"Michael A. Stackpole - Dragon Crown Saga 3 - When Dragons Rage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stackpole Michael A)

are secret without, for the good of all the world.тАЭ While hardly lyrical or powerful, the words
described what would happen to discussions held beyond the arch. Nothing she said or
heard could be shared in the waking world.
She shivered and set her shoulders. In Yslin тАФ mere months previous, though it seemed
like years тАФ she had been invited to join the worldтАЩs eldest and most elite secret society:
the Great Communion of Dragons. Any Communicant could access their enchanted
meeting place in a trance that would appear to be simple sleep to observers. Alexia had
tucked herself into bed at the Scarlet Mask Inn before she traveled here. This was her first
conscious journey to the Communion, so a touch of fear fluttered in her belly.
Still braiding her hair, she entered the cavern, occasionally ducking her head around
low-hanging stalactites. She threaded her way along a dimly glowing curved path that led
down to a vast arch that bridged a crevasse. She could not see the bottom of it and
suspected it had none. The span linking one side to the other was narrow, and try as she
might she could not make it appear any broader. On the other side, the cavern closed into a
twisting, serpentine tunnel that worked its way down, and finally opened into a vast chamber
filled with moist air and the gentle ripple of water washing up on a shore.
A boat waited at the end of a pier that jutted into the dark underground lake. The boat
had no masts and had been styled after a dragon, with a fearsome head curving up from the
bow. Back on the wheeldeck stood a steel construct, animated by magick, that appeared to
be the marriage of human and dragon forms. Its massive, clawed hands rested on the
wheel. Its dark eyes did not show any light, nor did it acknowledge her as she boarded
amidships.
She glanced at it. тАЬMaroth, take me forth.тАЭ
The ship lurched slightly, then began to move across the lake. Alexia strode to the bow.
Water flowed noisily by under the keel, and some splashed up to sprinkle coldly on her face.
She felt the rush of the passage in the breeze upon her face, but the ship sped into a
starless void that provided few visual clues as to movement. Glancing back she saw nothing
of the pier, but when she turned to look forward again, an island had appeared, towering
over the boat as it moved to a small quay.
The boat glided to rest, bumping only slightly, and Alexia leaped effortlessly to the granite
quay. She turned and tossed the pilot a salute. тАЬThank you, Maroth.тАЭ
The mechanical creature made no response.
Alexia mounted the steps and slowly began to recognize the places from which bits and
pieces of the island had been drawn. The steps reminded her of the seaside entry into
Fortress Draconis, though she saw none of the dragonel ports that had defended its тАЬsmall
harbor. And the island still boasted the soaring cylindrical towers typical of strongholds
predating ChytrineтАЩs creation of weapons that could raze them. The island also bore no
scars of battle, and though Fortress Draconis had yet to fall the last time she saw it, she
imagined ChytrineтАЩs assault had by now reduced it to smoking, corpse-ridden ruins.
 Up the steps she went, then crested the islandтАЩs rim and began a steep descent to its
interior. A lush garden greeted her, rich with blossoms that bloomed despite the twilight. The
scented symphony of their nocturnal perfume exceeded their beauty. Some of the trees bore
fruit and her mouth began to water.
Alyx smiled, wondering if her mouth was watering in this illusion, or back in the tavern.
Could I pluck some of the fruit? Would it taste delicious when I bit into it ?
тАЬIt would, in fact, daughter.тАЭ
She spun, dropping into a combat stance, then relaxed and straightened. тАЬYou surprised
me.тАЭ
тАЬMy apologies.тАЭ The rough figure of a man materialized from a shadowed grove. Thickly
and powerfully built, he wore a black surcoat worked with a scale pattern reminiscent of