"Dragonlance - Deathgate Cycle 05 - The Hand of Chaos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Deathgate Cycle)

Once he got them quiet long enough to hear, Haplo imparted the message, taking care that it was complicated and involved.

The dolphins listened intently and swam off the moment Haplo shut his mouth.

When he was certain that the dolphins' attention was no longer on him, he and the dog swam to the submersible, climbed aboard, and sailed off.

CHAPTER 2

DRAKNOR

CHELESTRA

HAPLO HAD NEVER COMPLETELY MASTERED THE DWARVEN SYSTEM OF navigation, which, according to Grundle, relied on sounds emitted by the seamoons themselves. At first he was concerned about being able to find Draknor, but he soon discovered that the seamoon was easy to find... too easy. The serpents left a trail of foul ooze in their wake. The path led to the murky black waters surrounding the tormented seamoon.

Darkness swallowed him. He had sailed into the caverns of Draknor. He could see nothing and, fearful of running aground, slowed the submersible's forward progress until it barely moved. He could swim through the foul water, if he had to; he'd done it before. But he hoped swimming wouldn't be necessary.

His hands were dry, and his lower arms where he'd rolled up the wet sleeves. The runes were extremely faint, but they were visible. And though they gave him the magical power of a child of two, the faint blue of the sigla was comforting. He didn't want to get wet again.

The submersible's prow scraped against rock. Haplo steered it swiftly upward, breathed a sigh when it continued, unimpeded. He must be nearing the shore. He decided to risk bringing the vessel to the surface...

The runes on his hands! Blue. Faint blue.

Haplo brought the ship to a full stop, stared down at the sigla. Faint blue color, not nearly as blue as the veins beneath his skin on the back of his hands. And that was odd. Damn odd!

Weak as they were, the sigla should have been glowingЧ his body's reaction to the danger of the serpents. But the sigla weren't reacting as they had in the past and, he realized, neither were his other instincts. He'd been too preoccupied piloting the submersible to notice.

Before, when he'd come this close to the snakes' lair, he could scarcely move, scarcely think for the debilitating fear that flowed from the monsters.

But Haplo wasn't afraid; at least, he amended, he wasn't afraid for himself. His fear ran deeper. It was cold and twisted him inside.

"What's going on, boy?" he asked the dog, who had crowded near him and was whimpering against his leg.

Haplo patted the animal reassuringly, though he himself could have used reassurance. The dog whined and edged closer.

The Patryn started the vessel again, guided it toward the surface, his attention divided between the gradually brightening water and the sigla on his skin. The runes did not alter in appearance.

Judging by the evidence of his own body, the serpents were no longer on Draknor. But if they weren't on Draknor and they weren't with the mensch and they weren't battling the Sartan, where were they?

The submersible surfaced. Haplo scanned the shoreline rapidly, found his ship, smiled in satisfaction to see it whole, undamaged. But his fear grew stronger, though the sigla on his skin gave him no reason to be afraid.

The body of the king serpent, slain by the mysterious "serpent mage" (who might or might not have been Alfred), lay on the cliffs above. No sign of living serpents was visible.

Haplo beached the submersible. Cautious, wary, he opened the hatch, climbed up onto the top deck. He carried no weapons, though he'd found a cache of battle-axes inside the ship. Only blades enhanced by magic would bite through the flesh of the serpents, and Haplo was too weak in his own magic now to impart its power to metal.

The dog followed him, growled a warning. Its legs stiffened, its hackles rose. Its gaze was fixed on the cave.

"What is it, boy?" Haplo asked, tensing.

The dog quivered all over, looked at its master, pleading permission to race to the attack.