"George R. R. Martin - In the House of the Worm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

Groff fixed his ax to his belt, gripped the rope with both huge hands, and swung into the plunging dark.
├втВм┼УFollow,├втВмтАв he ordered; then, hand under hand, he vanished below. Riess looked at Annelyn, his
eyes frightened, questioning.

"Spidersilk, no doubt,├втВмтАв Annelyn said. ├втВм┼УIt will be strong. Put out the torch and come after.├втВмтАв
Then he, too, took the jerking rope.

The shaft was warm, but not as warm as Annelyn had imagined; he did not burn. It was also narrower
than he had thought; when he grew tired, he could brace his knees against one side and his back against
the other, resting for a moment. The rope had a life of its own, with Groff climbing below him and Riess
above, but it was strong and new and easy to hold onto.

Finally, his feet kicked free; another level had been reached, and another grid was gone. Groff grabbed
him and helped him out, and both of them helped struggling, panting Riess.

They were in a small junction, where three tunnels met at the huge metal doors of a great chamber. But
Annelyn saw in a glance that the rope was the only way here; all three burrows were bricked-in. It was
easy to see; the chamber doors were open, and light streamed out.

They watched from the shadows near the air duct, Groff crouching low with his ax in hand, Annelyn
drawing his rapier.

The chamber was a large one, perhaps the size of the Chamber of Obsidian; there all resemblance
ended. Inside, the Meatbringer had mounted a throne, firing two torches that slanted from brackets atop
the backrest. Their flickering light mingled with a stranger radiance, a glowering purplish gleam that came
from huge fungus-encrusted globes along the walls. Vermyllar was visible, sobbing incoherently,
manacled to a wheeled bed close to the Meatbringer. From time to time his body shook as he strained
fitfully against the shackles that held him down, but his captor ignored his struggles.
The rest of the chamber, in the curious mixed light, was like nothing Annelyn had ever encountered
before. The walls were metal, time-eaten, rust-eaten, yet still bright in places. Panels of glass studded the
high, dark flanks; a million tiny windows├втВмтАЭmost of them broken├втВмтАЭwinked at the flames. Along the side
walls, fat transparent bubbles swelled obscenely near the ceiling. Some of these were covered by
dripping, glowing growth; others were dry and broken; still others seemed full of some faintly moving
fluid. A gulf of shadows and chaos lay between the walls. There were a dozen wheeled beds like the one
Vermyllar was bound to, four huge pillars that rose to the ceiling amid a web of metal ropes and bars, a
heavy tank of the sort the yaga-la-hai used for breeding foodworms, piles of clothing (some piles fresh,
others covered by mold) and weapons and stranger things, metal cases with vacant glass eyes. In the
center was the Meatbringer's throne, a high seat of green-black stone. A theta of some impossibly bright
silver metal was sunk into the backrest, just above his head.

The Meatbringer had closed his eyes, and was leaning back on his throne. Resting, perhaps, Annelyn
thought. Vermyllar still made noises; whimpers and groans and choking sounds, words that made no
sense.

"He is mad,├втВмтАв Annelyn whispered to Groff, certain that Vermyllar's noise would cover their speech.
├втВм┼УOr he soon will be."

"Yes,├втВмтАв Riess said, crawling close to him. ├втВм┼УWhen are we going to save him?"

Groff turned his head to face Riess. ├втВм┼УWe are not,├втВмтАв the bronze knight said, in a flat low voice.