"Sean Russell - River Into Darkness 1 - Beneath the Vaunted Hills" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

could not understand what. And there was no one else whom he might ask.

тАЬDo I feel lonely, being the last?тАЭ he asked the stars. He waited a moment and then decided that they
could not reply. Only he knewтАж and would not say.

From beyond the garden wall he heard a wolf raise up its voice, the howl reverberating in his own breast.
His familiar, off in the hills and wood, hunting as it must.

A spring nightтАж still, awaiting the voices of the frogs and insects. Only the choral stars singing their
ancient melodies.

He looked up and found the wandering star. тАЬPerhaps we have roamed long enough, тАЭ he whispered.

Augury tempted him. He could feel it. Perhaps this time he would have a vision that was absolutely clear,
and his course of action would be obvious. Obvious beyond all doubt.

тАЬA foolтАЩs hope,тАЭ he said aloud. Certainly he was too old for those.

The world was in motion. There was no doubt of that. Everyone poised to play their part, to make their
sacrifice, if that was what was required. After all these many years he could not have a mistake. Not the
smallest error.

Eldrich tilted back his head and gazed at the stars, wondering again if he had calculated correctly. If he
could make an end of it soon.


Chapter One
It is, perhaps, less than true to say it all began in a brothel, but I found Samual Hayes hiding in such an establishment and this
marked the turning point if not an actual beginning. How Samual Hayes had become misfortuneтАЩs whipping boy, I will never
understand.

The journal of Erasmus Flattery

Hayes thought it particularly appropriate that the streets of the poor lacked public lighting of any kind.
One passed out of the light of the better areas into near darkness, only dull candlelight filtering through
dirty panes and casting faint shimmering rectangles on the cobbles. At night one often saw dark feet and
legs passing through these rectangles of light, or if the passerby walked closer to the window, one would
see a silhouetted head and shoulders floating oddly above the street. Hayes had sat in his window often
enough to mark this strange anatomical parade passing byтАФ incomplete men and women flitting into
existence before each dull little window, then ceasing to be, then coming to meager life again.

Paradise StreetтАФhe wondered if the man who named it had foreseen its futureтАФlay near the boundary
between the light and darkness, an area of perpetual twilight, perhaps. Almost a border town where few
seemed to make their homes permanently. Most were on their way into darknessтАФa handful were
moving toward the light. It was a place where a young man might end up if his family had sacrificed their
fortune to foolishness and keeping up appearances, as was the case with Samual Hayes.

For him Paradise Street was also a place to hide from oneтАЩs creditors, as astonishing as that seemed to
himтАФa young man who, for most of his life, had never given money a second thought.