"Raymond E. Feist - Riftwar 3 - A Darkness at Sethanon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

twined energies of every living thing in this forest, taken
and lightly turned, never forced, toward the needs of the
community. Thus the Spellweavers used their powers:
gently, but persistently, spinning the fibre of these ever
present natural energies into a thread of magic that could
be used. He touched the magic with his mind and he
knew. He knew his powers were growing beyond human
understanding, becoming godlike in Comparison to what
he had once thought were the limits of his talents. He
had mastered much in the passing year, yet he knew
there was much more to learn. Still, with his tutoring he
now had the means to find other sources of knowledge.
The secrets known to few but the greatest masters - to
pass between worlds by strength of will, to move through
time, and even to cheat death - he now understood were
possible. And with that understanding, he knew he
would someday discover the means of mastering those
secrets. If he was granted enough time. And time was at
a premium. The leaves of the trees echoed the rustle of
the' distant darkwind. The man in black set dark eyes
upon the ancient being floating before him, as both
withdrew their minds from the matrix. Speaking by
strength of mind, the man in black said, So soon, Acaila.?
The other smiled, and pale blue eyes shone forth with
a light of their own, a light which when first seen had
Startled the man in black. Now he knew that light came
from a deep power beyond any he had known in any
mortal save one. But this was a different power, not the
astonishing might of that other but the soothing, healing
power of life, love, and serenity. This being was truly
one with all around him. To gaze into the glowing eyes
was to be made whole, and his smile was a comfort to
see. But the thoughts that crossed the distance between
the two as they gently floated earthward were troubled.
It has been a year. It would have served us all had we
more time, but time passes as it will, and it may be that
you are ready. Then with a texture of thought the black-
robed man had come to understand was humour, he
added aloud, "But ready or unready, it is time.'
The others rose as one and for a silent moment the
black-clad one felt their minds join with his, in a final
farewell.They were sending him back to where a struggle
was under way, a struggle in which he was to play a vital


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part. But they were sending him with much more than he
had possessed when he had come to them. He felt the