Книга только для ознакомления
. The clearing sloped
upward to a stairway carved out of the stone of the
mountain. Set into the cliff face at the top of the stairs was a
pair of huge stone doors. Goldmoon sat motionless on her
horse for several minutes, just gazing at those doors.
Beyond them, she knew, lay her ancestors who were now
gods and goddesses. But most special to Goldmoon was her
mother, Tearsong.
Goldmoon remembered her mother alive, laughing and
beautiful. She also remembered her ill and dying. And she
remembered her dead, encased in the sarcophagus which
held her remains until the doors above had opened ten years
ago, allowing Arrowthorn to entomb them at last. The
princess's dearest and most secret wish was to see her
mother again, as a goddess, laughing and beautiful.
A touch on her forearm made Goldmoon turn. Silently,
Riverwind made a gesture toward the plains they had
crossed. Far below, the sun was setting on the golden fields,
painting them a rosy-purple hue. She could pick out a
hundred hawks rising on late afternoon thermals, sighting
prey, and swooping down on their dinners. Farther off,
barely visible, were the thin wisps of smoke which she
knew came from her father's village. "It's beautiful," she
whispered
|
