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.He sighed, put the jar back, and crawled into the bed's embrace, fumbling forthe light-switch and dropping the room into total blackness, without even ahint of outside light.The electronic clocks of the VCRs bothered him though,enough that he briefly considered flinging a towel over them before decidinghe could just bury his head instead.His last conscious thought was to pullthe blankets up over himself and burrow into them, before the exhaustion hehad been holding off with both hands won the battle and flung him into sleep.CHAPTER TENSam glanced over at Keighvin as Tannim retreated.The young man had lookedtired and worried, and Sam knew the "why" of both.Tannim had put in severalafter-hours sessions reinforcing the protections on Sam's house; that took alot more out of him than mere loss of sleep.And there was no doubt that hewas worried about the kids, Tania especially.He has reason to be.She takes her health, if not her life, into her handsevery time she walks the streets.Sam had more immediate worries on his mind, and so did Keighvin.There wassomething Keighvin hadn't told Tannim.The Unseleighe Sidhe had shown up thismorning outside Sam's house with more than a personal warning.He'd delivereda warning to Fairgrove as well, in the form of a challenge; time and placespecified for tonight, at the Fairgrove boundaries.And despite Donal'sattempts at reassurance, Sam trusted Keighvin's judgment, and Keighvin wasworried."It's traditional," Keighvin had said."You always warn your opponent beforeyou attack-if they're of the Folk, that is." Then he'd smiled, but withouthumor."Of course, the warning can consist of sending back the pieces ofsomeone, appropriately gift-wrapped."Sam had winced a little; it was one thing to hear about the bloodthirstinessof the Sidhe in a tale, and another to feel it so close to home."What aboutmortals?" he'd asked."Why did I rate a warning?"Keighvin had pondered for a moment, as if the question hadn't occurred to him."Probably because you were protected too well to attack easily.Mortals-well,mortals in general just don't rate any courtesy, Sam.I'm afraid theUnseleighe Court deems mortals one short step above cockroaches."At that Sam had grinned widely."Could be they forget what good survivorscockroaches are," he had offered.Keighvin had laughed and slapped him on theback.As soon as Tannim got out of earshot, he asked the question that he couldn'tvoice while Tannim was around."Why didn't you tell young Tannim about therest of the warning?" he asked the Sidhe.Keighvin shrugged."He's too tired to be of much use to us right now," Keighvin said withresignation."He plays hero too much for his own good, and he'd be right herepitching levin-bolts, exhausted or no, if we'd told him.I'd rather not havethe lad at my back when he's this worn down." Sam looked at him quizzically,and Keighvin coughed, embarrassed."Lately Tannim gets a little-erratic-when he's tired," the Sidhe said,carefully.Erratic, hmm? Just what's that supposed to mean?"How so?" Sam probed."Level with me, Keighvin.What are we talking abouthere?"Keighvin shook his head."Truth to tell, Sam, I'd just as soon not have Tannimanywhere nearby when he's exhausted.His intended targets are safer than hisallies.Lack of endurance, I fear."Sam didn't know whether to be amused or alarmed.It was funny now, but itmight not be that funny later, if he found himself having to dodge-what?"Is this bad aim just with his magic?" Sam asked.Keighvin sighed."Magic, fisticuffs, guns, 'tis everything, anything that requires aiming." Hespread his hands."The last time it happened, we were picking slugs out of thewalls for a fortnight, and poor Conal still hasn't regrown the hair Tannimscorched from his scalp."Conal, a few feet away, looked up at the sound of his name, and scowled fromunder the brim of his baseball cap.Sam recalled now that the Sidhe-mechanichad looked rather odd when he'd removed the cap to scratch his head.He'd hada swath about two inches wide shaved from front to back, in a kind of reverseMohawk.Sam had wondered at the time if it was some sort of new fashion-manyof the younger elves had taken to punk and cutting-edge clothing with a gleeunmatched by any human over eighteen.Now he knew better, at least in Conal'scase."A near-miss," Keighvin continued, "and damned lucky it wasn't nearer than itwas.Eh.Poor lad never was very sharp with a gun anyway." He shook his headagain."Wish we could get that glittery friend of his with the odd name tomagic him up some endurance, but I fear that's asking for a miracle.He hasnabeen the same since he got that leg of his chewed on [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]