"The New Rebellion (Kristine Rusch)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

Tonight, he had climbed more than twenty stories, and had almost run the
first flights until it became clear that some of the steps wouldn't hold his
weight. Kueller hadn't summoned him, but Brakiss didn't care. The sooner he
left Almania, the happier he would be.
The stairs twisted and finally he reached the roof-or what he thought was
the roof. A stone hut had been built to protect the steps, but the hut had no
windows or doors. Only pillars, which gave a good view of the gravel inlay
surface, and of the star-filled sky. Stones had fallen out of the hut and
shattered onto the rooftop. The remains from bombs and blaster concussions
formed little mounds on what had once been a level plane. Kueller had not
repaired the tower or the other Je'har government buildings. He never would.
Kueller never forgave anyone who crossed him.
Brakiss shuddered and clutched his thin cape tightly around his
shoulders. His frozen fingers barely got a grip on the material.
"I told you to wait below." Kueller's deep voice carried on the wind.
Brakiss swallowed. He couldn't even see Kueller.
The starlight fell across the roof, giving the dark sky a luminescence
that Brakiss found eerie. He climbed the remaining stairs and stepped out of
the hut. A gust of wind knocked him against the stone. He braced himself with
his right hand, losing his grip on his cloak. The fastener tugged against his
neck as the wind made the material flutter behind him.
"I had to know if it worked," he said.
"You'll know when it works." Kueller's voice was a live thing. It
surrounded Brakiss, resonated within him, and held him at bay. Brakiss
concentrated, not on the voice, but on Kueller himself.
And finally saw him, standing near the edge, overlooking the city below.
Stonia, the capital of Almania, looked small and insignificant from this
height. But Kueller looked like a powerful bird of prey, his cape billowing in
the wind, his broad shoulders suggesting great physical strength.
Brakiss took a step forward when suddenly the wind died. The air around
him froze and so did he. In that moment, he heard - felt-saw-a million voices
scream in terror.
The terror rose in him, and he saw again that moment when Master
Skywalker led Brakiss deep into Brakiss's own heart, that moment when he saw
himself clearly and nearly lost his mind-A scream formed in his own throat-And
died as the other screams exploded around him, filling him, warming him,
melting the ice in the wind. He felt stronger, larger, more powerful than he
ever had before. Instead of fear, his heart felt an odd, twisted joy.
He looked up. Kueller had raised his arms, his head tilted back, his face
uncovered for the first time in years. He had changed, his skin filled with a
knowledge Brakiss wasn't sure he wanted.
And yet...
Yet Kueller glowed, as if the pain of those million voices had fed
something within him, had made him even greater than he had been before.
The wind returned, its frigid gusts knocking Brakiss against the stone.
Kueller didn't seem to feel it. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that shook
the entire tower.
Brakiss braced himself against the stone. He waited until Kueller's arms
fell to his sides before saying, "It worked." Kueller slipped the mask over
his face. "Well enough." Such an understatement for such a great moment.