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The Wizardwar :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 147 из 208"Shall I take that as a compliment?"
"You can take it to hell and back, forall I care," Tzigone told him. "In the meanwhile, keep out of my way."
The ghostly jordain bowed and walked quietly away. Matteo started after him, then decided his friend would prefer solitude.
"You're wrong about Andris," he told her softly. "He is a good man, with perhaps too strong a sense of his destiny."
"Maybe." She tucked her arm through his and sent him a crooked smile. "You do have an annoying habit of being right."
"I have an annoying habit of being blind," Matteo said.
Tzigone pulled away and propped her fists on her hips. "You want to repeat that for people who don't speak jordaini?"
"Andris was right-those who pass the veil see themselves as never before. I didn't realize how large a part pride played in my life. Now I see it at every turn, and it is not an attractive sight."
"You're proud," she agreed, "and that's like saying Sinestra Belajoon, one of the most beautiful women in Halruaa, is vain. The way I see it, you're both entitled."
"Pride directs the focus inward. I look to Halruaan lore for answers. You are much more flexible than I. Without your quick thinking, we might not have fought our way through the dark fairies."
Her eyes went wide. "Who showed me how to recover memories? That came in very handy. Who was it who told me I was a wizard and urged me to learn about my magic?"
Matteo sighed. "You would have found your way to these things in time."
"I'll bet you tell a corpse the same thing. 'Don't worry about this minor defeat, my good fellow-I'm sure you would have picked up that sword sooner or later.'" She gave a wickedly precise imitation of Matteo's speech. "Would it salve your jordaini pride if I played the part of a swooning maiden?" she asked in her own voice.
The image was so ludicrous that Matteo couldn't help but smile. "It might."
"Well, forget it. Now that we're back, what are you? Still a jordain?"
He considered that. The sharp contrast between the shadowy plane and the world he knew had muted his perception. The ability to see magic had faded, yet there was something....
"I suppose that depends upon your definition," he said.
"Jordain," she recited helpfully. "A prissy, arrogant know-it-all who can drone on about any subject at all until his listeners start bleeding from both ears. Someone who couldn't bend a law in a gale. An old maid who only knows enough about fun to keep me from having any."
Matteo's lips quirked. "That does sound familiar," he agreed.
Tzigone nodded and returned to his arms.
"You can take it to hell and back, forall I care," Tzigone told him. "In the meanwhile, keep out of my way."
The ghostly jordain bowed and walked quietly away. Matteo started after him, then decided his friend would prefer solitude.
"You're wrong about Andris," he told her softly. "He is a good man, with perhaps too strong a sense of his destiny."
"Maybe." She tucked her arm through his and sent him a crooked smile. "You do have an annoying habit of being right."
"I have an annoying habit of being blind," Matteo said.
Tzigone pulled away and propped her fists on her hips. "You want to repeat that for people who don't speak jordaini?"
"Andris was right-those who pass the veil see themselves as never before. I didn't realize how large a part pride played in my life. Now I see it at every turn, and it is not an attractive sight."
"You're proud," she agreed, "and that's like saying Sinestra Belajoon, one of the most beautiful women in Halruaa, is vain. The way I see it, you're both entitled."
"Pride directs the focus inward. I look to Halruaan lore for answers. You are much more flexible than I. Without your quick thinking, we might not have fought our way through the dark fairies."
Her eyes went wide. "Who showed me how to recover memories? That came in very handy. Who was it who told me I was a wizard and urged me to learn about my magic?"
Matteo sighed. "You would have found your way to these things in time."
"I'll bet you tell a corpse the same thing. 'Don't worry about this minor defeat, my good fellow-I'm sure you would have picked up that sword sooner or later.'" She gave a wickedly precise imitation of Matteo's speech. "Would it salve your jordaini pride if I played the part of a swooning maiden?" she asked in her own voice.
The image was so ludicrous that Matteo couldn't help but smile. "It might."
"Well, forget it. Now that we're back, what are you? Still a jordain?"
He considered that. The sharp contrast between the shadowy plane and the world he knew had muted his perception. The ability to see magic had faded, yet there was something....
"I suppose that depends upon your definition," he said.
"Jordain," she recited helpfully. "A prissy, arrogant know-it-all who can drone on about any subject at all until his listeners start bleeding from both ears. Someone who couldn't bend a law in a gale. An old maid who only knows enough about fun to keep me from having any."
Matteo's lips quirked. "That does sound familiar," he agreed.
Tzigone nodded and returned to his arms.