"Sniegoski, Thomas E - Outcast - 04 - Wurm War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

The stairs began to writhe beneath her feet, and she gasped in surprise. The stairs were moving on their own accord, undulating in such way that she was gently transported up the vast staircase with no effort on her part, higher and higher into the tower. There was more to these stairs than even she imagined, but they were so many and so steep that she was glad they had been enchanted, and that she did not have to climb them on her own.
As she reached the top of the moving staircase, Cassandra saw that a sentry was posted, a female who seemed to be awaiting her arrival.
"Mistress Cassandra," the guard said, bowing at the waist.
"Mistress Borgia is waiting for you in the watchtower." She gestured toward yet another staircase that, if she was not mistaken, would take her up into the enormous stone cap that sat atop the ancient building, dwarfed only by the spire that rose up from the parliamentary chambers next door.
"Thank you," she said, approaching the stairs. Curiosity drove her up the staircase, which narrowed as she climbed higher, and at the end there was a golden door, and on the door there had been carved the shape of an eye, closed in rest.
Cassandra tentatively passed her hand across the front of the sleeping eye, believing it to be a part of its locking mechanism, but the eye in the door did not recognize her, and thus did not open.
"Hello?" she called, preparing to wrap her knuckles on the door's surface, but before her hand could fall, the eye carved into the door came open to reveal a now staring orb.
"Enter the watchtower, Grandmaster of the Order of Alhazred," the voice of the door said, and it swung wide to allow her access.
Cassandra passed through the doorway and into the spherical chamber that sat atop the residential building just beside the spire of Xerxis. Everywhere her eyes fell, she found mirrors of all shapes and sizes, hanging weightlessly in the air. As she stepped farther into the room, she noticed that each mirror reflected a different part of Arcanum. She recognized the market place, the quadrangle at the University of Saint Germain, one of the many bustling neighborhoods located at the bottom of August Hill.
"What is this place?" she asked aloud, moving toward a particular mirror with a beautifully detailed frame of carved flower blossoms floating at eye level, which showed a pleasant scene of children playing in the street in front of their home.
"It is the Watchtower, Cassandra," a woman's voice said in response, and she turned to see Alethea Borgia walking among the floating mirrors, coming toward her.
"It's ... it's wonderful," she found herself saying, her attentions going back to the playing children.
"It is, isn't it?" the woman answered wistfully. "It was originally created by the founding members of Parliament as a tool to spy upon those who did not agree with the edicts sent down by the leaders of the original thirteen guilds. Today, as you can see, all the mirror eyes are turned toward our capital city."
Alethea lifted her arm and presented the room to Cassandra. "This is what we are trying to preserveЧto protect from harm, the day-to-day lives of our citizenry."
Cassandra found her attentions jumping from mirror to mirror, taking in the many sights, and something began to grow disturbingly apparent. Combat mages from various guilds, constables, and acolytes, wearing the insignias and colors of their orders, could be seen moving about the city in preparation.
Cassandra turned to the old woman, realizing what it was that the guild members were monitoring.
"Not all of us are using this time to bicker," the Voice said with a sigh. "Measures had to be taken. Preparations have to begin if we are going to be ready."
Alethea came to stand beside Cassandra, and the two of them observed the mirrors together.
"So much worth defending," the Voice of Parliament said as she gazed about the room.
Cassandra couldn't have agreed more. She glanced across multiple scenes of preparation reflected on the mirror surfaces, taking it all in. This was what being a grandmaster was truly about, of that she had no doubt.
"Mages from many of the service specialtiesЧnavigation, architecture, medicineЧhave all been called upon to aid us in our time of need," Alethea continued. "It will be the constables, combat mages, and guild acolytes who will be our protection if the Wurm are not stopped before reaching ArcanumЧif our first line of defense is not successful."
The Voice approached a mirror focused on the lobby of the tower, which explained how the sentry had known that Cassandra was coming up to the watchtower. The silver-haired woman waved her hand in front of it, and the image began to shimmer like water in a pool, its focus changing to another scene altogether.
Cassandra recognized almost immediately the old home perched precariously atop August Hill as the Cade estate. She had never been there, but Timothy talked about his home so often that it was almost as if she had.
"Here are those who will make a difference," Alethea said.
In the mirror Cassandra saw darkly colored sky carriages bearing the crest of the Legion Nocturne hovering in front of the estate. The sky around the old house was filled with Wurm in flight, and for a moment, she was gripped with fear, but then remembered that the clan of Verlis lived at the Cade estate.
Looking closer she saw Lord Romulus, Verlis, and his mate, Cythra, stepping from the home onto the stone steps that came down from the door and ended in open sky. Sky carriages waited to carry them away. Then Timothy emerged from the house and Cassandra took a sharp breath, smiling softly, her heart glad to see him, even though she could not be with him. He was the last to leave, Edgar flapping above his head as the boy closed the door behind him.
