her Sight; although once it was a spurious gift that came and went by a pattern she could neither name nor control, now she had but to need it, and it was there. But she did not need it for Renan. His footsteps, like his presence, were now almost as well-known to her as her own. When they had met, his thoughts and emotions had been completely shielded from her. It had been a unique relief to Lysandra. For the last ten years, the nearness of other humans had been a painful experience in which her mind was bombarded by all the thoughts, all the needs and hopes, fears and sorrows humans unwittingly projected. Most human minds were like a sieve through which all these, and more, ran in a constant, unstoppable flow—and she caught them all. It was a large part of why she chose and protected her solitude. |
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