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A Caress Of Twilight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 225 из 236"
I held on to his arm tighter. "What do you mean, skilled enough?"
"Skilled enough not to get killed doing it," Rhys said.
Both Frost and Doyle gave him unfriendly looks. "Look, we don't have time to play around here. One of us with a weapon of power and enough skill to do it has to draw blood," Rhys said.
I kept my grip on Frost's arm but looked at Doyle. "Who's on the list of skilled enough?"
"Now that's just insulting," Rhys said. "Doyle and Frost aren't the only people standing here."
They gave him another unfriendly look.
"I was never the queen's favorite guard, but once I was favored in battle."
Galen said, "I'm like Merry. I came along after all the old times. I've got good blades, but none of them are weapons of power."
"Because we lost the knack of making such things," Frost said.
"We have become more flesh and less pure spirit with every casting. It has allowed us to survive, even to thrive, but it has not been without cost."
I slid in against Frost's body and found his sword, Winter Kiss, in our way. How apt. I looked at the other men. Frost was the only one in a tunic. Everyone else was wearing street clothes, T-shirts, jeans, boots, except for Kitto, who had thrown a shirt on over his shorts. The clothes were wrong, but the weapons were right.
Frost had a second sword strapped to his back, a sword almost longer than I was tall. I knew the tunic covered more blades. He always carried some blade somewhere on him, unless the Queen had forbidden it.
Doyle had kept his gun in its shoulder holster, but he'd added a sword at his hip and wrist sheaths on both arms. The knives glinted silver against his dark skin, but the sword was as black as he was. The blade was iron, not steel. I'd never known what the black handle was made of; it was metal, but what kind of metal I did not know. The sword was called Black Madness, Bainidhe Dub. If anyone other than Doyle tried to wield it, they would be struck permanently mad. The daggers on his wrists were twins, formed together at one making. These legendary blades were thought to hit any target once thrown. Their nicknames at court had been Snick and Snack. I knew they had true names, but I'd never heard them referred to as anything else.
Galen had a sword belted at his side, and it was a good sword but not magical, not in the way of the great weapons. He had a dagger on the other side of his belt to balance the sword. He'd added a shoulder holster and gun over his button-down shirt, and a second gun tucked in the small of his back.
I held on to his arm tighter. "What do you mean, skilled enough?"
"Skilled enough not to get killed doing it," Rhys said.
Both Frost and Doyle gave him unfriendly looks. "Look, we don't have time to play around here. One of us with a weapon of power and enough skill to do it has to draw blood," Rhys said.
I kept my grip on Frost's arm but looked at Doyle. "Who's on the list of skilled enough?"
"Now that's just insulting," Rhys said. "Doyle and Frost aren't the only people standing here."
They gave him another unfriendly look.
"I was never the queen's favorite guard, but once I was favored in battle."
Galen said, "I'm like Merry. I came along after all the old times. I've got good blades, but none of them are weapons of power."
"Because we lost the knack of making such things," Frost said.
"We have become more flesh and less pure spirit with every casting. It has allowed us to survive, even to thrive, but it has not been without cost."
I slid in against Frost's body and found his sword, Winter Kiss, in our way. How apt. I looked at the other men. Frost was the only one in a tunic. Everyone else was wearing street clothes, T-shirts, jeans, boots, except for Kitto, who had thrown a shirt on over his shorts. The clothes were wrong, but the weapons were right.
Frost had a second sword strapped to his back, a sword almost longer than I was tall. I knew the tunic covered more blades. He always carried some blade somewhere on him, unless the Queen had forbidden it.
Doyle had kept his gun in its shoulder holster, but he'd added a sword at his hip and wrist sheaths on both arms. The knives glinted silver against his dark skin, but the sword was as black as he was. The blade was iron, not steel. I'd never known what the black handle was made of; it was metal, but what kind of metal I did not know. The sword was called Black Madness, Bainidhe Dub. If anyone other than Doyle tried to wield it, they would be struck permanently mad. The daggers on his wrists were twins, formed together at one making. These legendary blades were thought to hit any target once thrown. Their nicknames at court had been Snick and Snack. I knew they had true names, but I'd never heard them referred to as anything else.
Galen had a sword belted at his side, and it was a good sword but not magical, not in the way of the great weapons. He had a dagger on the other side of his belt to balance the sword. He'd added a shoulder holster and gun over his button-down shirt, and a second gun tucked in the small of his back.