"Mercedes Lackey - Tregarde 2 - Burning Water" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

And then Mark heard the sound of his footsteps fleeing toward the back door. A splintery crash
marked the slamming of the porch door against the wallтАФthen Tim followed Phil, backing put slowly,
unable to take his eyes off the apparition. Tim was not screaming, he was giggling hysterically. Quasi held
out a few moments longer, but when the thing turned its horrible eyes on him, Quasi howled like a mad
dog and followed the other two.
Mark fought the fascination as best he could, but found himself taking a slow, deliberate step
toward the thingтАФthen anotherтАФand anotherтАФ
He was too frightened to cry out, too terrified even to pray. He could only fight against the pull,
and know his fight would be, in the end, useless.
The creature in the vortex chuckled wetly, and Mark felt his whole self become one inarticulate
and soundless cry for help.
AndтАФlike a miracleтАФhelp arrived.
The front door literally exploded inwards, with a force that dwarfed the initial explosion that had
brought the thing, and the compulsion and the whirlwind weakened as the thing turned its attention to the
newcomer.
LightтАФlight against the awful darkness.
Brilliant, clean white light poured in the open portal. Standing in the lightтАФor had she brought the
light with her?тАФwas a young woman. A very angry young woman.
Some unencumbered part of his mind recognized her as one of Quasi's upstairs neighbors.
Her waist-length hair stood out from her head as if she had taken hold of a static generator. She
was wearing ballet slippers, a leotard, and an ancient Japanese kimono that whipped wildly about her in
the screaming wind.
She was holding what could only be a broadsword.
The sword was glowing. Blue-green flames flickered all up and down the blade. The thing in the
vortex saw that, and snarled at her.
The girl sidestepped into the room, slowly; she looked like she knew exactly what she was doing.
She was holding the sword in both hands, and Mark had the relieved feeling that this was not the first time
she had fought this particular battle. She eased along the edge of the diagram until she stood a few feet
from MarkтАФ
Then she suddenly dashed the remaining few feet toward him and slashed the fiery blade down
into the space between him and the thing, as if she was cutting a line that was binding him and the thing
together.
The compulsion to join the thing snapped so abruptly that he stumbled backwards into the wall.
The girl was shouting words that he couldn't quite make outтАФand didn't really want toтАФabove
the howling of the wind and the higher wailing of the apparition in the vortex. He crouched and covered
his ears with both hands, unable to look away. She gestured with the sword, drawing fiery lines in the air
between herself and the creature, lines that glowed and continued to hang suspended before her long after
any afterimage should have faded. The thing's wailing grew in intensityтАФand so did the sucking wind.
Mark huddled against the wall, his heart pounding with absolute panic.
Then the girl changed her stance, balancing the pommel of her sword in her hand as if the whole
massive piece of metal was nothing more than an oversized throwing-knife.
Mark stared at that; the back of his head was insisting that you couldn't do that, but his eyes were
telling him that she was, and logic be damned.
She held it that way for only an instantтАФthen cast it, throwing it as if it had no weight at all,
aiming it at the darkness between the thing's eyes.
There was a third explosion and a flash of light that left Mark half blinded and half-deafened, and
not a little stunned.
When he finally came to himself again, the electric lights were back on. There was an awful
stench filling the apartment, like burned and rotting meat.
There was nothing in the middle of the room except a blackened spot in the center of the rug, a