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

The rock slid aside.

"Come in, boy," the voice said.

"Stand not in the weather like some befuddled calf. It is quite cold."
Had he only just now noticed that?

I went inside what appeared to be some kind of vestibule with nothing
in it but a stone staircase winding upward. Oddly, it wasn't dark,
though I couldn't see exactly where the light came from.

"Close the door, boy."

"How?"

"How didst thou open it?"

I turned to face that gaping opening, and, quite proud of myself, I
commanded,

"Close!" At the sound of my voice, the rock slid shut with a grinding
sound that chilled my blood even more than the fierce storm outside. I
was trapped! My momentary panic passed as I suddenly realized that I
was dry for the first time in days. There wasn't even a puddle around
my feet! Something strange was going on here.

"Come up, boy," the voice commanded.

What choice did I have? I mounted the stone steps worn with countless
centuries of footfalls and spiraled my way up and up, only a little bit
afraid. The tower was very high, and the climbing took me a long
time.

At the top was a chamber filled with wonders. I looked at things such
as I'd never seen before. I was still young and not, at the time,
above thoughts of theft. Larceny seethed in my grubby little soul. I'm
sure that Polgara will find that particular admission entertaining.

Near a fire--which burned, I observed, without fuel of any kind--sat a
man who seemed most incredibly ancient, but somehow familiar, though I
couldn't seem to place him. His beard was long and full and as white
as the snow that had so nearly killed me--but his eyes were eternally
young. I think it might have been the eyes that seemed so familiar to
me.

"Well, boy," he said, "hast thou decided not to die?"

"Not if it isn't necessary," I said bravely, still cataloging the
wonders of the chamber.