MotherConfessor: переводы

→Alex used his thumb, wetted with his own blood from the cut on his arm, to erase the tree that didn’t belong. When it was gone, he slid the knife into the slot.

→Together the two of them gathered up the bodies and piled them in the center of the sand. The white sand turned red as it soaked up all the blood still running from the corpses. They laid the bodies of Radell Cain and Sedrick Vendis side by side on top for all to see when they arrived.

→Jax looked around. “Then let’s send them back. Let’s try it.”

→“I’d bet my life on it.”

→“You mean to say that if that tree is erased, the gateway will function?”

→“Easy. You take out the one that doesn’t fit the composition.” Alex laid a finger on one of the trees. “This one spoils the composition of the drawing. It doesn’t belong. An artist would know that. I knew it the instant I first saw it. Radell Cain didn’t see it because he wasn’t really an artist. The Lord Rahl who put this there was.”

→Jax was frowning in earnest. “How are you supposed to know which one to remove?”

→Alex nodded. “For the gateway to work, for the one named by the Law of Nines to activate it, for his blood to work, for it all to ring true to the fail-safe, one of the trees has to be removed, just like I removed one in that painting I gave you.”

→She puzzled up at him. “It should have nine. It has one too many.”

→“And if I’m the one named by the Law of Nines, how many do you suppose it ought to have?”

→“A fail-safe. Things of magic, things that are dangerous, usually have a fail-safe. Radell Cain thought that the fail-safe was your blood, the blood of the one named by the Law of Nines. But sometimes a more subtle fail-safe is integrated into dangerous things so that only the right person can use it.”

→“I did what was needed to open the gateway, but I only did part of what is necessary to make it work properly. I think it has a fail-safe.”

→She turned back from her survey of the darkness within. “That doesn’t mean a lot. It’s dark and hard to see in the rain. They could be hiding anywhere. But more than that, just because you don’t see anyone right now doesn’t mean they couldn’t show up at any moment.”

→Alex was looking forward to the transfer of title being completed. He wanted to spend some time alone in the woods painting. He was warming to the idea of such a vast place being his, of having a world to explore and call his own.

→Mr. Fenton told him that the Daggett Trust had made inquiries, hoping for Alex’s decision on selling sooner rather than later. Something about it riled Alex and made him come to a decision. He asked Mr. Fenton to tell the people at the trust that he was taking title and had every intention of keeping the land. The lawyer had then gone to great lengths to make certain that Alex understood the restrictions to the deed, and that any violation would result in him losing the land, even after he had title. Alex had assured the man that he understood.

→If Alex died without ever deciding to sell, and if he had no heir, the land would revert to the conservation group without them having to pay a penny, so in a way it made sense to sell the land, because then the money would be his no matter what happened. But, on the other hand, if he died he wouldn’t be able to spend money from the grave.

→He hadn’t yet decided if he wanted to sell the land, but he figured that he had the rest of his life to decide. Mr. Fenton from the law firm assured Alex that he could sell the land to the Daggett Trust at any point should he decide to do so. Alex asked if Mr. Fenton thought they could afford to pay fair market value for so much land. The man went out of his way to assure Alex that the Daggett Trust was well funded and would be able to handle such a purchase without any difficulty.

→On one hand he knew that it wasn’t possible that he could have imagined Jax, but on the other hand it often seemed easier to believe that he had dreamed her up, much the way he did the scenes he loved painting. He knew, though, that such thoughts were most likely born of his dejection that she had never tried to contact him again. He was just beating himself up over having driven her away, just feeling sorry for himself.

→His mother hadn’t spoken since his birthday, when she had told him to run and hide, when she had warned him about a different kind of human who broke people’s necks. He worried at times that he’d somehow built upon his mother’s strange words to come up with Jax and her story—created a delusion of his own.

→He tried hard to keep such fears in perspective, tried hard not to give them any power over him, tried hard not to let his imagination get the best of him. Yes, his mother was sick, but that didn’t mean that the same thing would happen to him.