The Wizardry Quested

Начало книги

It was high winter and beyond the town the world lay under a blanket of white. Wiz and Moira stood outside the outer gate of the castle and looked down the long sloping High Street to the scene beyond.

"Oh Wiz! Look at the fresh snow! Isn’t it beautiful?""If you say so," Wiz Zumwalt told his wife. "I’m a California boy and this isn’t my style." "Oh you just don’t like snow." "It’s not that I don’t like snow. But I hate slush."

"Still," Moira said firmly, "it’s beautiful." Wiz reached out and circled her waist with his arm. "You’re beautiful."

Even an objective observer-which Wiz most definitely was not-would have agreed. Moira was wearing a heavy cloak of dark green wool lined and trimmed with dark fur. Her red hair, sparkled by diamond drops of melted snowflakes, hung down over the collar. The cold brought roses to her pale cheeks and her green eyes were bright under lashes the color of brushed copper. He had loved her from the first moment he had seen her, but that had been a magic spell. What had grown between them since then needed no spells.

Читать дальше →