"Stephen Goldin - Storyteller" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

struggled to his bedroom, panting when he reached it, and fell exhausted across the bed, where he slept
for two solid days without waking.
****
When the sleep had eased his spirit and a good meal had renewed his strength, Akar faced the difficult
task of putting his equipment back in order. For one of the very few times in his life he regretted the loss
of his eyes, for the collection and inventory process would be infinitely more difficult without sight. Nor
could he trust his servants to perform the task. Some of his implements were so sensitive they'd be
destroyed if touched by inexperienced hands; others were so powerful they could kill the person touching
them unless handled just so. As tedious as it was, Akar knew this was a chore he'd have to perform
himself.

He entered the first storeroom crawling on hands and knees, for some of the scattered objects were so
small and fragile he dared not risk crushing them underfoot. His hands scouted the ground before him,
and each time he encountered something his sensitive fingers would surround it, noting its shape and size
and texture and inscriptions, and Akar's magical senses would probe the object's very nature until he
knew precisely what it was. Only then would he hand the object to one of his sighted servants to be
cataloged and stored away properly.

Thus did Akar spend the waking hours of the following two weeks on his knees in his two upper
storerooms, searching the floors with sensitive fingers until every piece of equipment, every jar of
powder, every phial of precious liquid, every amulet, and every talisman, all were accounted for. New
lists were made and compared to old lists, until finally Akar knew everything he still had and where it
was.

Much to his relief he learned that only two items had been stolen: the flying carpet, a major loss, and the
ring of Cari, an insignificant one. Even so, he had other methods of traveling at his disposal; and the world
was filled with Jann he could enslave if he chose. What angered him most about the loss was not the
value of the items stolen, but the fact that such a brazen upstart as Jafar al-Sharif would have the nerve to
take anything at all from a man so obviously his superior. He was somewhat perplexed that a man like
Jafar could even operate the carpet, and he resolved to look over that spell again when he had time, to
see whether it was too accessible, even to charlatans.

With his castle finally back in order, Akar once again set his mind on the true problem: finding the
whereabouts of Aeshma and determining the status of the daeva king's situation. To do this, Akar
descended to his meditation chamber, the room with its floor marked in arcane symbols and mystic
designs. Here he would empty his mind of its mundane concerns and send it exploring out into the
magical web, tracing the paths and patterns within that network, looking for evidence of Aeshma's
existence.

There was no question that Aeshma was out there somewhere, but the daeva king was using his magical
powers at such a reduced level that they barely stood out among the other practitioners of the mystic
arts. Time after time Akar followed a delicate trace of magic, only to locate another wizard at the other
end. It took all his powers of observation, and not a little intuitive deduction, to track down Aeshma's
location.

He narrowed the area to a remote desert region south of Sudarr, but the trace was so weak and so far
away he could not pinpoint it further by such indirect means. More detailed information would have to
come from other sources.

Standing in the center of his conjuration room, surrounded by charms and talismans to protect him