"Clayton Emery - Card Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

the merest peasant could bring down a lord's castleтАФif he could afford the
card. Funny that now lowly Byron used Rayner's card to destroy Rayner's
house.

With a crunch and sigh, a shifting squashed stretch of wall bowed and
fell out, leaving a gap big as a window. Fresh night air washed around
Byron, the first he'd tasted in what seemed hours. But the clean air fed the
fires around him, too. Flames licked near his hands, so he squatted on his
heels, felt the warmth of the floor under his soles. The ceiling directly
below must be burning.

Brick by toppling brick, the edges of the hole enlarged to engulf the
whole wall. More bricks rained from above. Byron watched and waited,
itching to escape, but the havoc of falling debris got worse. He'd hoped to
climb through a hole and scramble spider-like down the buckled wall.
Now, he couldn't dodge outside without being crowned or having his back
broken, yet he was in danger of being buried under tons of rubble,

Then the floor buckled underfoot.

With the side of the house gone, giant roof beams lost their ancient
footings. To a tremendous roar, louder than flames, roof slates cascaded
by. Then furniture fell from the upper story: a bed, a cradle, a commode.
Byron clung to the burning rug as floorboards twisted apart like an
opened fan. Flames from below found new fodder and ate up the wall and
across the floor.

Burned or crushed, Byron thought. He should have been a cobbler's
apprentice like his mother wanted. They only worried about driving nails
into their kneecaps.

He couldn't stay. He'd have to risk jumping. But it was two stories
down onto broken bricks, splintered lumber, and razor-edged roof slates.

Gingerly, Byron inched along the floor to the lip. Tilted boards bobbed
and creaked. Flinching from cascading debris, he peered outside. The cool
breeze in his face felt like spring rain. Out in the dark street, people
shrieked and shouted as the burning house spun fiery fragments and
sparks all over the neighborhood. Bucket brigades hurled water, and
people sopped blankets to beat out hot spots.

Pushing neighbors aside with swell-headed staves were guards in
glittering helmets and breastplates. Not helping anyone, they pointed at
the burning house and shouted at one another. Byron grunted. Why were
they here?

The fragmenting floor suddenly slumped, and Byron was left standing
on air. Then falling.

Byron had a moment to wish for a flying spell, then he landed with a