"II - Chainer's Torment" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)the porch, which shuddered and swayed beneath him. Chainer
grunted and scouted the entire first floor for a safe route down into the basement. Finding none, he sheathed his knuckle dagger and took his weapon and tool of choice-a ten-foot length of black metal chain-from his belt. He looped the hard, polished chain around the broken base of a statue that guarded the front doorway, and with the simplest spell he knew, connected the chain to itself. "Link," he whispered, and the spot he was staring at shimmered, then coalesced into a new link that was indistinguishable from the rest of the chain. Chainer leaned backward to cinch up the metal noose and test its strength. Then he lowered himself down into the still, musty debris. It was incredibly dark, the kind of darkness that caused him to wonder if his eyes were still open. He listened for any other movement and waited in vain for his eyes to adjust. The sound continued to call him, growing higher and more excited as he got closer. Methodically, he made his way across the basement toward the sound, testing the stone floor before putting any weight on it. By a pile of moth-eaten fabric and random junk, he lit one of his flare candles and immediately noticed the sphere. In a small bubble of bright light, Chainer stared the ground, that had called to him across the salt flats. The smooth, flawless black ball somehow seemed to radiate darkness like fire radiates light. Chainer's flare only showed it in relief, for the sphere defined itself with its own anti-light. The edges of the sphere's dark field crackled and sparked as they rippled and undulated outward. Half-hypnotized by the black light and the triumphant crescendo of sound, Chainer had a vision of his future. The world around him dropped away, and in a flash of black light and silence he saw, felt, and knew the triumphant course his destiny would take. He would be a man of importance, of success, honored and obeyed as one of the true masters of the world. People and monsters alike would bow down before him, and at his pleasure they would live or die. He would be the Cabal's champion, its ambassador, its paragon, and he would spread its influence over the entire world. The light from Chainer's flare began to sputter and die. He could still hear the sphere's call, still feel its power vibrating in his skull. His course was clear. It was the most important thing in the world and as such fit only for the most important person in the world. "For the First," Chainer whispered. He firmly grabbed |
|
|