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The Floodgate :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 73 из 212Basel had a dark secret or two-she'd gone to considerable trouble to ferret them out-but who didn't?
"Lord Basel, can you tell me of a wizard named Keturah?"
His face went rigid with some incomprehensible emotion. His eyes dropped, and he cleared his throat. When he lifted his gaze to her again, he was composed and faintly smiling. Tzigone marked the effort this had cost him, and wondered.
"Where did you hear that name, child?"
"Akhlaur's Swamp. They said that Keturah was skilled in evocation. They compared me to her." That was true, as far as it went. Tzigone elbowed her protesting conscience into silence and kept her gaze steady on Basel's shrewd face.
"Who was this 'they' you speak of?"
She responded with a shrug and a vague, milling gesture of her hands. "You know. Them."
"Tzigone." His voice was uncharacteristically stern.
"Kiva, the elf magehound."
"Ah." Basel exhaled the word on a sigh. "Well, that follows. What else did this Kiva tell you?"
"Not a thing. Unless tossing fireballs counts as conversation, we didn't exactly chat."
"I see. So from whom did you hear this name?"
The wizard's persistence puzzled her. "Andris, the jordain who has lived through the laraken's magic drain."
"Ah, yes. That tale created quite a stir." Basel propped his elbows on the table and laced his plump fingers together. "Fascinating story. A jordain shows no sign of latent magical talent, yet magic-echoes of some distant elf ancestor-lies dormant within. The Jordaini Council debated whether Andris possessed magic or not, was a false jordain or true. Nor are they alone. A wizard cannot leave his own privy without encountering a philosophical debate on the nature of magic and life. The Azuthans won't solve that puzzle, but I'm eager to read their reports concerning this Andris.
"Back to the subject at hand," Basel concluded. "If I may ask, what is your interest in Keturah?"
Tzigone gestured to the portraits that ringed the room, an ever-present circle of Indoulur ancestors. "You come from a long line of conjurers. I have no family. No one can say, 'Don't worry, your sister had a hard time with that spell, too. You've said yourself that my magical talents are puzzling. Maybe talking to someone who's even a little bit like me will help."
Basel leaned back and gazed at some distant point, as if he were studying one of the portraits on the far wall and measuring the worth of kith and lineage.
"Lord Basel, can you tell me of a wizard named Keturah?"
His face went rigid with some incomprehensible emotion. His eyes dropped, and he cleared his throat. When he lifted his gaze to her again, he was composed and faintly smiling. Tzigone marked the effort this had cost him, and wondered.
"Where did you hear that name, child?"
"Akhlaur's Swamp. They said that Keturah was skilled in evocation. They compared me to her." That was true, as far as it went. Tzigone elbowed her protesting conscience into silence and kept her gaze steady on Basel's shrewd face.
"Who was this 'they' you speak of?"
She responded with a shrug and a vague, milling gesture of her hands. "You know. Them."
"Tzigone." His voice was uncharacteristically stern.
"Kiva, the elf magehound."
"Ah." Basel exhaled the word on a sigh. "Well, that follows. What else did this Kiva tell you?"
"Not a thing. Unless tossing fireballs counts as conversation, we didn't exactly chat."
"I see. So from whom did you hear this name?"
The wizard's persistence puzzled her. "Andris, the jordain who has lived through the laraken's magic drain."
"Ah, yes. That tale created quite a stir." Basel propped his elbows on the table and laced his plump fingers together. "Fascinating story. A jordain shows no sign of latent magical talent, yet magic-echoes of some distant elf ancestor-lies dormant within. The Jordaini Council debated whether Andris possessed magic or not, was a false jordain or true. Nor are they alone. A wizard cannot leave his own privy without encountering a philosophical debate on the nature of magic and life. The Azuthans won't solve that puzzle, but I'm eager to read their reports concerning this Andris.
"Back to the subject at hand," Basel concluded. "If I may ask, what is your interest in Keturah?"
Tzigone gestured to the portraits that ringed the room, an ever-present circle of Indoulur ancestors. "You come from a long line of conjurers. I have no family. No one can say, 'Don't worry, your sister had a hard time with that spell, too. You've said yourself that my magical talents are puzzling. Maybe talking to someone who's even a little bit like me will help."
Basel leaned back and gazed at some distant point, as if he were studying one of the portraits on the far wall and measuring the worth of kith and lineage.