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Название книги: The Last Tower
Автор(ы): Carolyn Cherry
Жанр: Фэнтези
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Last-Tower-192626.html
The old man climbed the stairs slowly, stopping sometimes to let his heart
recover and the teapot settle on the tray, while the dormouse would pop out of
his sleeve or his beard and steal a nibble at the teacakes he brought up from
the kitchen. It was an old tower on the edge of faery, on the edge of the
Empire of Man. Between. Uncertain who had built it — men or elves. It was long
before the old man’s time, at least, and before the empire in the east. There
was magic in its making… so they used to say. Now there was only the old man
and the dormouse and a sleepy hedgehog, and a bird or two or three, which came
for the grain at the windows. That was his real talent, the wild things, the
gentle things. A real magician now, would not be making tea himself, in the
kitchen, and wasting his breath on stairs. A real magician would have been more — awesome. Kept some state. Inspired some fear.He stopped at the halfway turning. Pushed his sliding spectacles up his nose
and balanced tray, tea, cakes and dormouse against
Название книги: The Last Tower
Автор(ы): Carolyn Cherry
Жанр: Фэнтези
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Last-Tower-192626.html
The old man climbed the stairs slowly, stopping sometimes to let his heart
recover and the teapot settle on the tray, while the dormouse would pop out of
his sleeve or his beard and steal a nibble at the teacakes he brought up from
the kitchen. It was an old tower on the edge of faery, on the edge of the
Empire of Man. Between. Uncertain who had built it — men or elves. It was long
before the old man’s time, at least, and before the empire in the east. There
was magic in its making… so they used to say. Now there was only the old man
and the dormouse and a sleepy hedgehog, and a bird or two or three, which came
for the grain at the windows. That was his real talent, the wild things, the
gentle things. A real magician now, would not be making tea himself, in the
kitchen, and wasting his breath on stairs. A real magician would have been more — awesome. Kept some state. Inspired some fear.He stopped at the halfway turning. Pushed his sliding spectacles up his nose
and balanced tray, tea, cakes and dormouse against
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