JК
Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 67 из 148The bones looked like the jumbled-togetherremains of fish, snakes, and things that normally didn’t have skeletons in the oceans of mortal earth. Things that looked like squid, except that squid did not have internal skeletons.
We were halfway around that narrow, bone-studded shore when the air wavered on its far side next to the door. For a moment the air swam, and then Sholto, King of the Sluagh, Lord of That Which Passes Between, was standing there.
CHAPTER 10
SHOLTO WAS TALL, MUSCLED, HANDSOME, AND LOOKED EVERY bit a highborn sidhe of the Seelie Court. His long hair was even a pale yellow, like winter sunshine with an edge of snow to it. His arm was in a sling, and as he turned his head to the light, a faint darkness — like a stain of bruises — touched his face. Kitto had said Sholto’s own court had attacked him. They were afraid that bedding me would make Sholto completely sidhe and no longer sluagh enough to be their king.
Four robed figures stood behind him. They fanned out, some toward the golden door, some toward us. Doyle said, “King Sholto, we are not here of our own choice. We ask forgiveness for entering your kingdom uninvited.”
I would have dropped to my knees, if there had been room, but the crumbling edge of black earth was only inches from my feet, and my back was plastered against the stone wall. There was no room for niceties on this path. There was also precious little room for the guards to fight — if they attacked us now, we were going to lose.
A blade glimmered from the edge of one of the shorter cloaked guards as he spoke. “You are nude and nearly weaponless: Only something desperate would bring you here like this, with the princess in tow.”
“It is the beginning of their invasion,” came a female voice from one of the tallest guards. I knew that voice. It was Black Agnes, Sholto’s chief bodyguard, and chief among his lovers at this court. She had tried to kill me once before for jealousy’s sake.
Sholto turned enough to look at her. The movement revealed that wide, pale bandages were all he was wearing on his upper body. Whatever they covered must have been a terrible wound.
“Enough, Agnes, enough!” Sholto silenced her, rumbling echoes around the cavern.
The black-robed figure of Agnes that loomed over him glanced at me. I had a moment to see the gleam of her eyes in the dark ugliness of her face. The night-hags were ugly; it was part of what they were.
One of the shorter, robed guards leaned into Sholto, as if whispering, but the echoes that hissed along the cave walls were not human speech.
We were halfway around that narrow, bone-studded shore when the air wavered on its far side next to the door. For a moment the air swam, and then Sholto, King of the Sluagh, Lord of That Which Passes Between, was standing there.
CHAPTER 10
SHOLTO WAS TALL, MUSCLED, HANDSOME, AND LOOKED EVERY bit a highborn sidhe of the Seelie Court. His long hair was even a pale yellow, like winter sunshine with an edge of snow to it. His arm was in a sling, and as he turned his head to the light, a faint darkness — like a stain of bruises — touched his face. Kitto had said Sholto’s own court had attacked him. They were afraid that bedding me would make Sholto completely sidhe and no longer sluagh enough to be their king.
Four robed figures stood behind him. They fanned out, some toward the golden door, some toward us. Doyle said, “King Sholto, we are not here of our own choice. We ask forgiveness for entering your kingdom uninvited.”
I would have dropped to my knees, if there had been room, but the crumbling edge of black earth was only inches from my feet, and my back was plastered against the stone wall. There was no room for niceties on this path. There was also precious little room for the guards to fight — if they attacked us now, we were going to lose.
A blade glimmered from the edge of one of the shorter cloaked guards as he spoke. “You are nude and nearly weaponless: Only something desperate would bring you here like this, with the princess in tow.”
“It is the beginning of their invasion,” came a female voice from one of the tallest guards. I knew that voice. It was Black Agnes, Sholto’s chief bodyguard, and chief among his lovers at this court. She had tried to kill me once before for jealousy’s sake.
Sholto turned enough to look at her. The movement revealed that wide, pale bandages were all he was wearing on his upper body. Whatever they covered must have been a terrible wound.
“Enough, Agnes, enough!” Sholto silenced her, rumbling echoes around the cavern.
The black-robed figure of Agnes that loomed over him glanced at me. I had a moment to see the gleam of her eyes in the dark ugliness of her face. The night-hags were ugly; it was part of what they were.
One of the shorter, robed guards leaned into Sholto, as if whispering, but the echoes that hissed along the cave walls were not human speech.