"Bud Sparhawk - Magic's Price" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sparhawk Bud)

that fast!

He was heartsick for the rest of the day and finished the tour of the fences in a slough of despond. Surely
Tash would tell Arthur Thomas of his boastful words, of the foolish pride that made him unfit to be a
tinker, of his arrogance in thinking he could actually learn magic. The shame burned like a fierce flame.
His life was ruined. Ruined!

He took a long time wiping Dan down and cleaning the ice from his hooves. He knew he was just trying
to forestall the inevitable truth that awaited him and tried to think of some way he could avoid the
embarrassing confrontation to come.

Jacob finally screwed up his courage and entered the house. Everything appeared normal. The women
were doing their chores; mother preparing dinner, his sisters at their lessons—Ev secretly reading a note
hidden behind her book—and his father glowering over the tractor's crumbling maintenance manual.
Neither Arthur Thomas nor Tash Pallas were present, nor was Blade, the dark one.

“Where are the magicians?” Jacob asked casually. Maybe they had not yet told his family the bitter
news.

“Stowing their belongings, I imagine. Arthur Thomas said the others will be in later,” his father growled.
“Damn it, I can't remember what all these words mean.” He was struggling with the pile of crumbling
paper held together with stitches and glue. “I'm glad you're going to learn the tinker's trade. Maybe you'll
be able to translate this for me.”

Jacob's heart stopped. If he hadn't spoken so boastfully maybe he could have looked forward to helping
his father. But Tash had declared he'd never be a tinker. Now he would have to let someone else help his
father.

The remainder of the evening passed in silence. Jacob sat still, dreading the magicians’ arrival, but most
of all anticipating the pain he would see on his father's face when they informed him that his son, the
boastful Jacob Kettleman, could never be more than a simple farmer like himself.

He wished he would die now and be spared.

Neither Tash nor Blade accompanied Arthur Thomas. The elder magician graciously thanked them all
for their hospitality in general and singled out Jacob's mother with praise for the fresh apple pies, praise
that brought a warm smile to her face but obviously sat poorly with his scowling father.

“I have a warning for you,” Arthur Thomas said casually and Jacob leaned forward. The magician's
portent might be about him, about what Tash had said. “Spring is advancing from the south much earlier
than usual. You should soon be experiencing a line of storms.”

Earlier did he say? How could he know so much? Was he the creator of the warmth or merely the
oracle?

“Spring storms aren't due for another month at least,” his father said firmly. Everyone paid close attention
to the changing seasons because the growing season was so short. Luckily, the changes of the seasons
were entirely predictable from the position of the sun. The spring thaw in particular was reason for
concern. The storms that accompanied it loosed the water trapped in the mountains and made the river
flood. “Storms always follow the sun's passage to the north.”