"They travel to the south," Alethea said. "To the fortress of Twilight to gather the forces of the Legion Nocturne and other allies in the region. They will form the first line of defense against Raptus and his army."
As if to reflect the emotions Cassandra was experiencing at that very moment, every one of the mirrors hanging within the watchtower flickered momentarily, all the images suddenly reflecting the group climbing into the sky crafts on August Hill, departing for their mission.
"Safe journey, champions of Terra," Alethea proclaimed. "Our strength and courage added to yours. We shall forever hold you in our minds, and in our hearts for what you are to do. Come back to us."
"Come back to me," Cassandra whispered softly under her breath.
Sheridan's good-byes to his friends still echoed in the foyer of the Cade estate. The mechanical man stood before the door, the memory mechanisms of his clockwork brain replaying the image of Timothy as he prepared to leave on his journey.
"I want you to stay here," Timothy had instructed him. "Someone needs to look after the Wurm children while their parents come south with us."
Sheridan had been taken aback by the request, for he had been prepared to go with them to Twilight, to aid them in any way that he could in their struggles against Raptus and his advancing horde.
It was not like him to argue, but the mechanical man did just that, questioning his master's decision. "Surely I can be of some help," he had said, having no desire to be left behind.
The boy had come to him then, a comforting smile on his handsome features. Timothy was growing older, the contours of his face starting to change as he progressed toward adulthood. In his slowly changing features, Sheridan saw the resemblance to his father, and had no doubt that Timothy would grow up to be as great, or an even greater man than Argus Cade had been.
Timothy had placed a hand upon his metal shoulder and looked directly into his optical sensors. "You are helping," he had said earnestly. "Each of us has an important part to play in this, and your part is to make sure that the children of Verlis's clan are safe and secure. It's a very important job, and I'm entrusting it to you.
And Sheridan had begrudgingly understood, accepting his friend and maker's wishes, accepting his part in the greater scheme of things. But it hadn't made it any easier to watch as his best friend walked out the door to confront a fate unknown.
Over the years since his creation, Sheridan had developed the ability to imagine, his mechanical brain able to conjure up all manner of possibilities. It was a function he had grown to appreciate, thinking about the future and the wonders that could await him, his friends, and the world in which they lived.
At that moment, standing perfectly still in the lobby of the Cade estate, Sheridan, the mechanical man, wished that he had the ability to turn this function off. His imagination had started to run wild, images of the Wurm attack on Arcanum filling his whirring head with visions of horror and destructionЧvisions of what could be if Timothy and the others were not successful.
He was scaring himself, his inner mechanisms starting to work all the harder. There was a consistent, high-pitched whistle emanating from the valve atop his head, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not remove the frightening thoughts from his mechanical brain.
And then he heard the sounds from behind him. The fluttering sounds of multiple sets of young wings, and he turned his head completely around to see the Wurm children silently perched atop the wooden banisters and around the staircase leading to the upper levels, watching him. There were nearly twenty of themЧall shapes and sizes, some so young that their wings had not yet developed enough to bear their weight, and they needed to be carried by the older children.
Sheridan looked into their young, dark eyes and recognized what he saw there. Their young minds were filled with the same fearful images as his own.
Each of us has an important part to play in this.
Now the memory of Timothy's words spurred him to action. Sheridan erased the imaginings of an unsure future from his mind and turned his attention to those who had been left in his charge. His friend was depending on himЧthe children were depending on him. It was his job to chase away their fears, to make them feel safe and secure.
"So," he said to them in his cheeriest of tones as he clapped his metal hands together, rubbing them eagerly. "Who wants to play a game?"
It was a responsibility that Sheridan did not take lightly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sojourn to the south had begun with six sky carriages bearing the crest of the Legion Nocturne. By the time the force had left the city of Arcanum, others had joined Lord Romulus's band, swelling the number to more than a hundred flying craft. There were combat mages and acolytes from the Sectus Guild and the Spiral Order, as well as the Malleus Guild. This last had surprised Timothy, but Lord Romulus had explained that with their city-state to the south destroyed, honor demanded that those members of the Malleus Guild in Arcanum be among the first to confront the advancing forces of the Wurm.
The boy rode in the lead carriage with Lord Romulus. They were alone except for Edgar, and the rook did not like the Nocturne Grandmaster very much, so he kept uncharacteristically silent on the trip. Up on the high seat of the sky carriage was Caiaphas. Though the navigation mage was technically in service to the Order of Alhazred, upon the death of Leander Maddox he had unofficially declared himself in service to Timothy in particular. They had endured much together, and Caiaphas had insisted that no one was going to drive the boy anywhere but him. Lord Romulus had argued, but only for a moment. He trusted Caiaphas, and allowed the navigation mage to guide his carriage instead of his usual navigator.
As they soared high above the forest to avoid any sort of surprise attack from below, Timothy glanced out the window. Verlis and Cythra led a force comprised of every adult in their clan.