Silver Batal and the Water Dragon Races

Начало книги

When the dust in the cliff-hewn city of Jaspaton got too thick and the wind too whipping, even the most ancient and stalwart of the yarnsladies would leave their colorful silk tents and go indoors. And when they went indoors, so did everyone else.

Everyone sensible, at least.

On such a day, Silver Batal raced down one flight of stone stairs, and then another and another, refusing to let the trader on the desert floor out of her sight.

“Don’t go yet,” Silver shouted, spitting strands of hair from her mouth. The winds carried her words in the wrong direction.

The trader rolled the side flaps of his wagon down and struggled against the weather to secure them. He shook his fist angrily at the sky, but Silver laughed. His struggles bought her more time to catch him.

“Silver!” At the communal bread oven, her cousin Brajon called her name.

“Can’t stop!” Silver leaped over a chicken flapping its wings furiously to keep from blowing away. The leather bag holding Silver’s letter bounced against her hip.

Читать дальше →