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Фантастика и фэнтези
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Жанр не определен
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Драматургия
Фольклор
Военное дело
Slathbog's Gold - Forman Mark L - Страница 3
“Number seven?”
“And let’s see. We should put down unknown on magical ability and resistance to curses.”
“I—”
“And yes to willing to learn magic,” Mr. Clutter continued happily, marking the page in front of him as if Alex wasn’t there. “We should put no to affiliated with dark creatures. And no to evil intent.”
“Does anybody say yes to evil intent?” Alex asked, more to himself than Mr. Clutter.
“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Mr. Clutter replied, looking up from the page. “We have to ask, it’s on the form.”
“Oh,” Alex said, surprised that Mr. Clutter had answered his question directly.
“Any experience with weapons?” Mr. Clutter asked suddenly. “You know—sword, ax, bow. Anything at all?”
“No,” Alex answered, confused.
“Ah, well,” said Mr. Clutter, looking back to the paper on his desk. “Not a problem, not a problem at all. Lots of first-timers don’t have any experience with weapons.”
“Are there many first-timers?” Alex asked, not terribly surprised when Mr. Clutter didn’t answer.
“That about does it I think,” said Mr. Clutter, standing up. “If you’ll just sign here at the bottom, we’ll see what we can do about finding you an adventure.”
“Yes, well,” Alex began as Mr. Clutter forced the pen into his hand and pointed to the place where he should sign. “I don’t—”
“I’m sure this seems very fast,” said Mr. Clutter, tapping the page in front of Alex. “It’s just that I know of an adventure that’s about to begin, and if we get your application to them quickly enough, they may take you along.”
“Oh,” was all Alex could think to say. He paused, then signed his name in the spot next to Mr. Clutter’s finger.
“Excellent,” said Mr. Clutter, taking the pen and looking over the signed application. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll see if I can arrange an interview immediately.”
Confused by everything that was happening, and a little breathless because of Mr. Clutter’s way of talking very fast, Alex considered running for the door. He was curious, however, and the idea of adventures had caught his interest. And although he didn’t believe in magic, he thought perhaps he could.
Alex followed Mr. Clutter out of the room and down a long, wood-paneled hallway. There were several doors on either side of the hallway, but Mr. Clutter led Alex straight to the door at the far end.
“If you’ll just relax in here for a few minutes,” Mr. Clutter said, opening the door for Alex, “I’ll see if I can arrange your interview.”
Alex was about to say, “Thank you, but I really have to be going,” but he never got the chance. Mr. Clutter shut the door and was gone. Alex was alone in a large room with a warm fire and several comfortable-looking chairs. Two small tables with large silver lamps on them had been pushed against one wall of the room and there was a large window on the back wall. Alex looked around, but there was nothing more to see.
“This is complete madness,” Alex said to himself as he started pacing around the room. Mr. Clutter must be mad, or maybe worse,Alex thought as he continued to circle the room. I’ll just make some excuse to get out of the shop and go back to Sildon Lane, that’s all.
Making his way to the window at the back of the room, Alex looked outside absently. He was trying to think of an excuse to leave, but what he saw outside the window made him forget everything. The view was not of an alleyway or a backyard, but of a snow-covered countryside. Rubbing his eyes to make sure he was seeing clearly, Alex looked closer. The view did not change like the sign had. He could see people moving around a small cluster of houses. Outside the window, it had started to snow and, try as he might, Alex couldn’t find an explanation for what he was seeing. After several minutes of staring out the window, Alex moved to the fireplace and dropped into a large leather chair, dazed.
He had almost convinced himself that Mr. Clutter was simply crazy. Yes, it would have been nice to believe in magic and adventures, but there really were no such things. Alex was starting to wish he had never come into the bookshop.
Suddenly the door opened, shaking him from his thoughts. Mr. Clutter had returned, and two people were following him.
“Now then,” Mr. Clutter began in a businesslike tone. “This is Mister Alexander Taylor, but he goes by Alex. He has applied for an adventure, and naturally I thought of you gentlemen.”
Alex’s eyes grew wide as he saw the two people who had followed Mr. Clutter into the room. The first man was barely five feet tall, with wide shoulders and short legs. He wore large leather boots and a blood-red shirt. His beard reached to just below his belt. The second person was close to six feet tall, with long, silver-blond hair and a happy, almost glowing, face. His clothes seemed to be all different shades of green, but Alex couldn’t tell what they were made of. As he looked at the two strangers, Alex realized that these were not normal people at all.
“Hmmm,” said the short one, looking at Alex. “Not had many applicants lately, have we?”
“Well, no,” Mr. Clutter admitted in an apologetic tone. “However, this young man seems willing, and I’m sure he would be an excellent addition to your adventure.”
“Really,” the short man replied, turning to look at Mr. Clutter. “Would you say that if youwere going on thisadventure, Clutter?”
“Well, my adventuring days are over,” replied Mr. Clutter, stammering slightly but continuing to smile. “But Alex seems an excellent choice for a first-time adventurer. You’ve seen his application, and applications are almost always right.”
“Would you bring us some tea?” asked the second man in a clear, musical voice.
“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Clutter, turning to go. “I’ll bring it right along then, shall I?”
“Give us a few minutes,” replied the second man with a slight smile. “We need to ask some questions first.”
Mr. Clutter was out of the room without another word, leaving Alex alone with the two strangers. The men seemed not to notice that he was staring at them as they moved two chairs closer to the fire and took their seats. There was an uncomfortable minute of silence, and Alex wondered if he should say something.
“Well,” the man with the musical voice began, “I suppose
introductions are in order. My name is Arconn. I am, as you may have guessed, an elf of the house of Dalious, hailing from the great forest lands of Delanor.”
Alex couldn’t have said anything if he’d tried. He had no idea what the “house of Dalious” was or where the “lands of Delanor” were, but he had noticed that Arconn, though looking normal enough, had oddly pointed ears.
“I’m Thrang Silversmith,” said the short man. “Son of Thorgood Silversmith. From the land of Thraxon.”
“I . . .” Alex started then stopped.
“You are Alexander Taylor,” said Arconn. “We’ve seen your application, so if it’s all right with you, we’ll call you Alex.”
“All right,” Alex managed to reply.
“He’s not sure what to make of us, I reckon,” said Thrang with a short laugh. “Thinking we’re just a couple of strange men, he is.”
“Oh, no,” Alex said quickly.
“Don’t worry ’bout it,” Thrang continued, waving off Alex’s words. “Most first-timers don’t know what to make of their new companions.”
“I suppose not,” said Alex. “I’m not at all sure about any of this.”
“That is an excellent place to start,” said Arconn happily.
“It is?” Alex asked.
“’Course it is,” Thrang answered in a more serious tone. “Not being sure leaves your mind open to all kinds of things, don’t it?”
“I suppose it does,” Alex admitted.
“Well, then, we’re looking for an eighth person to join our adventure,” said Thrang. “Clutter says you might be our man.”
“Yes, well I—”
“I think he will do nicely,” said Arconn. “Not too sure of himself, but willing.”
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