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

gleaming scales connected by a network of slender silver veining. It was a
tragedy that those same wings would probably be the indirect cause of the
DragonтАЩs death. Lacking the energy of sunlight for the broad surfaces to
absorb, Aethon was slowly starving. Because of the climatic upheavals in
the last few months, his people were close to suffering the same fate. He was
on his way to Gendival, the Loremaster headquarters and the only place that
Veldan could truly call home, to confer with Cergorn, the senior Loremaster
of the Shadowleague. It was VeldanтАЩs duty to see that the Dragon got there
safely.
During the previous night they had used the cover of darkness to sneak
undetected past Tiarond, CallisioraтАЩs capital. Veldan was glad sheтАЩd been
unable to see the place this time around. She doubted that the current
climatic conditions had been kind to the city or its inhabitants. She preferred
to remember it as she had known it last: austerely beautiful, with its sloping
streets zigzagging between steep terraces carved into the mountainside; the
enclosing walls, the towers, and the greater buildings all crafted with care
and skill from the warm golden stone so common in this area.
Tiarond was nestled within a loop of the river, between two protective spurs
of Mount Chaikar, or the Throne, in local parlance. The city clung to the
mountainтАЩs face, forming a roughly triangular shape that followed the
natural lie of the concavity between the two converging spurs. At the apex,
high up where the spurs converged, was a narrow cleft, not much wider than
Kazairl was long, that formed a tunnel into a secret, sequestered gorge
embraced by towering cliffs. This heart-shaped canyon was the core of
Tiarond, and housed the Temple of Myrial and the Holy City of the
GodтАФwho didnтАЩt seem to be cooperating, Veldan thought bitterly, to help us
save this poor, drowned land.
She sighed. They were so close to success now, but still so far away. If we
can just make it over the Snaketail Pass, weтАЩll only have another dayтАЩs
travelтАФand weтАЩll be home. Aethon can talk to my masters. Maybe the
climate in Gendival will be betterтАж
тАЬVeldan, can we rest a while?тАЭ The DragonтАЩs mental tones sounded faint
and faded.
Damn, thought Veldan. It was hard to guess the hour, because of the heavy
overcast, but she knew the sun must be at least an hour or two past the
zenith. They had to make it over the top of the pass and into shelter on the
other side before night set in! In framing a reply, she tried to soften the
brutal truthтАФthat if they stopped now, he would never move again. тАЬIтАЩm

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THE HEART OF MYRIAL - SHADOWLEAGUE 1 - MAGGIE FUREY

sorry, Aethon. but you must try to go a little farther. WeтАЩve come so far
nowтАФitтАЩs only another mile or two. Once we make the head of the pass,
weтАЩll rest, I promise.тАЭ
тАЬVery wellтАФIтАЩll try. I bow to your experience.тАЭ The DragonтАЩs thought was
accompanied by a weary sigh, and Veldan felt her heart clench with pity.
They had almost reached the tree line now, and were passing into the heavy
layer of cloud that smothered the high peaks. Veldan shivered again. The
Snaketail Pass was never the most wholesome of spots, but this time it