"Simon Hawke - Sorcerer 2 - The Inadequate Adept" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

"It has a tail?" said Teddy with alarm.

Warrick rolled his eyes. "Oh, never mind. Fetch me that stack of scrolls over there."

Teddy put down his broom and went over to the stack of ancient scrolls Warrick had indicated. "All of
them, Master?"

"Aye, all of them. Somewhere, there has to be an incantation that will allow me to summon up this
narrator and compel him to do my bidding. I shall not rest until I find it."

Fortunately, Warrick would never find such a spell, because your faithful narrator has no intention of
writing it into the plot. So there.
Warrick slammed his fist down on the table, then angrily swept all the scrolls onto the floor, making
Teddy jump back in fear.

"There shall be a reckoning," he said, through gritted teeth. "You mark me well."

"But, Master, you said to fetch the scrolls!"

"Blast it, Teddy, I wasn't speaking to you!"

"Oh," said Teddy. "Forgive me, Master, I thought-"

"Don't think!"

"Yes, Master. I mean, no, Master, I shan't."

Warrick shut his eyes in patient suffering. "Of all the familiars I could have chosen, I had to pick a stupid
troll. I could have had a nice black cat, or an intelligent owl, perhaps, but nooooo...."

Teddy looked stricken. He sniffled, men waddled back to his grubby little corner in the sorcerer's
sanctorum, where he sat all hunched up, hugging his hairy little knees to his chest and pouting.

"I hate the narrator," he mumbled to himself. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!"

A large glass beaker filled with noxious fluid suddenly fell off the shelf above where Teddy sat and
shattered on his head, covering him with foul-smelling ooze.

"Teddy!" Warrick shouted.

With a whimper, the little troll bolted out the door.



CHAPTER TWO

The stone keep looked decidedly odd with the solar collectors mounted in place. Angling up from the
roof of the lower section of the keep, the collectors ran up to the tower, just below the fourth floor. Mick
had been puzzled by the project from the very start, and thought that the collectors looked "bloody
peculiar," but Bloody Bob, the immense old brigand who was Brewster's self-appointed "loyal retainer,"