The Shadowmagic Trilogy. John Lenahan
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Название: The Shadowmagic Trilogy

Автор: John Lenahan

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Героическая фантастика

Серия:

isbn: 9780007569823

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ sitting in my stomach like a rock. I had a scary moment when I thought I was going to see it again. I cursed Dahy for cooking it and then I cursed him again for devising a plan that put me in here and allowed him (along with Gerard) to sit comfortably up front. Every bump jarred me like an ice cube in a cocktail shaker, and with every one of those bumps I knocked my head into the side of the barrel. At one point we went over a rock that was so big I hit my head on the lid, and howled. Fergal was in the barrel next to me. ‘Shut up,’ he said, ‘I’m trying to get some sleep.’

      ‘Sleep!’ I shouted over. ‘How can you sleep when your head is being bounced around like a pinball?’

      ‘What’s a pinball?’

      ‘Never mind.’

      ‘Put the blanket next to your head,’ he said, ‘then it’s not so bad.’

      ‘I don’t have a blanket.’

      ‘You are travelling three hours in a barrel and you didn’t bring a cushion? I thought you were smart. Didn’t you say you went to a place of learning in the Real World?’

      ‘They didn’t have any courses on how to sneak into castles,’ I said.

      ‘Doesn’t sound like a very good school to me. Now will you please keep the groaning down.’

      I suffered in silence. I actually started wishing the cart would drive over a huge boulder that would knock me out. Another concussion would have been a small price to pay, if it made the journey quicker.

      Gerard had no trouble getting in to the castle. A delivery of the Vinelands’ finest was a cause for celebration.

      Cialtie met the wagon himself. ‘Lord Gerard,’ he said. The second I heard that voice all of the hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I stopped breathing. I was instantly terrified, but at the same time I had to overcome the urge to pop out like a deranged jack-in-the-box and chop his head off. ‘I hope this shipment,’ Cialtie continued, ‘is better than the vinegar you sent me last time.’

      ‘I am so sorry, Lord Cialtie, that you found my last batch not to your liking,’ Gerard oozed. ‘I assure you this is the finest of vintages.’

      ‘I should hope so,’ Cialtie said.

      I had plenty of reasons for hating my uncle, but the disrespectful way he talked to Gerard made me want to throttle him – after I decapitated him.

      ‘Your daughter is not with you.’

      ‘No, my lord.’

      ‘Why not? You know I wanted to meet her.’

      ‘It is a very busy time in the fermentation cycle. I needed her to supervise the winemaking in my absence. I’m sure she is up to her neck in a barrel of wine as we speak.’

      I had to put my hand over my mouth to stop from laughing out loud. You had to love this guy.

      ‘Lord Cialtie,’ Gerard said, putting on a serious tone, ‘may I ask you why you have an entire army on patrol? Is there something amiss that I should know about?’

      ‘What are you talking about? I have no army on patrol.’

      ‘Oh my,’ Gerard said in a fey aristocratic tone that was definitely not him. It made me smile. ‘Then I think you should know that there is one on the way.’

      ‘What? How do you know this?’

      ‘Oh, I have a very good Elvish spyglass, they use gold in the optics you know. I saw them yesterday. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. I’d say they were only half a day away.’

      Gerard hadn’t turned traitor – this was part of the plan. Lorcan and Dad figured that if Cialtie thought he was under attack from the outside, he wouldn’t be guarding the inside all that well. It seemed to work.

      Cialtie instantly sprang into action, shouting orders. ‘Put the wall fortifications on alert,’ he yelled, ‘and send out a scouting party to find out what he is talking about. Gerard and Dahy, come with me.’

      ‘Of course, my lord, if I can be of any help, but I would ask if Master Dahy could supervise the stowing of the wine. It is a delicate vintage and I wouldn’t want to see it bruised.’

      ‘Very well. You two help him,’ Cialtie grumbled.

      I heard them leave and then the wagon began to move. We travelled a way over cobbled streets. I had a childish urge to sing just so I could hear my voice vibrate. We stopped for the opening of large doors and then turned left. I could tell by the sound that we were inside.

      ‘Close those doors, you idiots! You are letting the cool air out,’ I heard Dahy bark – then I heard two bangs, two short grunts, followed by the unmistakable sound of bodies hitting the ground.

      Fresh air! The things you take for granted. I stood up, breathing deeply and stretching, while everyone else went to work.

      Dahy crawled under the wagon and brought out the weapons. Araf and Fergal went about stealing the two guards’ uniforms. The shocking bit was when Mom, Nieve and Essa started tarting themselves up. They unbuttoned their shirts and pushed up their cleavages. Essa and Mom put on skirts with revealing slits in them while Nieve started ripping one in hers.

      Essa caught me staring. ‘What are you looking at?’ she snapped.

      ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘We are blending in,’ Mom said, giving me a practice provocative smile. ‘Women of, how shall I say, dubious virtue are common in Castle Duir these days.’

      ‘Well,’ I said to Essa, ‘you look – great.’

      She didn’t return the compliment with a provocative look. It was more like an evil eye.

      ‘Conor,’ Dad said, ‘stop gawping at the women and help Dahy and me stow the barrels.’

      Dad was being his thorough self. They might not miss the guards, but if someone saw that the wine was still on the wagon, they might know something was up. I promised myself that I would have a word with Gerard about putting his wine in smaller barrels. Man, they were heavy.

      When we were finished, Dahy said, ‘I will stable the horse and then rejoin Gerard. Good luck.’ We hid behind the door as he left.

      Mom gave the naked guards a dose of Shadowmagic that would ensure they slept the rest of the day, and then Dad lined us up for an inspection. People like the women, Dad and me were commonplace in the castle, so we wouldn’t raise too much suspicion. Fergal looked just like the Banshee guard he had stolen the uniform from, but Araf was a problem. Imps were not very welcome in the castle and the guard uniform could not disguise the mop of sandy hair on his head – he stood out like a sore thumb. That’s when Mom pulled out the wig.

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