Книга только для ознакомления
. "But you
believe you are ready, don't you, Raistlin?"
Raistlin had kept his eyes lowered, in the proper show of
humility, his hood drawn over his face. Suddenly, he threw back
his hood and lifted his head, staring directly, proudly, at Par-
Salian. "I am ready. Great One," Raistlin spoke coolly.
Par-Salian nodded, his eyes glittering. "Begin your journey in
three months' time," the old man said, then went back to eating his
fish.
Raistlin's master gave him a furious glance, rebuking him for
his impudence. Par-Salian did not look at him again. The young
conjurer bowed and left without a word.
The servant let him out; however, Raistlin slipped back through
the unlocked door, cast a sleep spell upon the servant, and stood,
hidden in the alcove, listening to the conversation between his
master and Par-Salian.
"The Order has never tested one so young," the master said.
"And you chose him! Of all my pupils, he is the most unworthy. I
simply do not understand."
"You don't like him, do you?" Par-Salian asked mildly.
"No one does," the master snapped. "There is no compassion in
him, no humanity. He is greedy and grasping, difficult to trust. Did
you know that his nickname among the other students is the Sly
One? He absorbs from everyone's soul and gives back nothing of
his own. His eyes are mirrors; they reflect all he sees in cold,
brittle terms."
"He is highly intelligent," Par-Salian suggested
|
