JК
The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 94 из 216I suppose that after yourlast few days at the jordaini complex, you would be happy to go almost anywhere else."
"I'm not sure I understand."
A flicker of pity crossed the girl's face. "I followed you back to the school, as I said I would. I witnessed that so-called rite of purification."
"I was late to come," he said shortly. "But in the time allotted me, I had much to contemplate."
"Contemplate?" she echoed incredulously. "Is that what you call what I saw?"
Matteo shrugged. "Granted, it probably was not much to watch. Observing the growth of crops would be as exciting as watching jordaini in solitary contemplation. Though I do not complain. I arrived late, but the two days I spent in thought were most enlightening."
Tzigone's eyes lit with understanding. "And as far as you know, that's the extent of this rite."
"The ritual of purification is a time of solitary contemplation," Matteo said, puzzled by her reaction. "Mine was shortened, but I made what use of it I could."
For some reason she found that comment amusing. "No offense, Matteo, but that's something I'd expect one of your less fortunate comrades to say."
"I don't understand," he repeated.
"Someday you might. When that day comes, be sure to tell me if you consider my debt paid. After talking to you, I think it might be."
With that cryptic comment, she disappeared into the night, leaving Matteo staring after her in puzzlement.
Chapter Ten
Kiva enjoyed a few quiet days in her retreat outside of Zalasuu, but she was just as happy to see this time draw to a close. She had spent a very long time preparing for the assault upon Akhlaur, and today she expected to make more progress than she had in a decade.
The villa was well outside the walls of the city. Small but luxurious, it was surrounded by deep forests and warded by virtually impenetrable magical wards.
That morning the magehound broke her fast with tea and fruit on the piazza, a tiled courtyard encircled by gardens. An elaborate iron trellis curved over the breakfast table, providing shade and lending support for the profusion of grapevines that entwined it. Bunches of grapes, some yellow and some a soft, sunrise pink, hung in fragrant clusters overhead. The morning rain had come before dawn with a sudden bursting of clouds, and moisture still hung thick in the air.
"I'm not sure I understand."
A flicker of pity crossed the girl's face. "I followed you back to the school, as I said I would. I witnessed that so-called rite of purification."
"I was late to come," he said shortly. "But in the time allotted me, I had much to contemplate."
"Contemplate?" she echoed incredulously. "Is that what you call what I saw?"
Matteo shrugged. "Granted, it probably was not much to watch. Observing the growth of crops would be as exciting as watching jordaini in solitary contemplation. Though I do not complain. I arrived late, but the two days I spent in thought were most enlightening."
Tzigone's eyes lit with understanding. "And as far as you know, that's the extent of this rite."
"The ritual of purification is a time of solitary contemplation," Matteo said, puzzled by her reaction. "Mine was shortened, but I made what use of it I could."
For some reason she found that comment amusing. "No offense, Matteo, but that's something I'd expect one of your less fortunate comrades to say."
"I don't understand," he repeated.
"Someday you might. When that day comes, be sure to tell me if you consider my debt paid. After talking to you, I think it might be."
With that cryptic comment, she disappeared into the night, leaving Matteo staring after her in puzzlement.
Chapter Ten
Kiva enjoyed a few quiet days in her retreat outside of Zalasuu, but she was just as happy to see this time draw to a close. She had spent a very long time preparing for the assault upon Akhlaur, and today she expected to make more progress than she had in a decade.
The villa was well outside the walls of the city. Small but luxurious, it was surrounded by deep forests and warded by virtually impenetrable magical wards.
That morning the magehound broke her fast with tea and fruit on the piazza, a tiled courtyard encircled by gardens. An elaborate iron trellis curved over the breakfast table, providing shade and lending support for the profusion of grapevines that entwined it. Bunches of grapes, some yellow and some a soft, sunrise pink, hung in fragrant clusters overhead. The morning rain had come before dawn with a sudden bursting of clouds, and moisture still hung thick in the air.