"Mary Rosenblum - Color Vision" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenblum Mary)

“I saw true-shapes, Cris. And Mr. Teleomara knew my name. My
mom’s name, I mean. My real one.”

“Zoroan.” Cris looks scared. “Your mom has to have been one of the
First Born. That means he’s after you, too. You’re her firstborn, right?”

“Yeah, but...”

“Okay, this is a cool club.” Jeremy’s words are pill yellow. “But I don’t
speak the language. I’m going home to play with my Xbox.” And he starts
for the wall.

“Wait a minute,” I say, because I really want him to stay. But all of a
sudden those stupid vines start really wrapping around my ankles.

“Go hide!” Cris looks over his shoulder at the castle. “My uncle is
coming. I’m not supposed to have any visitors.”

Jeremy’s already on top of the wall and I scramble up after him. I
don’t know why his uncle is so paranoid about visitors. Cris says it’s
because his uncle thinks this Zoroan is prowling around. I catch up with
Jeremy at the top and grab his leg as he starts to climb over. “Lie down
flat,” I whisper. “Cris’s uncle is coming and we’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, thanks.” Jeremy is really pissed now. “Get me arrested for
trespassing, why don’t you?”

“Just shut up.” And I shove him and he sprawls flat on top of the wall
under the apple branch that hangs over it and I’m on top of him and there’s
no time to do anything else because all of a sudden, I see this silver sparkly
shimmer at the other end of the garden and all the vines just kind of curl
aside, like Sunday school pictures of Moses parting the Red Sea, you
know?
 Oh, shit.

“Let’s just climb down and get out of here,” Jeremy grumbles.

“Shut up.” I whisper it this time and pinch him. Hard. The silver stuff
flows along that parted-Red-Sea path and coils around Cris’s wheelchair
like Mr. Beasley might. If he was really big. And I don’t think Cris even sees
it, he’s just kind of looking at the door at the end of the vine’s path. And I
don’t know if I should yell or go back or what. I start to sit up but the apple
limb gets caught in my shirt or something and I can’t get loose.

The door opens.

“That’s Mr. Teleomara,” Jeremy hisses. “What’s he doing here?”

And I look at Cris, and it’s like he got turned to stone in his chair. He
just sits there, doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. Mr. Teleomara walks