"Tara K. Harper - Wolfwalker 2 - Shadow Leader" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harper Tara K)

Aranur bit back an acid comment. "The problem is, Dion,
that the masa is large enough here to attack creatures our size
and bigger. Look, see that root over there?"
She nodded. "It's as thick as my forearm."
"I saw vines as thick as that gathering on that other game
trail."
"They were not there when I went by."
"That's what I mean. Masa walks." He scowled as the trail
faded out and left him facing a wall of brittle peatrees. Only
tiny paths led through the dense growth before them, and Ara-
nur pulled his sword from the sheath with a mutter and began
hacking his way through. "Each growth circle sends out feeder
roots along the ground," he said, grunting as he slashed
through a thick clump of blackwood stems. "At the same time,
the vines creep out over nearby trees before they kill the other
plants." He took two steps and bashed another wall of sticky
brush, "When the runners find a spot with clear space beneath
the branches, they coil up like snakes on the upper limbs. Then
they wait for the feeder roots to sense pressure and move-
ment. " He slipped between the thick shrubs and made his way
for another ten meters before he had to hack at the brush again
and stop, forced to clear his blade of the clinging growth after
just two more cuts. "Then, when an animal comes by that
weighs enough to tempt the plant, the vines drop, and kapow.
You're history." He paused for a moment and looked back.
"It's a good thing we're taking another trail back. By now, that
first path's a death trap."
"But how could the trail change so fast? Even if you took
your time, I went through barely twenty minutes before you
did."
"I didn't take my time," he said shortly. "Close to the lake,
I went through barely five minutes after you. It's like this,
Dion. If the feeder roots sense more motion in one direction
than another, the plant shifts its vines over there. You and the
wolf must have been pretty tempting fare."
Hishn cocked her head at the healer, and Dion paused, hear-
ing the gray voice easily in her head. "To the right," the
wolfwalker said. "Another trail opens up."
Aranur glanced back, then to the right. "How far?"
"Five meters, maybe more."
He cleared his blade, wiping the steel on his leggings and
shoving it back in his scabbard. Clambering over the peatrees,
he forced his way through the heavy bushes till the tangled
brush suddenly halted and he stepped abruptly out on a thin
trail, just as the wolf had said. But as he saw the tracks that
littered the path, he halted. Behind him, Dion froze. She waited
silently while he examined the tracks, but even at a glance he
could see that the largest tracks were old. The last predators on
that trail had been a band of beetlelike worlags that had passed
days before, and the marks of their long, insectoid claws had