Diana Wynne Jones - Derkholm 2 - Year of the Griffin

VIP免费
2024-12-23 0 0 630.37KB 249 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
Year of the Griffin
Diana Wynne Jones
the second Derkholm book
A 3S digital back-up edition 1.0
click for scan notes and proofing history
Contents
|1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|
|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|
Greenwillow Books
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
Year of the Griffin
Copyright © 2000 by Diana Wynne Jones
The right of Diana Wynne Jones to be identified as
author of this work has been asserted by her.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical articles and reviews. Printed in the
United States of America. For information address
HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of
HarperCollins Publishers,
1350 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10019.
www.harperchildrens.com
The text of this book is set in Times Roman.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Jones, Diana Wynne.
Year of the griffin / by Diana Wynne Jones, p. cm.
“Greenwillow Books.”
Sequel to: Dark Lord of Derkholm.
Summary: When Elda, the griffin daughter of the great
Wizard Derk, arrives for schooling at the Wizards’
University, she encounters new friends, pirates,
assassins, worry, sabotage, bloodshed, and magic
misused.
ISBN 0-688-17898-7 (trade). ISBN 0-06-029158-3 (lib.
bdg.)
[1. Griffins—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3.
Schools—Fiction. 4. Fantasy.] I. Title.
PZ7.J684Yc2000 [Fie]—dc21 99-048522
First Edition
FOR SUSAN HIRSCHMAN
1
^ »
Nothing was going right with the Wizards’ University. When High
Chancellor Querida decided that she could not change the world and
run the University as well, she took herself and her three cats off to
a cottage beside the Waste, leaving the older wizards in charge. The
older wizards seized the opportunity to retire. Now, eight years
after the tours ended, the University was run by a committee of
rather younger wizards, and it was steadily losing money.
For forty years before that, the University had been forced to
provide for Mr. Chesney’s offworld Pilgrim Parties. Wizards had
also been made to provide magical events for the tours. Tourists
from the next universe had come in droves every year, expecting to
have adventures with elves, dwarfs, dragons, and the powers of
darkness, and most years this left the world laid waste. The
wizards then had to put it straight for the next year. Mr. Chesney,
whose orders were backed by a powerful demon, had been very
strict in his requirements, and he had paid for this service in gold.
When almost everyone in the world united to put a stop to the
Pilgrim Parties, the payments naturally stopped, so it was small
wonder that the University was short of funds.
“We need to make the place pay somehow,” the Chairman,
Wizard Corkoran, said anxiously at the beginning-of-term meeting.
“We’ve raised the student fees again—”
“And got fewer students than ever,” Wizard Finn pointed out,
although to hear the shouts and the bang and scrape of luggage
from the courtyard outside, you would have thought most of the
world was currently arriving there.
“Fewer, yes,” Corkoran said, looking at the list by his elbow, “but
the ones we have got must all come from very rich families, or they
couldn’t afford the fees. It stands to reason. I propose we ask these
families for money; we could put up a plaque with their names on.
People like that.”
Wizard Finn shot a look at the lovely Wizard Myrna, who turned
down the corners of her shapely mouth. The rest of the committee
simply stared at Corkoran with different sorts of blankness.
Corkoran was always having ideas, and none of them worked. The
students thought Corkoran was wonderful. Many of them imitated
his style of wearing an offworld necktie over an offworld
T-shirt—both with pictures on—and did their hair like Corkoran in
a wavy blond puff brushed back from the forehead. Quite a few of
the girl students were in love with him. But then they were only
taught by him, Finn thought gloomily. They didn’t have to wrestle
with his ideas of how to run a university.
“We can’t afford a plaque,” said Wizard Dench, the Bursar. “Even
with all the fees paid, we can only just afford to pay the staff and
buy food. We can’t afford to mend the roofs.”
Wizard Corkoran was used to Dench saying they couldn’t afford
things. He waved this away. “Then I’ll float a commemorating
spell,” he said. “We can have it circling the Spellman Building or
the Observatory tower—transparently, of course, so it won’t get in
the way.” When nobody said anything to this, he added, “I can
maintain it in my spare time.”
Nobody said anything to this either. They all knew Corkoran
never had any spare time. All the time he could spare from
teaching—and much that he couldn’t spare, too—went to his
research on how to get to the moon. The moon was his passion. He
wanted to be the first man to walk on it.
“That’s settled then,” said Corkoran. “Money’s bound to pour in.
If you just take my first-year tutorial group, you can see the
possibilities. Look.” He ran a finger down the list beside him.
