"Simon R. Green - Haven 06 - Bones of Haven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Simon R)

Winter looked at him coolly. "I lead the team, Captain Hawk, and that means I make the decisions.
We're going to take this slow and easy, one step at a time. I don't believe in rushing into things."

Hawk shrugged. "You're in charge, Winter. What's the plan?"

Winter frowned. "It's possible the rioters could have broken the magic-users out of their cells, but not
very likely; the geas should still hold them. Captain Hawk, you and your partner check out the
situation. Barber, back them up. Everyone else stays put. And Hawk, no heroics, please. Just take a
quick look around, and then come back and tell me what you saw. Got it?"

"Got it," said Hawk.

He moved slowly forward, axe held at the ready before him. Fisher moved silently at his side, and
Barber brought up the rear. Hawk would rather not have had him there, on the grounds that he didn't
want to be worrying about what Barber was doing when he should be concentrating on getting the job
done, but he couldn't say no. He didn't want to upset Winter this early in their professional relationship.
Or Barber, for that matter. He looked like he knew how to use that sword. Hawk sighed inaudibly and
concentrated on the darkening corridor ahead. Some of the lamps had gone out, and Hawk's gaze
darted from shadow to shadow as he approached the bend in the corridor. The continuing silence
seemed to grow thicker and more menacing, and Hawk had a growing conviction that someone, or
something, was waiting for him just out of sight round the corner.

He eased to a halt, his shoulder pressed against the wall just before the bend, then glanced back at
Fisher and Barber. He gestured for them to stay put, took a firm grip on his axe, and then jumped
forward to stare down the side corridor into Sorcerers' Row. It stretched away before him, all gloom
and shadow, lit only by half a dozen wall lamps at irregular intervals. The place was deserted, but all
the cell doors had been torn out of their frames and lay scattered across the floor. The open cells were
dark and silent, and reminded Hawk unpleasantly of the gap left after a tooth has been pulled. He
stayed where he was, and gestured for Fisher and Barber to join him. They did so quickly, and Fisher
whistled softly.

"We got here too late, Hawk. Whatever happened here is over."

"We don't know that yet," said Hawk. "We've still got to check the cells. Fisher, watch my back.
Barber, stay put and watch the corridor. Both ends. And let's all be very careful. I don't like the feel of
this."

"Blood has been spilled here," said Barber quietly. "A lot of it. Some of it's still pretty fresh."

"I don't see any blood," said Fisher.

"I can smell it," said Barber.

Hawk and Fisher looked at each other briefly, and then moved cautiously towards the first cell. Fisher
took one of the lamps from its niche in the wall and held it up to give Hawk more light. He grunted
acknowledgment, and glanced down at the solid steel door lying warped and twisted on the floor
before him. At first he thought it must have been buckled by some form of intense heat, but there was
no trace of any melting or scorching on the metal. The door was a good two inches thick. Hawk didn't
want to think about the kind of strength that could warp that thickness of steel.