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

smashed through the side of the stable. There was a crash of timber and a storm of falling hay as the
harvester continued to grind forward, crushing all before it. Bales of hay tumbled from the loft on either
side, sacks of feed hit the ground and split open, and the two horses suddenly freed from their stalls
bolted and ran, terrified, through the town.

Onward the harvester pressed, crushing two wagons under its massive tracks, until it came to rest
against the stables’ opposite wall, which teetered precipitously, creaked, leaned, and then fell to earth
with a roar of splintering wood. When Jacob climbed down from the cab the entire building was nothing
more than a jumbled heap of lumber and assorted debris.

“Thank God you're safe,” the first person to arrive said when he saw Jacob climbing from the wreckage.
“What happened?”

“I don't know,” Jacob lied quickly. “I was feeding one of the horses when...” he stopped. The man was
staring at the object in Jacob's hand. It was the key to the harvester.

The destruction of the old stable was a serious matter, but this was of less importance to most of the folk
than the fact that it had been the red-headed Jacob who had managed to bring the machine to brief, if
destructive, life.

“For certain,” everyone whispered, “he does have magician's blood.” Then they would smile, as if his
actions had confirmed their worse suspicions. The resurgence of this cut his mother deeply, although she
tried not to show it in public. His father glowered when he heard of this and perhaps that fueled the anger
that warmed Jacob's seat for his part in the demolition.

The pain he had caused his parents was partially offset by the reaction of the other kids. Every youngster
in town rushed out to jiggle the keys and switches of the dead machines in hopes of repeating Jacob's
actions. He became a hero of sorts, at least for a few weeks.

Jacob stopped speaking. Why had he told her about that episode? As usual, his mouth had moved faster
than his brain.

Tash closed her eyes. Without warning she spit out a series of words; “Seek, unknown, problem, logic,
number.” With each word her facial expression changed, quite at odds with the words that continued to
roll so quickly off her tongue.

Jacob became confused by the torrent of words pouring from her lovely lips, so close to his ear. He
tried to figure out why she was spewing such nonsense, but, before he could concentrate on one word,
she had said another, and another. “Basic, failure, inside, twisted, puzzle.” On and on they came until
Jacob's mind was swirling in confusion.

Finally the torrent of unrelated words stopped. Tash opened her eyes and turned her head so she could
look straight into his eyes. “Tash,” she said simply. Then her face bloomed with a smile so bright that he
felt as if the sun itself had suddenly blazed through the clouds, bathing him in its radiance.

He couldn't help but smile in return.

“Sorry,” she said and her smile quickly faded. “That last was pretty unprofessional.”

Jacob had no idea of what she was talking about. “Never mind,” she continued as she took his arm and