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

for good measure. I was ten miles away when it happened, and I could
hear his shrieks as clearly as if he'd been standing next to me.

The really dreadful part of the whole business lies in the fact that,
unlike humans, the Gods don't heal. We expect a few cuts, bruises, and
abrasions as we go through life; they don't. Healing is built into us.
The Gods aren't supposed to need it.

After he cracked the world, Torak definitely needed healing. It's
entirely probable that he felt that first searing touch of fire from
the moment he cracked the world until that awful night some five
thousand years later when, stricken, he cried out to his mother.

The earth shrieked and groaned as the power of the Orb and the will of
Torak burst the plain asunder, and, with a roar like ten thousand
thunders, the sea rushed in to explode and seethe in a broad, foaming
band between us and the Children of the Dragon God. The cracked land
sank beneath our feet, and the mocking sea pursued us, swallowing the
plain and the villages and the cities that lay upon it. Then it was
that Gara, the village of my birth, was lost forever, and that fair,
sparkling river I so loved was drowned beneath the endlessly rolling
sea.

A great cry went up from the hosts of mankind, for indeed the lands of
most of them were swallowed up by the sea that Torak had let in.

"How remarkable," the young she-wolf at my side observed.

"You say that overmuch," I told her sharply, stung by my own griefs.

Her casual dismissal of the catastrophe we'd just witnessed seemed a
little understated and more than a little cold-blooded.

"Do you not find it remarkable?" she asked me quite calmly. How are
you going to argue with a wolf?

"I do," I replied, "but one should not say that too often, lest one be
thought simple." It was a spiteful thing to say, I'll grant you, but
her calm indifference to the death of over half my species offended me.
Over the years I've come to realize that my helpless irritation with
her quirks is one of the keystones of our relationship.

She sniffed. That's a maddening trait of hers.

"I will say as I wish to say," she told me with that infuriating
superiority of all females.

"You need not listen if it does not please you, and if you choose to
think me simple, that is your concern--and your mistake."