"Andre Norton - Witch World - Warlock of the Witch World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

in the field was firmly established. It seemed that he controlled powers of his own, having
had for tutor in his childhood one of the few remaining wonder workers who had set a
limit on his own studies and used what he learned for the preservation of the small
portion of Escore into which he had fled. So high was Dinzil in Ethutur’s respect that I did
not venture to mention my own doubts; for what was feeling against such proofs?

There came no signal from the other isle. We ate again and rolled in our blankets for
sleep. But with sleep there came to me such a dream of evil as brought me sitting up, cold
and shivering, wet drops running down my cheeks to drip from my chin. I had had such a
dream before Kaththea had been rift from us—so had I awakened then, unable to
remember what I had dreamed, yet knowing it to be evil indeed.
I could not sleep again, nor could I disturb Ethutur with my restlessness. What I
wanted most of all was to leave this island, strike out for the Valley to see for myself that
no ill had chanced to those two who were the other parts of me. Greatly daring, I stole
away from the campsite and went down to the shore, facing as I hoped in the direction of
the Valley—though in this place I could not truly be sure of north, south, east or west.

Then I put my head in my hands, and I sent forth the call. For I must know. When
there was no answer, I put to the full strength of my will and sent again.

Faint, very faint, came the answer. Kaththea . . . alarmed for me. Quickly I let her
know that the danger was not mine, but that I feared for her or Kyllan. Then she replied
that all was safe, that it must be some evil in the land between us. But she urged to cut
the bond, lest it be seized upon by an ill force and used to seek me out. So sharp was she I
did as she bade. But I was not satisfied; it was as if, though she reported all aright, it
would not be so for long.
“Who are you, to call upon the spirit of another?”

I was so startled by that query out of the night that my sword flashed in the
moonlight even as I turned. Then I dropped it, point to the ground, and watched her
come into the open, her webbed feet noiseless on the sand. The waters of the lake had
made her garment like unto a second skin, and she seemed very small and frail, her pallor
a part of the moonlight. She brushed back wet strands of hair and tightened the shell
band which held it out of her eyes.
“Why do you call?” As Orias’, her voice lacked timbre, was soft and monotonous.

Though I am not one who naturally tells all to strangers, yet at that moment I spoke
the truth.

“I dreamed evilly, as I have beforetimes in warning. I sought those I had reason to
be concerned about, my sister and brother.”
“I am Orsya, and you?” She did not comment upon my words; it was as if she needed
at once some identification.

“Kemoc—Kemoc Tregarth out of Estcarp,” I told her.

“Kemoc,” she repeated. “Ah, yes, you are one of the outlanders who have come to
make trouble . . .”
“We did not come to make it,” I corrected her. Somehow it was necessary to assure
her of that. “We were fleeing trouble of our own, and we came over the mountains, not