Abarat - Barker Clive (бесплатная библиотека электронных книг TXT) 📗
"There is a town. But it's a little distance from the harbor."
"I see no harbor."
"Well, there's not much of it left," Diamanda said. "It was burned down, long before my time."
The keel of The Lyre was grating on the shore of the Hereafter. Joephi was first out, hauling on the rope and securing it to a piece of aged timber that was driven into the ground. Mespa helped Diamanda out, and the three of them stood side by side assessing the unpromising landscape spread before them. The storm had followed them across the divide between the two worlds, its fury undimmed.
"Now, let's remember," said Diamanda, "we're here to do one thing and one thing only. We get our business done and then we leave. Remember: we should not be here."
"We know that," said Mespa.
"But let's not be hasty and make a mistake," Joephi said, glancing at the box Diamanda carried. "For her sake we have to do this right. We carry the hopes of the Abarat with us."
Even Diamanda was quieted by this remark. She seemed to meditate on it for a long moment, her head downturned, the rain washing her white hair into curtains that framed the box she held. Then she said: "Are you both ready?"
The other women murmured that yes, they were; and with Diamanda leading the way, they left the shore and headed through the rain-lashed grass, to find the place where providence had arranged they would do their holy work.
