"Sniegoski, Thomas E - Outcast - 02 - Dragon Secrets" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

DRAGON SECRETS
Outcast Book 02

Christopher Golden & Thomas Sniegoski




PROLOGUE
Perched on the edge of one of many turrets adorning the floating fortress of SkyHaven, Verlis unfurled his leathery wings and basked in the rays of the early morning sun. The warm sunshine was pleasant, but it caused the dragonlike creature a pang of guilt. He had no right to feel even the slightest joy until he had accomplished the task that had brought him to this world in the first place. There was a civil war going on among the Wurm in their world of Draconae, and his kin were losing badly. He could not rest until his tribe was safe from harm.
Verlis sighed and smoke vented from the nostrils on either side of his blunted snout. A roiling flame burned within every member of his race, a species descended from the great Dragons of Old, and there was nearly always smoke or fire rising from their snouts.
Verlis had come to Terra, a world forbidden to his kind, to seek out the help of a mage known not only for his vast, magical power, but also for his great wisdom and kindness. He needed the help of Argus Cade. Yet almost immediately upon passing through the dimensional barrier separating his world from Terra, he had known that something was wrong. He had used magic taught to him by Argus himself to slip through the barrier, appearing inside the old mage's home, but there had been something in the air. No, he corrected himself. There was a lack of something.
His taloned feet gripped the edge of the stone tower, and he tilted his horned head to look down at the vast ocean surrounding this great fortress suspended above the emerald waters by powerful spells.
How peaceful it seems here, Verlis mused. But no one knew better than he that looks could be deceiving.
He had come to this world of mages only to find that his friend and confidant, his last hope, had died. But now it seemed that Argus might not have been his last hope after all. Verlis had learned of the mage's passing from Argus's own son. The boy looked like the child of any mage, and yet he was as much an outcast in this magical world as Verlis was. Timothy Cade had been born with a most unusual malady. Terra was a world of magic; the entire planet hummed with interconnected lines of magic, a kind of power matrix. Everything had been built by magic. And every person in that world had magic inside them, the same way the Wurm had fire.
But Timothy Cade was without any magic at all. He had been born empty of it. He was an un-magicianЧthe only one that Terra had ever seen. Timothy could not perform even the simplest spell. Worse, magic broke down at his touch. He was like a blank spot, a hole ripped into the magical matrix of the world. Timothy was a most unusual creature indeed, and Verlis had learned that the mages feared the boy nearly as much as they feared the Wurm. Perhaps more. For Timothy was something they could not understand, a boy fast becoming a young man to whom none of their rules or expectations applied.
A gentle breeze blew in from across the ocean, caressing the hard, scaled body of the winged creature, and again Verlis felt that brief respite of pleasure, but promptly dismissed it. His clan, his family, was in danger.
Timothy had promised to help his clan just as Argus would have, but first he had had to resolve a crisis on Terra, in the city of Arcanum. Nicodemus, the Grandmaster of the Order of Alhazred, had murdered others of Verlis's kind and used his position for foul purposes. When Timothy and his loyal companions had attacked SkyHaven, Nicodemus's home, Verlis had flown into battle alongside them.
Now Nicodemus was no more, and they were preparing to slip through the dimensional barrier again. Timothy was going to return to Draconae with Verlis and do whatever he could to help. The Wurm did not know how much help the boy would be, but he had faith in Timothy, and he was pleased to be going home.
Verlis turned to face the rising sun. It was truly glorious, and he struggled to recall the last time he had experienced a joy so simple. Images of his own world filled his mindЧthe sky so often darkened with clouds of thick, volcanic ash and the dreaded ice barrens that bordered his home city on Draconae. The harshness of that environment, however, was nothing compared to the situation his clan was in now, hunted by their own kind, in the midst of a terrible civil war. Time was of the essence, and Verlis prayed to his ancient dragon gods that he would not be too late.
Spreading his wings to their full span, Verlis prepared to take flight. It was nearly time for them to depart. He would need to find Timothy and review their plans once more. There was far too much at stake to leave anything to chance. His powerful wings beat the air, and as he rose up from his perch, he noticed out of the corner of his eye something was moving. He turned his great horned head, but it was not Timothy, nor any of his loyal friends, who moved quickly toward him.
Six mages approached, four males and two females, dressed in vestments of solid black, the morning sunlight glinting off diagonal rows of golden buttons that adorned their chests. The Wurm was about to address them when the first one lashed out.
A bolt of pure, crackling magic erupted from one of the men's hands, striking the dragon's left wing. Verlis cried out in surprise and fell to the rooftop, his wing immediately numbed.
