Shattered Dance. Caitlin Brennan
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Название: Shattered Dance
Автор: Caitlin Brennan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9781408976340
isbn:
Morag kept a careful eye on her daughter. Valeria, like most young things, suffered from delusions of invincibility. She was still recovering from a hard birth—harder than she or her otherwise perceptive lover seemed to understand.
If Morag had had any hope of being listened to, she would have kept Valeria in the wagon from the start. But Valeria was a rider. She had to ride—it was as vital to her as breathing. So, it seemed, was her insistence on riding the wildest of her three mounts.
God or no, the beast was being an idiot. Morag let him know it in no uncertain terms.
She was somewhat gratified that he deigned to notice. He still jigged and danced, but he stopped plunging and flinging himself about. After a while he settled even more, until he was walking more or less quietly, with only an occasional toss of the head or lash of the tail.
Valeria was still riding with that upright and beautiful carriage which distinguished the riders of the school, but Morag could see the subtle stiffness in her shoulders. Just as Morag decided to comment on it, Valeria swung her mount in toward the wagon and stepped from his back to the wagon’s bed.
It was prettily done. Morag acknowledged it with a sniff. Valeria was a little pale but otherwise well enough.
The tension left Morag’s own shoulders as Valeria made herself comfortable amid the bags and bundles that Morag had agreed to carry for the riders. The nurse, who was no fool, handed the baby over to her mother.
Valeria did not melt as some women did in the presence of their offspring. Her affection was a fiercer thing. She cradled the small blanket-wrapped body in her lap, head tilted slightly, and watched the child sleep.
Morag was growing drowsy herself. The wagon’s rocking and the clopping of hooves and the slowly rising warmth of the mountain summer were incitement to sleep.
She had little need to guide the mule. The caravan surrounded her with protections as strong as she could manage herself. It was full of mages, after all.
They were quiet about it, but they were on guard. Very little would get past them unless they let it. They had learned that lesson all too well.
Morag slid into a doze. She kept her awareness of the road and the caravan and the magic that surrounded it, but her consciousness slipped free.
It wandered for a while, drifting into Imbria and passing by her husband and children who were there. That was a pleasant dream, and it made her smile.
Gradually the dream darkened. It came on like a summer storm, a wall of cloud rolling in from the east. There was no clear vision in it, only formless darkness and the howl of wind.
A tower rose on a bleak hilltop like one of the old forgotten fortresses in her native Eriu. Wind and rain battered it. Lightning struck it and cast it down.
In the ruins where it had been, the earth opened like a mouth. The heart of it was nothingness.
That nothingness swallowed everything. Earth and sky vanished. There was nothing left but oblivion.
Valeria gulped air. In her dream there had been nothing to breathe, nothing to see, nothing at all except the Unmaking.
She lay in her nest of bundles and bags. Dappled sunlight shifted over her. Her daughter stirred in her arms.
She welcomed every bit of it—even the knot in her back and the whimper that turned to a wail as Grania woke to pangs of hunger. In Valeria’s dream, it had all gone. The Unmaking had taken everything.
She surrendered Grania to the nurse and sat up in the wagon bed, rocking with it as it descended a long slope.
From the driver’s seat, her mother looked over her shoulder. Morag’s green eyes were unusually dark.
“You saw, too,” Valeria said. The words slipped out of her, too quick to catch.
Morag’s nod was hardly more than a flicker of the eyelids.
“That’s not good,” Valeria said. “If it’s as strong as this, this close to the Mountain…”
“Maybe you should turn back,” said Morag.
“We can’t do that.”
“But if the Mountain can protect you—”
“Who will protect the empress?”
“Doesn’t she have every order of mages at her command?”
“Not against this.”
Morag turned on the bench, leaving the mule to find its own way. “What about the baby, then?”
Valeria’s glance leaped to the bundle in the nurse’s arms. Her face flushed. She had not thought that far at all.
“I’m not a good mother, am I?” she said. “I love her. I’d kill anyone who laid a hand on her. But there’s so much more to the world than that one thing.”
“There is,” Morag said in a tone that gave nothing away.
“She doesn’t come first,” Valeria said. “You knew it before I did.”
“I know you,” Morag said. “You’re not meant for the small and homely things.”
That was the truth. Valeria had not expected it to hurt quite so much. All the dreams she had had while she carried Grania, the things she had imagined that she would do, beginning with the simple human task of feeding her, had melted as soon as Grania saw the daylight. The agony of bearing her and the torment of the Unmaking had come too thoroughly between them.
Valeria shook her head, sharp and short. She was making excuses.
The truth was much simpler. Valeria was born this way. No amount of wishing could change her.
Grania had finished nursing. Portia’s eyes asked and her arms stretched out, offering her to Valeria.
Valeria shook her head again, just as sharp as before. She turned back to her mother. “Will you take her? Just until we see what’s happening in Aurelia?”
“That would be sensible,” Morag said. “Unless her father objects.”
“He won’t,” said Valeria. At least, she thought, not to that. He would agree that Grania was safer in Imbria than at the heart of whatever was coming. What he would say to Valeria’s making the decision without him…
She would face that when it came. They had the journey. She could still see him happy, delighting in his child. Before the clouds rolled in. Before the world’s weight was on them again, as sooner or later it always seemed to be.
Chapter Ten
Kerrec found his daughter fascinating and somewhat terrifying. She was so small and so utterly dependent on her elders, and yet the patterns that took shape around her promised to be as wide as the world.
Even more terrifying was what happened to his heart СКАЧАТЬ