"James Lowder - The Harpers 05 - The Ring of Winter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowder James)

"Oh no!" Artus opened the collar of his coat and tried to remove the chain. It wouldn't budge.
"Leave it alone, Artus."
"But we can't leave meтАФ"
"I need to think about this for a moment," the mage said. "Now, be a good soldier and stand down." His
command had a biting edge, one gained from years in the Cormyrian army. Though the young man's frown
deepened, he did as he was told.
Pontifax nodded and studied the medallion for a time. "Does it burn where it touches your skin?"
"No."
"Tingle?"
"No."
"Hmmmm." The mage steepled his fingers and stared at the silver disk. Then he stepped forward,
murmured a few words of magic, and grabbed the medallion's edge. Nothing happened.
That experiment complete, Pontifax dusted a patch of floor and sat down. "The statue itself is gone, so it
must have transformed somehow. I don't think it's got a curse on it, so the chain probably won't constrict
until it strangles you or some such grisly thing. Still, the enchantment's not altogether friendly. It must have
warped my spell somehow, just to make you grow."
Artus examined the medallion. "At least that little stunt frightened away the creature."
Pontifax nodded. "As I said, I don't think the thing's cursed. Still, it would be best if we found a wizard
more familiar with Mulhorandi magic before we try to remove it."
"And my size?"
"Will probably be back to normal in a little while, so be a good soldier and wait it out." He paused,
considering his next question carefully before asking it. "Has the possibility crossed your mind that there
might be another curse at work here?"
"The Curse of the Ring is a myth, Pontifax," Artus snapped. His brown eyes narrowed and darkened,
taking on the color of a hard-packed earthen road. "You should know that by now. We've been hunting for
the Ring of Winter for almost ten years. If rumors of the curse were true, you'd think it would have caught
up to us by now."
Silence hung heavy in the chamber. Ostensibly they had come to the ruined keep, set in the rough
foothills of northwestern Cormyr known as the Stonelands, to recover artifacts. Whatever ancient coins or
jewelry, vases or artwork they found would then be sold to King Azoun IV for a sizeable profit. Yet the
driving motivation for Artus's trek to the desolate and dangerous ruins was the Ring of Winter. Over the
past decade, the search for that almost mythical band of metal had become the motivation for the young
man's entire life.
All that was known for certain of the ring had been gleaned from ancient histories. It had been forged
by a mage of staggering power at a time when the countries that now make up the continent of Faerun
were little more than scattered villages. Throughout the ages, men and women had hunted it, for it was
rumored to grant unbelievable powers to the person wielding it. Exactly what those powers were varied
from legend to legend, but every account agreed upon two things: the Ring of Winter contained the magical
might to bring an age of ice down upon Faerun, and the ring granted immortality to anyone who wore it.
"The 'mythical' curse, as you call it, has caught up with everyone who has ever hunted the ring,"
Pontifax ventured at last. "Someone beloved of the man or woman who hunts the ring died. Princess
Alusair lost her one true love a few days after deciding to search for the ring." He unfurled one stubby
finger.
"Her lover was killed by bounty hunters trying to return her to her father," Artus scoffed.
"A curse uses many agents," the mage countered. "What of Gareth of Waterdeep? He lost his whole
family, every single person who could carry on his name." He unfurled another finger, then two more. "And
there's Kelemvor Lyonsbane. He thought he'd found the ring, but all he'd discovered was a deceitful ice
creature that showed him a simple band of gold and killed most of his friends. And then there'sтАФ"
"But what about that dark-hearted bastard, Cyric?" Artus interrupted.
Pontifax started, then made a gesture meant to ward off evil. "For the sake of your soul, Artus, watch