"William Forstchen - Magic The Gathering - Arena" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forstchen William R)

Garth lowered his head, extending his arms, gathering in his thoughts, calming them, focusing,
remembering and not remembering, clearing away all. He reached outward, probing, looking toward the
otherтАЩs heart, sensing and knowing until all things dropped away and the land and waters within him were
as clear as crystalline snow. The mana, the source of all power of spells, was ready.
He stepped into the circle and looked up.

Orange stepped forward as well. Garth did nothing, waiting.

He did not need to look up to know that a cloud was forming over the circle again, darkening the street,
and though he heard the gasp of the crowd, he heard it not. He could feel the tension, the strength
drawing out of the Orange fighter, focusing on the power he was drawing upon from distant lands and
placesтАФthe mana which he controlledтАФbringing that power into the circle to serve his will. The fireball
that Orange was creating started to build with a terrible intensity, bathing the street corner in a hellish
light.

Garth looked up and extended his hand.

Instantly another cloud formed above the one created by Orange. A cold gust swept outward. The
street was as dark as night. Flickers of light flashed and then there was a swirling of white. Snow, a
blizzard of snow, coiled and twisted, devouring the cloud created by Orange. There was a howling of
wind and then, in an instant, all disappeared and the evening sunlight again filled the narrow street,
reflecting off the sheets of ice that now caked the sides of the buildings. Instantly they started to melt, the
cold ice breaking off, showering down on the mob, who covered their heads with their arms.

As the tinkling of broken ice drifted away the street was silent. A scattering of applause and cheers
broke out, especially from those who had wagered a mere copper and now would have a silver in their
pockets. They had found a new hero and cheered lustily, while those who had thought even that bet to
be a waste silently cursed themselves for not having the foresight to play. Those who had lost everything
in the first duel were ecstatic as well, since the source of their losing had been defeated.

Garth fixed the stunned Orange fighter with his gaze.

тАЬI believe your spell of fireball is now mine,тАЭ Garth said quietly.

Okmark looked at him, gape mouthed.

Garth stood silent, waiting.

Okmark looked over at the gambler, whose expression was one of seething fury as the mob started to
close in on him to claim their winnings. Okmark looked back at Garth.

Reaching to the dagger hanging from his belt, Okmark pulled it out and flung it so that it plunged into the
ground in the center of the circle.

тАЬTo the death,тАЭ Okmark hissed.

Garth looked at him and said nothing.

тАЬTo the death, damn you!тАЭ