"Ed Greenwood - Band of Four 04 - The Dragon's Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenwood Ed)

Arthroon, from Fallingtree. The village is small, and accordingly I've been
careful to enspell only a select few wine decanters and buckets of water. The
results thus far are: success in every attempt. I'll soon be able to report
fully on dosages and amounts of various sorts of drink to achieve specific
results. As with all such castings, one must follow specific instructions or
practice much to acquire a feel for the task."
The Fangmaster nodded, and Arthroon sat down again. "We've been absent from
our holds and posts around the Vale long enough," Caronthom said firmly, "so
let this council now entertain any other questions, concerns, or desires of
the Brethren. Speak, Brothers, ere we break this assembly and confer upon each
of you a scroll that holds the venom-spell."
No one rose, but an eager restlessness fell upon the benches. More than one
priest leaned forward as if the promised scrolls could be snatched from empty
air as a hawk takes a field rat. Caronthom watched, and smiled again. "Then
let this council be at an end. Raunthur?"
The elder priest who was called the Wise strode to a door that glowed
briefly as he placed his hand on it and then groaned slowly open by itself.
"Scrolls, one to each," he said curtly. "No pushing."
Had any priest there dared to demonstrate so fatal a failing as a curious
eye, he might have seen a younger priest clutching his precious scroll stride
swiftly down a dark and little-used passage, duck through a lightless door and
up a stair, and then pass through another door that glowed with
guardian-spells every bit as powerful as those Raunthur had used to safeguard
the scrolls. Once through it, the young priest extended an arm that reached a
full three feet farther than his other armтАФor the arm of any humanтАФshould have
been able to, and pushed at one end of a particular block in the stone wall.
It pivoted, swinging open to reveal a cavity behind, and into this he thrust
the scroll-and after it, his Serpent-robes.
Once the block was closed again, the naked priest turned away, his face and
body sliding into something quite different than it had been. Again he reached
out an arm that became much longer than any human arm had any right to be, and
opened another pivoting block. A smock, trews, and boots were plucked into
view and donned, deft fingers sketched guardian spells over both blocks and
the inside of the door that had allowed admittance to this passage, and a farm
laborer took six steps, made a particular gesture, and caused a whirlwind of
coiling light to spiral into being in the empty air. Through it he steppedтАФand
vanished, the spiral eating itself in his wake.
Only then did a dark, unseen watching eye floating high in one corner of the
passage end blink twice, and perform its own vanishing act.
Its far end winked out in another chamber not far away, where another priest
stood holding the scroll he'd just been given. "Well, well," he murmured. "A
dangerous shapeshifter amongst us. Dear me. Something will have to be done
about that."
His face melted and slid into quite a different visage. "Competition can be
so harmful."
"Remind me," Hawkril rumbled, "why we must go riding blindly through the
Vale again, offering ourselves as targets to all, to search out Dwaerindim.
Can't you just use your Stone to seek them from afar?"
Embra sighed. "I can, yes, but unless the bearer of a Dwaer uses it for a
very great magic, or is in the act of calling forth its power, or knows no