"J. Robert King - Onslaught Cycle 1 - Onslaught" - читать интересную книгу автора (King Robert J)

Onslaught
J. Robert King
Magic: the Gathering, Onslaught Cycle, Book 1

2002

Scanned, formatted and proofed by Dreamcity
Ebook version 1.0
Release Date: December, 21, 2003
PROLOGUE: THE UNHEALING WOUND
Jeska clutched the wound in her belly and curled up in a soft bed of soil. Centuries of humus had
made this a lovely place to lie, a likely place to die.
Jeska didn't want to die.
She wasn't home. Instead of her people, tawny-skinned and golden-eyed, she was among mantis folk.
Instead of her brother Kamahl, who had carried her across the continent to be healed, she was tended by
an ape-faced horse-man.
"It's all right. It's all right," Seton soothed. "This is a place of ancient power. It will heal you, if any
place can. ..." Already, the mantis folk had told him she would not live. "The infection has gotten under
your skin, that's all. It's just skin deep."
Jeska shook her head in denial and pain, and ferns clutched her thrashing hair. All around her, trees
twisted into the sky. Birds and bushbabies and other things stared down from the green fronds and sent
forth strange whoops of laughter.
Kamahl said she would be healed here. He hadn't said she would die.
She would die.
Jeska let go of the unhealing wound and gripped the arms of the centaur. Her fingers stained his flesh
red and black. "Tell me what I must do. You are a druid, a healer. How can I live?"
Seton glanced up, seeking the support of the mantis folk. They were gone. They had withdrawn. He
looked longingly at the forest, as if he wished to join them. "I should bring back your brother."
"No! Don't abandon me. It's bad enough to die among strangers, but to die alone..."
"It's going to be all right-
"For you! Oh, what I would trade to be in your skin instead of mine. Tell me what I must do to live."
His simian face was grieved as he stared down at her. Then there was something else-terrible pain.
Seton shuddered and reached up over his shoulder. He gasped a breath and blood poured from his mouth.
Eyes fixed in horror, he toppled forward onto her.
Jeska shoved at him. "Seton! What's happening! What are you doing?"
A new voice came, a woman's voice. "He saved your life-if you have the will to claim it. Do you,
Jeska? Will you embrace a nightmare to live?"
Jeska stared over Seton's still shoulder but could not see who spoke. Her own strength failing, she
said only, "What must I do?"

CHAPTER ONE: IMAGE AND TRUTH
For some, pit fighting was about killing. Just now in the pit, a gigantipithicus ape and a griffon tore
each other apart. The air shimmered with feathers and fur, and the stands boiled with cheers. Avid faces
peered down in concentric rings from the height of the arena. The crowds loved killing.
Ixidor shook his head, averting his eyes from the arena gate. He did not wish to see the fights as they
were. He wished to see them as they should be. His hands flashed through a series of paper disks. Each
showed a contingent of noble warriors arrayed for battle, striking blows, deflecting attacks, advancing,
falling, fighting, prevailing. In pen and ink, Ixidor had rendered the scenes with such clarity they sank
away from the page as if to imprint themselves on reality. Shortly, these images would become reality-and
victory. Image magic.