"Raymond E. Feist - Darkwar 3 - Wrath of a Mad God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

 Miranda took another deep breath, and tried to see if what she had just learned from her captors was
true or merely grasping at vain hope. She forced her mind to work in a new fashion, applying a minor
spell, saying it so softly there was barely any sound. And the pain slowly leached away! At last she had
discovered what she had sought.

She closed her eyes, reclaiming the image she had gained while being tortured. She knew intuitively that
she had found something critically important, but she was still uncertain of exactly what it was. For an
instant she wished she could somehow communicate with Pug or his companion Nakor, for both had
keen insights into the nature of magic, down to the very bedrock of the energies used by magicians тАУ
what Nakor insisting on calling 'stuff'. She smiled slightly and took another deep breath. She would have
laughed had she not been in so much discomfort.

Nakor would be delighted. Her newfound intelligence on this realm of the Dasati was something he
would take great pleasure in: the 'stuff of this realm was similar to those energies familiar to every
magician on Sorcerer's Isle, but it wasтАж how would Nakor put it, she wondered? It was bent. It was as
if the energies wanted to move at right angles to what she knew. She felt as if she were learning to walk
all over again, only this time she had to think 'sideways' to move forward.

She reached out with her mind and let mental 'fingers' touch the buckles of her restraints. It took almost
no effort for her to unfasten them. Quickly she freed herself.

Sitting up, she flexed shoulders, back and legs, feeling circulation returning and a soreness that seemed to
run to her marrow. Miranda had lived a lifetime measured in centuries, but she looked no more than forty
years of age. She was slender, but surprisingly strong, for she took delight in walking the hills on
Sorcerer's Isle and taking long swims in the sea. Her dark hair was dusted with a little grey, and her dark
eyes were clear and youthful. The effects of magic, she had come to believe, gave a long life to certain
practitioners.

She took another deep breath. The churning in her stomach subsided. At least the Dasati hadn't used hot
irons or sharp implements, being content for the time being merely to beat her when they thought it might
provide better information.

If she ever saw Nakor again she'd kiss him, for without his insistence that magic was somehow
composed of a fundamental energy, she would never have understood what made it work differently here
within the Dasati realmтАж

She was certain she was still on Kelewan, in the black energy sphere she had observed moments before
she was captured. This 'room' was nothing more than a small compartment and high above was an inky
void, or at least a ceiling so high it vanished into the gloom. She glanced around, studying what she should
see clearly, now that she wasn't lashed to the slab. The enclosure was curtained off, but she could see the
curve of the dome rising above her head, for the stanchions and rods holding the curtains were only about
ten feet high. The material was uniformly dark grey-blue in colour, if she could judge from the light in the
room, a pulsing glow from an odd-looking grey stone placed upon a table nearby. She closed her eyes
and let her mind extend and after a few seconds she encountered what could only be the shell of the
sphere.

How then, she wondered, had the familiar rules of magic been replaced by Dasati rules? It was as if they
brought their own world with themтАж

She stood up. Suddenly she understood. They weren't just going to invade Kelewan; they were going to