"Maggie Furey - Shadowleague 1 - The Heart of Myrial" - читать интересную книгу автора (Furey Maggie)

taut string of a bow. His heart sank as the ring of light that rimmed the Eye
began to flicker fitfully, some sections flaring with a lurid yellow light while
others went dark entirely. Despite his frantic, fervent prayers, the pupil of
the Eye remained blank, dark, and dead. The Voice of Myrial became a
snarling buzz that rose to a discordant shriek, forcing Zavahl to clamp his
hands over his agonized ears.
As soon as he ceased to touch the smooth plate on the surface of the plinth,
the sound and light cut off with shocking abruptness. The darkness of the
void dropped down around the Hierarch like a smothering cloak. Sick with
disappointment and despair, aching with the aftermath of tension as though
every inch of his body had been beaten, Zavahl shuffled back along the
perilous bridge like an old, old man.
Back in the Temple, he shielded his eyes from the blaze of gold and jewels,
their glittering magnificence made cheap and tawdry by the unearthly
splendor of MyrialтАЩs Eye. Zavahl put on his shoes and took up the diadem of
the Hierarch. He hesitated, his hands arrested in the very motion of placing
the circlet upon his brow. What right have I to wear this? he thought. ItтАЩs
more than clear by now that Myrial has turned His back on me. Somehow I
have erred, and the whole of Callisiora is paying the price of my
mistakesтАФbut not for much longer.
ZavahlтАЩs hands shook as he put on the diadem. In two nights it would be the
Autumn Hallows, one of the four great turning points of the wheel of
CallisioraтАЩs year. It marked the start of winterтАЩs ruleтАФand the feast-night of
the Dead. In the realmтАЩs barbaric past, a sacrifice had been made on each
Eve of the DeadтАФa messenger to intercede with Myrial on behalf of the
living, so that the God would protect his people and see them safely through
the long, hard winter ahead.
A chill struck through the HierarchтАФcold fingers reaching out from an open
grave. This year, blood must be shed again, to save the land from ruin. If
Myrial failed to intercede in two short days, Zavahl, as Hierarch, must
become the Great Sacrifice on the Eve of the DeadтАФboth Victim and Savior
to restore the life of the land.
тАЬAh, Hierarch.тАЭ The dry voice came from behind Zavahl, making him start


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THE HEART OF MYRIAL - SHADOWLEAGUE 1 - MAGGIE FUREY

violently. тАЬSo thatтАЩs where youтАЩve been hiding. Are your pleas to the god
still falling on deaf ears?тАЭ
тАЬYou are a warrior, Lord Blade,тАЭ Zavahl responded coldly. He glared at the
tall newcomer, whose gleaming insignia, cropped grey hair, and stern,
upright bearing proclaimed him as the leader of MyrialтАЩs Holy Warriors.
тАЬYou may fancy yourself as a scholar, but perhaps you should leave the
matters of the gods to those who are best qualified to deal with them.тАЭ
BladeтАЩs mouth quirked in cold amusement. тАЬAh, I stand corrected, Lord
Hierarch. And that would be you, I take it? Judging from the gossip in the
marketplace, your success at gaining MyrialтАЩs ear over the last few months
has certainly impressed your subjects.тАЭ
Zavahl ground his teeth. There was no possible answer he could makeтАФand