“There’s King Luther’s eldest son—he’s Crown Prince of Luteria,
and he’ll own all sorts of land—Prince Lukin. And the next one’s the
sister of Emperor Titus. At least I believe she’s his half sister, but
I’m sure we can prevail on the Empire to make a large donation.
Then there’s a dwarf. We’ve never had a dwarf before, but they all
come from fastnesses stuffed with treasure. And there’s this girl
Elda. She’s the daughter of Wizard Derk, who—”
“Er—” began Finn, who knew Elda quite well.
“Wizard Derk is a wealthy and important man,” Corkoran
continued. “Did you say something, Finn?”
“Only that Derk doesn’t approve of the University,” Finn said. It
was not what he had been going to say.
“Obviously he changed his mind when he found his daughter had
talent,” Corkoran said, “or he wouldn’t be paying for her to come
here. All right. That’s agreed then. Myrna, you’re married to a
bard. You know how to use Powers of Persuasion. You’re in charge
of sending a letter to the parents of all students who—”
“I, er, have another idea,” Wizard Umberto put in from the end of
the conference table. Everyone turned to him hopefully. Umberto
was quite young, rather fat, and almost never said anything. The
general belief was that Umberto was a brilliant astrologer, except
that he never said anything about his work. He went pink, seeing
them all looking at him, and stammered, “Oh. Er. I think we
should, well, you know, be able to set up a scheme to let people pay
for magical information. You know, come from miles away to be
told secrets.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Umberto,” said Wizard Wermacht. Wermacht
was the youngest wizard there, and very proud of the fact. “You’re
describing just what we do, anyway.”
“But only for students, Wermacht,” Umberto stammered shyly. “I
thought we could, er, sell everyone horoscopes and so forth.”
“But then they wouldn’t be secrets!” Wermacht said scornfully.
“Your usual muddled thinking. I suggest—”
“Umberto and Wermacht,” Corkoran said, “you are interrupting
the Chair.”
At this Umberto went pinker still, and Wermacht said, “I’m so
sorry, Corkoran. Please do go on.”
“I’d nearly finished,” Corkoran said. “Myrna is going to send out a
letter to the parents of all students, asking for the largest possible
donation and telling them their names will go up in a spell with the
ones who give most in big letters at the top. We’re bound to get a
good response. That’s it. Now forgive me if I rush away. My latest
moon studies are very delicate and need watching all the time.” He
gathered up his lists and stormed out of the Council Hall, with his
tie flapping over his shoulder.
“I hate these meetings,” Finn said to Myrna as they walked out
into the stone foyer together, where the shouts and rumbles from
the arriving students echoed louder than ever.
“So do I,” Myrna said dourly. “Why do I always end up doing the
work for Corkoran?”
Finn found Myrna the most ravishing woman he knew. She had
brains and beauty. He was always hoping she might be persuaded
to give up her bardic husband and turn to him instead. “It’s too
bad,” he said. “Umberto just sits there like Humpty-Dumpty, and
Wermacht throws his weight about and then crawls to Corkoran.
Dench is useless. It’s no wonder Corkoran’s relying on you.”
“Of course he does,” said Myrna. “His head’s in the moon. And I
didn’t notice you offering to do anything.”
“Well,” said Finn. “My schedule—”
“As if I hadn’t enough to do!” Myrna went on. “I’ve seen to all the
students’ rooms, and the college staff, and the kitchens, and the
bedding, and there’s probably going to be an outcry when someone
realizes that I had to give Derk’s daughter the concert hall to sleep
in. She’s too big for anywhere else. How is it, anyway, that
Corkoran’s teaching her? Why does he always grab the most
interesting students?”
“That’s just what I was going to say!” Finn cried out, seeing his
chance to be truly sympathetic to Myrna. “I’ve met most of those
students. I knew them as kids when I was Wizard Guide on the
tours, and I tell you it’s going to serve Corkoran right for hogging
the ones he thinks are best, or richest, or whatever he thinks they
are.”
“They probably are best,” Myrna said, barely listening. “I did the
admissions, too. The University secretaries nearly went mad over
that, and they’ll go mad again now they have to get this letter out.
And on top of it all, I’ve just discovered I’m pregnant!”
“Oh,” said Finn. There, he thought, went his hopes of Myrna’s
leaving her bard. All he could think of was to say lamely, “Well,
anyway, Corkoran’s in for a shock when he sees one of his new
students.”
Finn was right. Next morning Corkoran hurried into the tall
stone tutorial chamber and only just managed not to stand
stock-still, gaping. He bit his teeth together. He knew better than
anyone that his fine, fair good looks caused most students to hang
adoringly on his words. He thought of his face as his best teaching
aid and was well aware that letting his jaw hang spoiled the effect.
