"Duncan, Dave - A Man Of His Word 02 - Faery Lands Forlorn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

Everything looked expensive, but nothing fit or blended. Whoever had assembled
the collection had been sadly lacking in even the rudiments of taste. One glance
at this warehouse would give Duke Angilki a seizure.
But being turned to stone ... Was this oddly youthful sultan trying to be
humorous? As Inos was planning a suitable query, the drape jingled again. A huge
gray dog bounded through, skidded on the polished tiles past both Inos and her
aunt, and came to a stop facing Azak. The dislike was immediate, and mutual.
The dog bared teeth, flattened ears, and raised hackles. Azak put hand to sword
hilt.
Inos was about to speak, then her courage failed her. Rap had called the monster
"Fleabag" affectionately, as if it were a cuddly lapdog instead of an overgrown
timber wolf. It had obeyed him eagerly, but dogs were always happy to go along
with Rap's suggestions, and Rap was not present now. It had not noticed Kade or
Inos, apparently, and even to speak its name might attract its hostility.
Moreover, something about Azak's stance suggested that he did not believe he was
in much danger, and Inos decided that she was more concerned for Rap's dog.
True, it had overpowered Andor and then savaged the giant Darad. The djinn was
not as massive as the jotunn had been, but he was almost as tall; he was younger
and probably faster, and Darad had been hampered by entering the fight when he
was already on the floor with the monster's teeth in his arm ... Shocked to
discover that she was assessing the contest as she might weigh an upcoming
skittles match at Kinvale, Inos looked to Kade, and Kade was very obviously not
going to interfere, either.
Azak's slim, curved blade slid into view. Inos glanced around at the drape in
the hope that Rap might appear. If Rasha had allowed his dog through, surely she
would not leave Rap himself to the unlikely mercy of the imps? The sword was out
now. The wolf had begun to growl. Was that a good sign or a bad?
It gathered itself to leap; Azak drew back his elbow. The dog turned to stone.
Kade recoiled, moaning, and Inos reached out to hug her, but more for her own
comfort than her aunt's, probably.
May the Good be with us! There was no doubt-stone it was. No mundane sculptor
could ever have matched the detail of the coat so well, nor achieved the cunning
fit of the grain of the rock to the gleam of light over muscle and bone, but
otherwise what had a moment before been a living, breathing, and highly
dangerous predator was now only a graceful ornament. Inexplicably, that felt
wrong. Inexplicably, that sorcery impressed Inos more than all the miracles she
had seen and experienced since the terrors began, so many hours before.
Azak, on the other hand, sheathed his scimitar quite matterof-factly, as if
petrification were no more remarkable in Arakkaran than shampooing, or ladies
entering rooms through windows.
Before anyone spoke, the jewels tinkled again, signaling the arrival of Sultana
Rasha. Light flared up behind her and there was no longer an impossible night
beyond the drapery. She was wearing the face of a mature woman, an imperious
matron in her thirties-not conventionally beautiful, but striking. In Inisso's
chamber her appearance had flicked back and forth from age to youth, from
ugliness to beauty, and her flowing white raiments had varied similarly, from
coarse white cotton to silks embroidered with pearls and gems. Now, like her
face, her dress represented a compromise, rich but not ostentatious. Her fingers
glittered with gems, though.
She stopped abruptly, frowning at Azak. "What're you doing here, Beautiful?" She