"Books - David Eddings - Belgarath the Sorcerer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

I didn't really have time to sort it out. Evening had fallen over the
empty city, and my companion and I were still sniffing around in the
empty buildings when a sudden bellow shattered the silence, a bellow
that was coming from the sky. I went to the doorway of the building
we'd been searching and looked up.

The light wasn't really very good, but it was good enough for me to see
that huge shape outlined against the evening sky.

It was the dragon, and her great wings were clawing at the sky and she
was belching clouds of sooty fire with every bellow.

Notice that I speak of her in the singular and the feminine. This is
no indication of any great perception on my part, since there was only
one dragon in the entire world, and she was female. The two males the
Gods had created had killed each other during the first mating season.
I had always felt rather sorry for her, but not this time. She, like
the Hrulgin and the Algroths, was intent on killing things, but she was
too stupid to be selective. She'd burn anything that moved.

Moreover, Torak had added a modification to the dragons when he and his
brothers were creating them. They were totally immune to anything I
might have been able to do to them with the Will and the Word.

"One would be more content if you would do something about that,"

the wolf told me.

"I am thinking about it," I replied.

"Think faster. The bird is returning."

Her faith in me was touching, but it didn't help very much. I quickly
ran over the dragon's characteristics in my mind. She was
invulnerable, she was stupid, and she was lonely. Those last two
clicked together in my mind. I loped to the edge of the city, focused
my will on a thicket a few miles south of the mountain, and set fire to
it.

The dragon screeched and swooped off toward my fire, belching out her
own flames as she went.

"One wonders why you did that."

"Fire is a part of the mating ritual of her kind."

"How remarkable. Most birds mate in the spring."

"She is not exactly a bird. One thinks that we should leave these