So he plastered a smile across it. But he still stood rooted to the
spot.
Blazing out of the decidedly motley set of young people in the
room—like a sunburst, Corkoran thought dazedly—was a huge
golden griffin. He was not sure he was safe. Not exactly a huge
griffin, he told himself hastily. He had heard that some griffins
were about twice the size of an elephant. This one was only as large
as an extra-big plow horse. But she—he could somehow tell it was
a she; there was an enormous, emphatic sheness to this griffin—she
was so brightly golden in fur and crest and feathers, so sharply
curved of beak, and so fiercely alert in her round orange eyes that
at first sight she seemed to fill the room. He noticed a dwarf
somewhere down by her great front talons—and noticed with
irritation that the fellow was in full war gear—but that was all. He
very nearly turned and ran away.
Still, he had come to teach these students and also to find out, if
possible, how wealthy their parents were, so he pasted the smile
wider on his face and began his usual speech of welcome to the
University.
The students gazed at him with interest, particularly at his tie,
which this morning had two intertwined pink and yellow dragons
on it. and at the words on his T-shirt under the tie.
“What’s MOON SOON mean?” rumbled the dwarf. Probably he
thought he was whispering. It gave a peculiarly grating, surly boom
to his voice.
“Hush!” said the griffin, probably whispering, too. It sounded like
a very small scream. “It may mean something magical.”
The dwarf leaned forward with a rattle of mail and peered.
“There’s another word under his tie,” he grated. “SHOT. It’s SHOT.
Why should anyone shoot the moon?”
“It must be a spell,” small-screamed the griffin.
Corkoran realized that between the two of them he was being
drowned out. “Well, that’s enough about the University,” he said.
“Now I want to know about you. I suggest each of you speaks in
turn. Tell the rest of us your name, who your parents are, and what
made you want to come and study here, while the rest of you listen
quietly. Why don’t you start?” he said, pointing at the large, shabby
young man on the other side of the griffin. “No, no, you don’t have
to stand up!” Corkoran added hastily as the young man’s
morose-looking face reddened and the young man tried to scramble
to his feet. “Just sit comfortably and tell us about yourself.
Everyone can be quite relaxed about this.”
The young man sank back, looking far from relaxed. He seemed
worried. He pulled nervously at the frayed edges of his thick woolen
jacket and then planted a large hand on each knee so that they
covered the patches there. “My name is Lukin,” he said. “My father
is King of Luteria—in the north, you know—and I’m, er, his eldest
son. My father, well, how do I put this? My father isn’t paying my
fees. I don’t think he could afford to, anyway. He doesn’t approve of
my doing magic, and he, er, doesn’t want me here. He likes his
family at home with him.”
Corkoran’s heart sank at this, and sank further as Lukin went
on, “Our kingdom’s very poor, you know, because it was always
being devastated by Mr. Chesney’s tours. But my
grandmother—my mother’s mother, that is—was a
wizard—Melusine, you may have heard of her—and I’ve inherited
her talent. Sort of. From the time I was ten I was always having
magical accidents, and my grandmother said the only way to stop
having them was to train properly as a wizard. So she left me her
money for the fees when she died, but of course the fees have gone
up since her day and I’ve had to save and economize in order to be
here. But I do intend to learn, and I will stop having accidents. A
king shouldn’t spend his time making holes in things.” He was
almost crying with earnestness as he finished.
Corkoran could have cried, too. He made a secret mark on his list
to tell Myrna not to waste time asking King Luther for money and
asked, “What kinds of accidents do you have?”
Lukin sighed. “Most kinds. But I’m worst when there’s anything
to do with pits and holes.”
Corkoran had no notion how you put a stop to that kind of
trouble. Perhaps Myrna did. He added another scribble to remind
himself to ask Myrna. He said encouragingly, “Well, you’ve come to
the right place, Lukin. Thank you. Now you.” He pointed to the
large young woman sitting behind the dwarf. She was very
elegantly dressed in dark suede, and the elegance extended to her
long, fine, fair hair, which was drawn stylishly back inside an
expensive-looking scarf to set off her decidedly beautiful hawklike
face. From the look of command on that face and the hugely
expensive fur cloak thrown casually over the chair behind her,
Corkoran had no doubt that she was the Emperor’s sister.
She gave him a piercing blue-eyed look. “I am Olga,” she said.
“And?” invited Corkoran.
“I do not wish to say,” she replied. “Here I wish to be accepted as
I am, purely for magical ability. I have been raising winds and
monsters since I was quite a small child.” She sat back, clearly
intending to say no more.
