"Thomas E. Sniegoski - Reckoning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

"But still you ordered them to attack. Why?Is it your wish to die, Verchiel of the Powershost? Do you
attempt to save face by being vanquished by one greater than you?"

The angel smiled, and in that instant Pelielof the Malakim was certain that the disease ofmadness had
indeed infected this creature of Heaven. It was a smile that told him the angelwas beyond caring, beyond
fear of reprisal. Andfor the briefest of instants, the emissary of God feared the lowly messenger.

"What has happened to make you thisway?" Peliel asked.

Verchiel's body grew straight and rigid. "Iam what He has made me," the Powers leadergrowled. "The
deaths of those in my chargehave served a purpose." His eyes of solid blacktwinkled with the taint of
insanity and he openedhis wings as if to punctuate his mad statement."A distraction was required."

Peliel sensed the presence of the Archonsbefore their attack upon him, attuned as he was tothe delicate
thrum of angelic magicksтАФmagicksthat were taught by the Malakim. He turned toface the threat as a
doorway into a place thatreeked of death and decay closed behind them.There were only five Archons
when there shouldhave been seven, another sign that things wereamiss. The Malakim began to ask his
studentswhat had befallen the world of God's man whilehe was preoccupied, but the words did not have
a chance to leave his mouth.

Peliel knew the spells that flowed from their mouths, powerful magicks meant to immobilizeprey of great
strength, and he was preparing tocounter their attack when he was viciouslystruck from behind. The
ferocious heat ofVerchiel's sword had melted through the metal of his armor and punctured the angelic
flesh beneath. The Malakim whirled to confront thesource of this latest affront as the last words ofthe
Powers commander became frighteninglyobvious.

"A distraction was required."

Verchiel had already leaped away and Pelielfelt the spells of the Archons take hold. It was too late. He
had missed his opportunity to fight back. The magick entered his body, worming itsway beneath his flesh,
into his muscles andbones, freezing him solid like the cold, ruggedterrain on which he had dwelled these
last twothousand years. His students had learned wellthe might of angel sorcery, and they encircled his
immobilized form, gently lowering him to theicy ground as the winds swirled feverishlyaround them.

Peliel could feel nothing but was fully awareof all that transpired about him. Four of the Archons loomed
above, muttering the incantations that kept him incapacitated. From insidehis robes, the fifth of the magick
usersтАФwhose eyes, Peliel noticed, had been removed from hisskullтАФproduced a tool, a knife that
shimmeredand glowed seductively. Its blade was curvedand serrated, and the Malakim was certain that
its bite would be fierce indeed.

The blind Archon plunged the blade down into Peliel's forehead with such force that hisskull split wide.
The world began to grow dim,and as the veil of unconsciousness drifted acrosshis eyes, Peliel saw that
Verchiel had taken hisplace beside his purveyors of angel magick.

"Do you see it?" he was asking over thedroning repetition of the Archons' spell, abreathless impatience in
his voice.

"It is there," said the magick user with a tiltof his hooded head, the vacant caverns of his eyesockets filled
with swirling pools of bottomless darkness.