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

innards. There were strange boxes that, when opened, revealed small cities with brightly colored houses
and silver trails. The boxes were connected with solid pipes through which nothing could flow. And what
was one of make of the heavy disks?

He often wondered what forces might lurk inside those tiny, closed, multi-colored dwellings, what
mystical creatures hastened along those silvery avenues on their magical tasks, and what functions were
performed when they reached their destinations. Despite a lack of revelations from his probes, he
nevertheless dreamed of someday harnessing the inhabitants to do his bidding. But that day would have
to wait; any attempt to remove and inspect the tiny towns was to risk the wrath of his father.

“Best to leave alone what you don't understand,” his father had scolded when he first came upon one of
Jacob's early exploratory surgeries. He had been sitting in the barn, surrounded by arms and levers,
knobs and buttons, linkages and motors; the scattered entrails of his mechanical patient.

“But,” Jacob wailed after his spanking, “How can I ever understand if I have to leave everything alone?”
His father's silence was answer enough, so, ever since, he'd confined his studies to those times and places
where no one could discover him.

His father had been harsh, no doubt because he himself was so often suspected of being not entirely
unskilled in the arcane arts. The continued operation of the tractor and the fact that there was a
mysterious tower on the farm supposedly lent credibility to this belief. To imagine he was in concert with
the demon was not such a large leap of belief.

The tower stood taller than any building in the area, nearly three times the height of their silo. Thick glass
surrounded its topmost section. The tower was so hard that not even a nail could scratch it. There was a
ladder on one side and, by climbing it, Jacob could peer through the glass. He could see a bank of
instruments just beyond the glass and, once, he'd seen them flash red and green. Once he'd pressed his
ear close to the glass and heard a distant rumble, like the noise the tractor made before he put it in gear,
which made him wonder if there was a mighty engine buried inside. Or was it the snoring of the demon
who lay sleeping inside? Jacob never mentioned the flashing lights or the grumbling demon for fear his
father would suspect him of meddling. Just as he tried to keep his fascination with the dead machines a
secret passion.

But all that had been years before, when he was a child. Now he was almost fully grown—soon to be a
man—and had to make a decision about being the tinker's apprentice after the harvest. But that was
later, after the harvest passed. Now he would be able to watch the magician repair a broken machine or
restore life to a dead building and, by watching him work, perhaps learn enough simple spells and magic
to free himself from ignorance.
****

Jacob's father was muttering to himself, but loud enough so that all could hear during the long ride home.
“Put them in the barn, damn meddlers.” Too many draughts from the keg slurred his words. “Should have
said no. Nothing but trouble they'll be.”

Jacob's mother softly corrected him. “They'll sleep in the house like proper guests, George. We'll not
treat them otherwise. Pam and Evangeline can double up, and Jacob can sleep in the loft. Yes, we'll put
the men in Jacob's room and the girl can sleep in Evangeline's room.”

“Why can't she use Pam's,” Ev pouted. She knew who would have a pallet on the floor for a mattress.
But there was no arguing with mother once she decided. Even his father knuckled under to her decision