"C. S. Friedman - Coldfire 3 - Crown of Shadows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friedman C. S)

such day as we find a way to destroy this demon, or banish him forever from the realms of man. Your
most humble and obedient

"Another report-in-absence?"
It was Tarrant, standing in the doorway of his cabin. Damien glared at him, a look meant to communicate
that he needed no reminder about his last letter to the Patriarch, or the trouble it might get him into. He
had sent it as a substitute for a personal audience, and when the Holy Father finally got hold of him, there
was going to be hell to pay for that.

"Not this time," he said shortly. He finished the letter, signed it quickly, and put it aside. There was no
denying that he deserved the Patriarch's wrath. The only question was how long it would last, and what
form it would take. And whether or not the Holy Father would understand that their entire world was at
risk now, and personal venom must take second place to martial expediency if the Church was to
triumph.

"You're delivering it yourself, then?"

"No real alternative, is there?" There was an edge to his voice that he couldn't disguise. "I have to go
back. You know that."

Go home, the demon Karril had urged. Go home as soon as you can. If you stay away, if you give
Calesta time to work... then the world you return to may not be the same as the one you left.

That was over a year ago. What if it was too late already?

"You're afraid," the Hunter mused.

Anger welled up inside him suddenly, a rage that was ten months in the making. "Damn right!" he spat.
"And there you are right on schedule to revel in it." The pent-up fury of a whole voyage was pouring out
of him, and he had no way to stop it. "What makes you better than this Iezu we're fighting? What makes
you more worthy of life than he is? I can't seem to remember just now."

If his challenge angered the Hunter-or awakened any other emotion within him-the man damn well

didn't show it. "Random invective doesn't suit you, Vryce." His tone was cool, maddeningly controlled.
"If the girl's death bothers you that much, then say so."

He drew in a sharp breath. "You killed her."

"I offered her a bargain which she chose to accept. It was her own choice, from start to finish. You seem
to forget that. I never interfered with her freedom of will, or made any attempt to coerce her into service.
You know that. She knew what my needs were and she agreed to meet them. If she had survived this
trip, she would have been well rewarded for her efforts. The fact that she chose to end our contract-"

"To kill herself! To take her own life! Those are the words," he choked out, "-not some vapid
euphemism. You killed that girl as surely as if you cut her throat with your own hands. You."

"She knew what I was," he said quietly. "As do you. And I suggest you come to terms with that
knowledge before we reach port, Reverend Vryce. Our enemy is dangerous enough as it is; if we allow