"Christopher Stasheff - Warlock 13 - Warlock's Last Ride" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stasheff Christopher)

bundle that emitted a gurgle.

Gwen held up her arms, suddenly vital again. "Give me!"

The midwife came and laid the blanket in her arms. Gwen cradled it and beamed down, her whole
face lighting up with an intensity of pleasure and wonder that almost scared Rod. Tentatively, he
reached out to open the blanket in the crook of her elbow a little wider—and looked down himself at the
dark-haired, wrinkled, pink-and-red little face with the eyes solemnly shut. He marvelled at the wise,
even profound expression and wondered all over again what wisdom souls forsake in order to be born, in
that bright world from which new souls come.

Then he looked up at his wife and was awed all over again by the look of near-adoration and
exaltation that suffused her face. Could it be that the baby alone would keep her alive?

"Now I have lived most truly and completely," Gwen said softly. "What greater joy could life hold
for me than this?"

Rod hoped it was his imagination that gave the words a very final ring.

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FINALLY A DOT of light in the dome of the bridge grew brighter than all the others, finally it
swelled into a little circle, and Alea knew they were coming home—at least, to Magnus's home; she
doubted it could ever be hers, or would need to be. As the disk swelled, Magnus grew even more tense;
he began to snap at her if she said the wrong thing. She managed to stifle the retorts that rose to her lips,
telling herself that he would be able to relax when the trauma of his homecoming was over, that he
would be sorry for the things he had said. She throttled her anger at his not even seeming to notice her,
so preoccupied was he with meeting the family he had left ten years before, and though she adamantly
resisted the temptation to read his mind, she could tell his thoughts anyway: How would they have
changed, the family he had deserted? How betrayed had they felt by his leaving? Was there still any
welcome there for him, any love? He had told her many times that "You can't go home again," and she
had believed him—so what must it be like for him now, coming back when he knew that the home he
remembered was lost in the mists of the past?

Then, in the perpetual evening gloom of the lounge, Magnus looked up at her, his eyes suddenly
focusing on her, and warned, "Gregory says we're clear to land—on the night side, of course, so that we
won't frighten the peasants."

"Our usual approach." Alea dared to try a smile.

Magnus stared at her a moment, then smiled in return with a warmth that surprized her and reached
out to catch her hand, and something melted within her.

Then he let go and turned his eyes forward to the viewscreen where the huge cloud-streaked disk
floated, and advised her, "Better web in."

The arm of the lounge chair popped open, the anchor rod rising up. Alea pulled it across her body