"Troy Denning - Dark Sun - The Prism Pentad 05 - The Cerulean Storm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

The Cerulean Storm
Troy Denning
Dark Sun, Prism Pentad, Book 5
First Printing: September 1993.
Printed in the United States of America.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 92-61097
ISBN: 1-56076-642-5

Scanned, formatted and proofed by Dreamcity
Ebook version 1.0
Release Date: December, 3, 2003
 PROLOGUE
Most men called it shadow, that dark stain visible only as an absence: the cold gloom cast upon the
ground when their bodies blocked the light of the crimson sun. Wiser minds referred to it as the Black,
and they knew that it separated everything that existed from everything that did not. It lurked just beneath
the surface in all things, like the leathery shell of some great egg, buried shallow and about to hatch.
Outside lay the barren mountains, the endless sand wastes, and the bleak, windswept plains that were the
world of Athas. Inside lay the Hollow, filled with the languid albumin of nothingness.
Within this colorless ether floated the bones of an ancient skeleton. It lay curled into a tight ball, its
shoulder blades fused into a large hump and its gangling arms wrapped around its knees. The skull
seemed remotely human, though the slender jawbones, drooping chin, and flat cheekbones insinuated that
this was not entirely true.
The skeleton filled the Hollow completely, but it would have been wrong to call the thing huge. In
this place, size had no meaning. Only existence mattered, and by the mere fact that it was, the skeleton
occupied all of the vast emptiness inside the egg.
The skeleton scratched at the murky shell with long barbed talons, dreaming of the day it would be
reborn. For the first time in an eternity, it felt confident of escaping its timeless prison. Forks of lightning
circled its misshapen skull like a crown. Sparks danced in the empty sockets where once it had
possessed eyes.
Beneath the scratching talons appeared a pair of blue embers and a long slitlike mouth. The features
were all the skeleton ever saw of its servants. The shadow people were part of the Black, as trapped
within the dark shell as their master was inside the emptiness of the egg.
We felt your summons, Omnipotent One.
The servant used thought-speech to report, for sound did not exist within the skeleton's eternal
prison.
I have been thinking, Khidar, the skeleton replied. It slowly twisted its oblong skull around to
stare more directly into the shadow's eyes. The sorcerer-kings must be near when the Usurper frees
me.
That's too dangerous! The servant's eyes grew larger and brighter. The six of them have grown
stronger than you know, Rajaat. They'll destroy us!
A ball of lightning formed above Rajaat's head. They won't destroy me! he snarled. If you hesitate to
sacrifice a few lives so I may return Athas to its greater glory, perhaps you should remain in the Black.
Khidar winced, his eyes and mouth sliding down the inside of the black shell. Our fates are bound
together, he said, with more regret than enthusiasm. We have no concern except the future of Athas.
Never forget that, Rajaat hissed, the blue rays in his empty eye sockets flickering in ire. Think of all
that I have sacrificed to return the world to your people, and follow my example.
We are most grateful, Khidar assured him. We'll see to whatever you wish.
Good. It would be best to avenge the sorcerer-kings' betrayal before proceeding with the
Restoration, Rajaat said. The lightning began to crackle more steadily and calmly over his head. After
that, we'll cleanse Athas of the most profane strains of the degenerate races. The half-breeds shall die