"James McCann - Kith 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCann James)

head like the sail on a ship moved both backward and forward. Its nostrils flared with
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every laboured breath and, licking two giant eye-teeth that covered its bottom lip from an
overbite, it displayed, though it brought Rafgard no comfort, a tooth that had been
snapped in half. The student slid his sword back inside its scabbard, it was useless in his
hands anyway, and stood beneath sunlight that showered inside through a crack in the
ceiling.
He stared into the demon eyes before him and recalled the pride he had seen in his
father. He wondered how proud he would be when news reached home that his son was
this beastтАЩs dinner. His family had waited so long to raise a child strong enough for the
Academy, and, as Rafgard stared into the giant, black pool that emerald lightly rimmed,
he remembered his DadтАЩs pupils that day.тАж
But Rafgard had no time for careless thought. As the dragon cringed its eyebrows to
squint it nearly knocked its prey over with its heavy breath. Its nostrils flared, and
bearing great yellow teeth it swirled around, recklessly smashing into the sides of the
walls. A challenge to the ceiling for it to come crashing down, but it didnтАЩt.
Rafgard felt relieved for the first time since he had woken the тАЬlegendaryтАЭ dragon
that the dome had withstood the assaults. Perhaps he was going to get out of this alive;
with an item of dragon treasure to boot! Provided his assumption was not the mistake of
an ignorant country bumpkin.тАж
Fire filled the cavern, and again the student shielded himself from the blast. He took
comfort in his Tiger stance, concentrating on it to brace himself from the scorching pain
as his metal coverтАЩs outer shell grew a bright amber, much like that from a fire ... with the
same distinctive, putrid smell from a peat fire.
Then, as the beast lunged, Rafgard dropped his shield and bounded behind a rock. He
barely escaped the razor sharp teeth, and just as heтАЩd expected, or at least hoped, the
overgrown lizard paid no heed to the human figure bounding away. It bit down on the red
hot shield, crushing it in its maw in the same way a man would crush paper with his
hands. Then it roared, and spit the foul tasting metal out.
Rafgard now knew for certain that the beast was blind.

тАЬCool! Blind? Really?тАЭ the question was asked loudly and suddenly, disturbing the
story with which an old man, far into the twentieth century, had become engrossed in
telling. Trent Powers hadnтАЩt meant to interrupt, but he was just so into this tale that he
couldnтАЩt contain his excitement any longer.
He watched his storyteller lean in his creaky rocking chair, and stare into the pit of
the fire he had built as if he stared into the flames of a dragon. Trent had helped build the
fire, and was now glad he had. It added such a mysterious edge to the narrative. The
flames flickered, basking the bungalow with an amber illumination like a cosy bedspread
set over a mattress; a bare mattress. Old man Whittaker lived with only those necessities
he needed; he didnтАЩt even own a television! There were no pictures, no knickknack, few
items of furniture, and only two forks, two knives, and one spoon.
Trent had known him for several weeks but the strange thing was he didnтАЩt тАЬknowтАЭ
him at all. He knew his dedication to the Church, Sunday was the only time old man
Whittaker came out, and that the town feared him. He had moved to Minnow Creek just
last fall, and hadnтАЩt had any family nor friends visit. Trent had felt sorry for him, and one
morning last month before the congregation met outside for coffee and juice he walked
right up and introduced himself.
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As for the old guyтАЩs absence of visitors, Trent had never asked why. He assumed his