"Kuttner, Henry - The Dark World - uc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

Yellow tusks threatened me through the gray mists.

The shape-changer made a wordless noise in his throatЧ the guttural sound a beast might make. Wolf-cry! A wolf mask glared into mine!

The smoke swam away. The illusionЧillusion?Чwas gone. Matholch, his face relaxing from its snarling lines, pulled gently free from my grip.

"YouЧstartled me, Lord Ganelon," he said smoothly. "But I think that I have had a question answered, whether or not these herbsЧ" He nodded toward the overturned brazier. "Чhad anything to do with it."

I turned toward the doorway.

"Wait,"'Matholch said. "I took something from you, a while ago."

I stopped.

The red-beard came toward me, holding out a weaponЧa bared sword.

"I took this from you when we passed through the Need-fire," he said. "It is yours."

I accepted the blade.

Again I moved toward the curtained archway.

Behind me Matholch spoke.

"We are not enemies yet, Ganelon," he said gently. "And if you are wise, you will not forget my warning. Do not go to Caer Llyr."

I went out. Holding the sword, I hurried down the winding stairway. My feet found their path without conscious guidance. TheЧintruderЧin my brain was still strong. A palimpsest. And the blurred, erased writing was becoming visible, as though treated with some strong chemical.

The writing that was my lost memory.

The castleЧhow did I know it was a castle?Чwas a labyrinth. Twice I passed silent soldiers standing guard, with a familiar shadow of fear in thefteyesЧa shadow that, I thought, deepened as they saw me.

I went on, hurrying along a pale-amber hallway. I brushed aside a golden curtain and stepped into an oval room, dome-ceilinged, walled with pale, silken draperies. A fountain spurted, its spray cool on my cheek. Across the chamber, an archway showed the outlines of leafy branches beyond.

I went on through the arch. I stepped out into a walled garden. A garden of exotic flowers and bizarre trees.

The blooms were a riot of patternless color, like glowing jewels against the dark earth. Ruby and amethyst, crystal-clear and milky white, silver and gold and emerald, the flowers made a motionless carpet. But the trees were not motionless.

Twisted and gnarled as oaks, their black boles and branches were veiled by a luxuriant cloud of leafage, virulent green.

A stir of movement rippled through that green curtain. The trees roused to awareness.

I saw the black branches twist and writhe slowlyЧ

Satisfied, their vigilance relaxed. They were motionless again. TheyЧknew me.

Beyond that evil orchard the dark sky made the glowing ember of the sun more brilliant by contrast.

The trees stirred again.