So the Emperor’s sister wishes to remain incognita, Corkoran
thought. Fair enough. It could be awkward with the other students.
He nodded knowingly and pointed to the tall, narrow, brown-faced
fellow half hidden behind Olga and the griffin’s left wing. “And
you?”
‘“Felim ben Felim,” the young man replied, bowing in the manner
of the eastern countries. “I, too, wish to say little about myself. If
the Emir were to discover I am here studying, he would very likely
dispatch assassins to terminate me. He has promised that he would,
at least.”
“Oh,” said Corkoran. “Er, is the Emir likely to discover you?”
“I trust not,” Felim replied calmly. “My tutor, the wizard Fatima,
has cast many spells to prevent the Emir from noticing my absence,
and she furthermore assures me that the wards of the University
will be considerable protection to me also. But our lives are in the
laps of the gods.”
“True,” Corkoran said, making a particularly black and emphatic
scribble beside Felim’s name. He did not know Wizard Fatima and
certainly did not share the woman’s faith that the University could
protect anyone from assassins. Myrna must definitely not send a
letter to Felim’s parents. If the answer came in assassins, they
could all be in trouble. A pity. People were rich in the Emirates. He
sighed and pointed with his pen at the other young woman in the
group, sitting quietly behind Lukin. Corkoran had her placed in his
mind, almost from the start, as the daughter of Wizard Derk. He
had met Derk more than once and had been struck by his
unassuming look. Quite extraordinary, Corkoran always thought,
for the man whom the gods had trusted with the job of setting the
world to rights after what Mr. Chesney had done to it to look so
modest. The young woman had a similar humble, almost harassed
look. She was rather brown and very skinny and sat huddled in a
shawl of some kind, over which her hair fell in dark, wet-looking
coils on her shoulders. She twisted her long fingers in the shawl as
she spoke. Corkoran could have sworn her dark ringlets of hair
twisted about, too. She gave him a worried stare from huge
greenish eyes.
“I’m Claudia,” she said huskily, “and the Emperor of the South is
my half brother. Titus is in a very difficult position over me,
because my mother is a Marshwoman, and the Senate doesn’t want
to acknowledge me as a citizen of the Empire. My mother was so
unhappy there in the Empire, you see, that she went back to the
Marshes. The Senate thinks I should renounce my citizenship as
Mother did, but Titus doesn’t want me to do that at all. And the
trouble over me got worse when it turned out that the gift for
magic that all Marshpeople have didn’t mix at all with Empire
magic. I’m afraid I have a jinx. In the end Titus sent me here
secretly, for safety, hoping I could learn enough to cure the jinx.”
Corkoran tried not to look as amazed as he felt. His eyes shot to
Olga. Was she Derk’s daughter then? He switched his eyes back to
Claudia with an effort. He could see she had Marsh blood now. That
olive skin and the thinness, which always made him think of frogs.
His sympathy was with the Senate there. Perhaps they would pay
the University to keep the girl. “What kind of jinx?” he said.
A slightly greenish blush swept over Claudia’s thin face. “It goes
through everything.” She sighed. “It made it rather difficult to get
here.”
This was exasperating, Corkoran thought. Something that
serious was almost certainly incurable. It was frustrating. So far he
had a king’s son with no money, an obviously wealthy girl who
would not say who she was, a young man threatened with assassins
if the University admitted he was here, and now the Emperor’s
jinxed sister, whom the Empire didn’t want. He turned with some
relief to the dwarf. Dwarfs always had treasure—and tribes, too,
who were prepared to back them up. “You now,” he said.
The dwarf stared at him. Or rather, he stared at Corkoran’s tie,
frowning a little. Corkoran never minded this. He preferred it to
meeting students’ eyes. His ties were designed to deflect the
melting glances of girl students and to enable him to watch all
students without their watching him. But the dwarf went on
staring and frowning until Corkoran was almost uncomfortable. In
the manner of dwarfs, he had his reddish hair and beard in
numbers of skinny pigtails, each one with clacking bones and tufts
of red cloth plaited into it. The braids of his beard were noticeably
摘要：

YearoftheGriffinDianaWynneJonesthesecondDerkholmbookA3Sdigitalback-upedition1.0clickforscannotesandproofinghistoryContents|1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9||10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|GreenwillowBooksAnImprintofHarperCollinsPublishersYearoftheGriffinCopyright©2000byDianaWynneJonesTherightofDianaWynneJonestobeidentifi...

展开>> 收起<<
Diana Wynne Jones - Derkholm 2 - Year of the Griffin.pdf

共249页,预览50页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：249 页 大小：630.37KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-23

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 动力学连接体 力的合成 配电装置 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 249
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注