"I - Odyssey" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)

VANCE MOORE
"ODYSSEY"

(Magic: the Gathering. Odyssey cycle. Book I.)


The detonation rocked Kamahl back. The light was bright
enough that he could see through his eyelids as the edge of the
energy brushed him. The crowd was stunned into silence. The magic
ignited the spore cloud and the explosion sped back to the mole,
devouring it as the molds detonated in sympathy with Kamahl's
attack. The dementia caster rolled on the ground, unable to
stand. She had been flung back several yards, and the sand
stripped most of her clothes off as well as much of her skin. Her
teeth bared and bloody, she stood, gathering herself to summon
more monstrosities.

CHAPTER 1

The sun lay sullen to the west. Hovering on the horizon, its
rays cast the hills in shadows. The pits lay ahead. Finally he
was drawing near after months of travel. Kamahl looked at the
heart of the games and saw only a gaping hole of darkness. The
twilight prevented him from seeing the city that lay in the
hollow. Even as he watched, torches were lit, the dull red light
illuminating the site of Kamahl's future triumphs. From mountain
obscurity he traveled toward his destiny.
Cabal City was the largest in the continent's interior, but
only a few signs of its size were visible from Kamahl's vantage
point. He could see just the roofs of a few buildings and the
residential quarters' laundry hanging in the still air. The city
was held in a huge rocky crater, its sides uneven but highest on
the western outskirts. The glow of torches and the streetlights
near the great dome of the arena began to color the walls of the
buildings as Kamahl moved closer. The flare of both ordinary fire
and magic lit the streets, but the dark shadow cast by the crater
walls shrouded most of the city in darkness.
The barbarian started down the shallow incline at a slow run.
He breathed easily, even with the armor in his pack and the great
sword strapped to his back. Skin the color of brass showed no
flush of exertion. His smooth beardless features were calm. No
sweat dampened his inky hair, and his violet eyes were clear.
Living in the mountains had given him good night vision, and he
looked through the increasingly dim light to the town's gate. The
road began to rise, and he breathed harder as he neared the city
limits. The crater walls were notched, and the entrance reminded
the barbarian of a pass through mountains, though far smaller in
scale than the peaks of his childhood home. Drovers hurried a
string of camels into the city, their whips snapping as they
moved the animals through the high gate. Merchants from across