"Carver, Jeffrey A - Parrone - The Dragons" - читать интересную книгу автора (Carver Jeffrey A)

instinctively flexed his wings in pursuit. Gaining on the shadowy
thing, he exhaled a lance of flame. His aim was perfect. The fire
struck the fleeing creature, and he heard its wail of pain. WingTouch
roared in triumph, but his victory was fleeting. The blackness rippled
and veered and fled into the night. He had hurt it, but it was still
alive and now he had lost it.
So it had gone for half the night, since WingTouch's patrol had
responded to a cry for help from the guardians of this grove.
WingTouch had watched strong and faithful dragons being driven back
from the flashing storm clouds, back from these undragon drahls of the
Enemy that filled the sky with their trills of laughter. Dragon in
shape, but not in substance, the drahls were the Enemy's most hated
warriors, the leaders of his army of destruction, delusion, and fear.
But the drahls were not the only sorcery in the skies tonight.
The Enemy had turned the very elements of nature against them.
Amidst the lightning, it was hard even to see his fellow dragons.
There were many in the sky, but fewer than at the start of battle.
How many had died? How many had fled? WingTouch had felt death all
around him, and dragons passing to the Final Dream Mountain, but mostly
he had felt terror reigning in the sky. The valley below, with its
precious lumenis groves, was being pummeled by lightning; and the
dragons themselves by withering attacks of freezing fire from the
drahls. So far, the dragons had held the defense in the air, and the

guardian spells had held below. But for how much longer?
As if in answer to his thought, an explosion of lightning and thunder
rocked the air. WingTouch shuddered, and felt something change in the
air below. He glimpsed a pair of drahls flickering like shadows low
across the basin. How had they gotten so low? Had the guardian spells
failed? He thought he heard a roar of anger from the spell-wielding
dragons on the ground.
Bucking the winds, Windrush do%e to give chase. He passed harmlessly
through the layer where he should have encountered a challenging
spell-barrier. He felt nothing; the spells of protection had failed.
He bellowed his rage; he gathered fire in his throat. But before he
could catch the drahls he saw cold flames ripple across the ground
ahead of him, pouring from the speeding creatures. His heart cried
out-and he cried out to his fellow dragons for help, but his cry was
lost on the wind. The others were occupied in battle high overhead.
From the ground, he heard the wail of dying guardian dragons.
Speeding low over the valley, too far behind the drahis to stop them,
WingTouch saw their freezing bursts of fire exploding in a long line,
where the lumenis and the garden of power were being blasted into ruin.
Within moments, one more living garden was gone, one more source of
strength against the darkness. WingTouch beat his wings with impotent
fury as he climbed back toward the others.
There was nothing left to fight for here.
"DRAGONS, GAThER!" he thundered. His voice was nearly lost in the
crashing of the storm. But some of the dragons heard, and they
repeated his words in trumpeting cries. Three dragons fell in beside