"What treachery is this?" he roared.
But the six mages remained eerily silent, their eyes devoid of all emotion.
"I am a guest of Timothy Cade and Grandmaster Leander Maddox," he explained, certain that there must be some kind of mistake.
Still the humans said nothing, their hands glowing and sizzling with magical energy.
The Wurm surged to his feet as his attackers encircled him. "If it is a fight you seek," he snarled, his voice like the rumble of an approaching storm, "then I am more than happy to oblige."
A female was next to attack, her voice high and shrill as she uttered a spell that created spheres of solid magic in the air. Verlis spoke a spell of his own, erecting a shield of pulsing blue force only a heartbeat before those spheres streaked toward him. They would have battered him, and even with his tough Wurm hide, they might have shattered his bones. Another mage shot a hand forward and sent a blast of blistering crimson magic searing through the air at him. Verlis turned his reptilian body to counter the assault. The attack sparked and flashed as it smashed into his shield, and the Wurm stumbled backward with the intensity of the blow.
He was hit from behind by three enchanted strikes and spun around with a ferocious roar. Verlis tried to deflect the magic, but his attackers' spells were relentless, pummeling him with their combined strength and driving him to his knees. The Wurm's magical shield shattered with a sound like breaking glass and the aggressors closed in, their spells raining mercilessly down upon his weakening form.
Liquid fire, the most destructive of weapons in the Wurm's arsenal, churned in his chest. Verlis raised his horned head and gazed at his assailants through angry eyes. He inhaled, opening his mouth of razor-sharp teeth, flames roiling at the back of his throat, and let loose a stream of fire from his gaping maw.
"How careless," he heard an authoritative voice say from somewhere up on the tower. But he was more concerned with the enemies before him. First things first.
The flames blossomed outward, hungrily reaching for the first of the attackers. The men and women recoiled as his burning breath drew near, but it did not touch them. Something had stopped the fire, freezing the tongues of flame in midair. The Wurm took a deep breath and expelled another incendiary blast, and again the flames hung petrified in the air like strangely beautiful sculptures of angry orange and red.
A tall, older mage in a long gray cloak appeared before the stunned Verlis, eyeing him with a curious tilt of his head. "How careless indeed," he repeated, a long-fingered hand reaching up to smooth the ends of his long mustache. His hair was black and his eyes a gray that matched his cloak.
Verlis snarled.
"My, you are a fearsome devil, aren't you?" the cloaked stranger observed.
Then, as quick as a thought, the stranger extended his hand and a powerful bolt of magic exploded from his fingertips, striking Verlis in the center of his broad, barrel chest. The Wurm was thrown violently backward, the world spinning crazily as he struggled to remain conscious.
"Rule number one," the man announced to the others, holding up a single finger for all to see. "Know your enemy as well as you know yourselves."
Through bleary eyes Verlis watched the newcomer pace before his attackers, who now stood stiffly at attention, hands clasped behind their backs. He brushed his cloak back with a flourish.
"Know his every action, even before he decides to take it," he continued, looking sternly into each of their faces. "That is how you will survive in a world fraught with danger."
"Yes, Constable Grimshaw," the six mages responded in unison, eyes straight ahead.
Mustering his strength, Verlis climbed unsteadily to his feet, standing to his full height, still refusing to succumb. "I have done nothing, yet you attack me." His legs trembled beneath him. "I want to know why."
The constable's back was to him, and the man slowly turned, a cruel smile on his face. "I would think that rather obvious, monster," he answered. "Your kind does not belong in this world."
The constable walked toward him. "Wurms, savages, freakish little boys who cannot wield magic, but can make men from metal. None of you belongs, and that is why I have been called."
Verlis was stunned. The constable was speaking not only of him, but also of Timothy Cade and his companions.
Grimshaw raised his hand again and allowed the magic to flow. This spell was even more brutal than the first, and Verlis cried out in agony. Drained of the strength to fight, Verlis slumped to the rooftop as the constable's assault pounded him into unconsciousness.
"I am here to restore order from chaos," Verlis heard the Constable say as he slid into the embrace of dark, cold oblivion.
Order from chaos.
CHAPTER ONE
Timothy Cade stood on the ocean floor, rocked by the rhythm of the water, and he gazed around at the wondrous undersea landscape. It was so peaceful beneath the waves. He had always found a cool serenity there, as though it were a dream. Reeds flapped like banners, pushed and pulled by the deep tide. Dozens of breeds of fish swam in these waters, a kaleidoscope of colors in motion. Burrow crabs skittered from beneath clumps of prickly plants into the warrens of coral that jutted from the ocean bottom, pale castles that looked as though they had been carved of bone.