Dragon’s Empire – 4. Rose for dragon - Natalie Yacobson страница 9.

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«I dont play with fire, Vincent,» I explained strictly. «I myself create a flame and the prince should pray that one day it did not hit his head. I hesitated too long.»

«You think that becoming a deliverer of one victim, you will cross the entire black list of the prince. Be sure he will be replenished.»

«It is impossible! The ring remained with Rose and at the first opportunity I will destroy it. No ring means no shackles.»

«Rose? She is now visiting her cousin. I know for sure, I asked for reliable people.»

Vincent could not believe that for the first time, the reliable informants were not right.

«I was sure,» he shook his head and chestnut curls fell on his forehead. Over the past time, they have become a little longer and with the slightest movement climbed into the eyes, so Vincent constantly had to tidy his hair.

«You can not believe anyone, especially me,» I decided to mock at Vincent, but I said the pure truth. I was such a dangerous creation. Rose did the right thing that concerned to me with suspicion.

Vincent sighed with relief, realizing that I intend to carry a violin with me. I already hid it under the raincoat, trying not to pay attention to the scarlet drops from it.

«Edwin,» Vincent called me when I was already going to leave. He stood motionless, arms crossed on his chest, and peered at me for a long time and carefully, as if trying to determine if I would take seriously to what he would say. «You have no one refuge, but wherever you are, do not let anyone unfamiliar.»

I grinned, consider Vincent very naive. Did it really understand that unhappy was the one who would knock at my door. Whether this guest had good or evil intentions, the demon was waiting for him. If suddenly, the midnight killer would attack me, hoping to find a sacrifice, then for him it would be an unpleasant surprise to find himself unexpectedly in the dragons claws. So it was with everyone who attacked me. I turned my face to the attacker and, having met with me, he retreated in indescribable horror, understanding that it was too late, because all his fears were standing in front of him, embodied in one half an aristocratic, half demonic creature.

Coming out of the house, I turned around and noticed that the window frames, really, were scratched. I recently saw exactly the same traces of claws, just not in Lara, but very far from here, on the floor of the hut, lost in the forests dense.

Squeezing the violin under the arm, I walked around the dark city easily and naturally, as if a student of the Music faculty, just released on vacation. Inside me everything was strained as a string. I listened to every sound, every vibration of someones too free thoughts, but did not catch what I was afraid. No one in the city has thought about the uprising. Otherwise, I would immediately felt it, passing by any dark window, followed by conspirators in this minute, or even a couple of days ago. The dragon was harsh, but didnt kill citizens, did not deprive the title of famous noblemen, did not take the lions share of urban treasures, but only a small, almost symbolic annual tribute. It was equally for residents whom they would pay taxes to the dragon or to the king. In addition, the dragon rarely appeared in the local society. So that people could whisper on whether they were in the power of the dragon, but the golden clawed paw did not knock them at the window in the middle of the night. Fear did not fade, but did not ignite. They were already were used to me, to my rapid silent steps along the night pavement, to the house disappeared from the square, to the golden scope of the wings and a musical whistle in the transcendental altitude.

The violin of Debora was not heavier than the stack of books, but suddenly it began to pull out my hand. There was a cold sweat on my forehead, as if something frightened me. But what could frightened me? The very idea was absurd. What could cause me fear? Empty streets, dark windows, echo of my own steps or a quiet annoying rustle of the wings somewhere behind, in the alley or on the next street.

I carried the violin carelessly on the bending of the elbow, as a textbook and, I honestly, wanted to throw it into the first roadside ditch, so as not to hear more of these obsessive tramping or rustling sounds. From such an act I was stopped only by precaution. And suddenly, some tramp wanted to pick up the violin and it would be awaken an evil, sleeping somewhere far away in the burned sun and the desert fire.

There was no one in the street, there was no one in front of the square.. In altitude were no spirits or fairies nor angels. I was the only supernatural creature in the whole city, not counting Vincent. Probably he was right, all evil was in the violin. For the first time I had a feeling that someone flew after me. I returned to the castle and put the violin on the table in the music room.

I used to live alone and I did not need to hide anything. It was necessary to understand that Rose would be much more curious than her sculptural copy in niche. Among the whole collection of musical instruments, the violin would not be as noticeable, but on the table, the abandoned and wrapped with a bloody cloth it looked more than defiant.

«I didnt kill anyone,» I warned Rose, who entered the room.

In a new dress, Rose looked amazingly and somehow unnaturally. She was too beautiful to be alive, she seemed to be the original of the dark niche. It was simply the details that I did not notice: very long eyelashes, a pearl thread on the neck, and a wreath of roses in her hair.

Inaccessible Rose was here in the castle, although it seemed impossible before. I swore to myself that I would never part with her, as if fate would not be angry against us.

«Did you hurt?» She stepped closer, trying to consider the same bloody spots as on the taffeta and on my clothes.

«No,» I amazed, no one was worried about my health. «Blood is not mine.»

«And whose blood is it?»

«Its just a find, a gift of fate, you can even say a military trophy. It is a pity to throw it out, so I take it with me.»

«Do you know how to play on it?» Rose wanted to touch the strings, but changed her mind.

«If Ill want I can play,» this meant that magic would allow me to all that I wish. «I do not want, the passion for the music remained in the distant past.»

«In the distant past?» asked Rose with suspicion. She briefly peered into my face, trying to look for at least one wrinkle, but it was vain searches. She never dared to ask such an ordinary for people question «how old you are,» because she was afraid to hear the truth. I lost myself the count, it was too much happened since I was free from the peculiar training class of the prince. I remembered only the date of my birth and the fact that my life was cut off at twenty two years, but it was so long ago. So much has changed since then, and I remained the same. Perhaps Rose awaits the same thing, to remain like now and never change. She learns about it when she will be brave when she can understand without fear that only a full magician can go out unharmed from this fortress.

«Someone hated this thing much,» Rose pointed to scratches at the violin.

I grinned, remembering that Vincent had all the foundations for such hatred. He hated Debora, and did not hide it. He experienced hostility to all things that reminded him of her. How did these flaws appear on the instrument? Most likely Vincent wanted to destroy the subject that was so dear to Debora. Only it is easier to use claws against the violin than to heal the already applied scars on the skin. After examining Vincent, I could say that even a small revenge for him was preferable to inaction, but for some reason I wanted to check how it really was. I put my nails in the stripes of the deepest scratches and spent from the side to the side. I covered eyelids to focus. Back. In the past. What can I find there? Night. Forest. Shrill wolfs howl. Frost. Crisp snow under the feet. I sit in a hunting house and converse with the king, whom I saved in the morning, I look at his wounded hand. The bite of the wolf turned out to be very painful, the bandages were impregnated with blood. Is it worth thinking about how many people greeted these gray predators? Then I did not think about it, and Vincent had to. At this very time, he pressed his back to the tree trunk and tried to remove a large angry wolf from himself with help of a torch.

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