"Margaret Weis - Dragonlance Chronicles 01 - Dragons Of Autumn Twilight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragonlance)

belonging to other people had a way of falling into Tas's possession. The last
thing Tanis wanted tonight was trouble. He made a mental note to have a private
word with the kender.
The half-elf and the dwarf made their way through the crowd with less ease than
their little friend. Nearly every chair was taken, every table filled. Those who
could not find room to sit down were standing, talking in low voices. People
looked at Tanis and Flint darkly, suspiciously, or curiously. No one greeted
Flint, although there were several who had been long-standing customers of the
dwarven metalsmith. The people of Solace had their own problems, and it was
apparent that Tanis and Flint were now considered outsiders.
A roar sounded from across the room, from the table where the dragon helm lay
reflecting light from the firepit. Tanis's grim face relaxed into a smile as he
saw the giant Caramon lift little Tas off the floor in a bear hug.
Flint, wading through a sea of belt buckles, could only imagine the sight as he
listened to Caramon's booming voice answering Tasslehoff's piping greeting.
"Caramon better look to his purse," Flint grumbled. "Or count his teeth."
The dwarf and the half-elf finally broke through the press of people in front of
the long bar. The table where Caramon sat was shoved back against the tree
trunk. In fact, it was sitting in an odd position. Tanis wondered why Otik had
moved it when everything else remained exactly the same. But the thought was
crushed out of him, for it was his turn to receive the big warrior's
affectionate greeting. Tanis hastily removed the longbow and quiver of arrows
from his back before Caramon hugged them into kindling.
"My friend!" Caramon's eyes were wet. He seemed about to say more but was
overcome by emotion. Tanis was also momentarily unable to talk, but this was
because he'd had his breath sqeezed out of him by Caramon's muscular arms.
"Where's Raistlin?" he asked when he could talk. The twins were never far apart.
"There." Caramon nodded toward the end of the table. Then he frowned. "He's
changed," the warrior warned Tanis.
The half-elf looked into a corner formed by an irregularity of the vallenwood
tree. The corner was shrouded in shadow, and for a moment he couldn't see
anything after the glare of the fire-light. Then he saw a slight figure sitting
huddled in red robes, even in the heat of the nearby fire. The figure had a hood
cast over its face.
Tanis felt a sudden reluctance to speak to the young mage alone, but Tasslehoff
had flitted away to find the barmaid and Flint was being lifted off his feet by
Caramon. Tanis moved to the end of the table.
"Raistlin?" he said, feeling a strange sense of foreboding.
The robed figure looked up. "Tanis?" the man whispered as he slowly pulled the
hood off his head.
The half-elf sucked in his breath and fell back a pace. He stared in horror.
The face that turned toward him from the shadows was a face out of a nightmare.
Changed, Caramon had said! Tanis shuddered. "Change" wasn't the word! The mage's
white skin had turned a golden color. It glistened in the firelight with a
faintly metallic quality, looking like a gruesome mask. The flesh had melted
from the face, leaving the cheekbones outlined in dreadful shadows. The lips
were pulled tight in a dark straight line. But it was the man's eyes that
arrested Tanis and held him pinned in their terrible gaze. For the eyes were no
longer the eyes of any living human Tanis had ever seen. The black pupils were
now the shape of hourglasses! The pale blue irises Tanis remembered now