"Paul Thompson - [Elven Nations Trilogy 1] - Firstborn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Paul B)

Kith-Kanan decided, was to let them know he was going. He whistled
again and once more the griffon's trilling growl echoed between the white
towers.
Kith-Kanan put the waxing red moon on his right hand and flew
southwest, across the Thon-Thalas. The royal road stood out misty gray in
the night, angling away north from the city and south to the seacoast.
Kith-Kanan urged the griffon higher and faster. The road, the river, and
the city that had been his home vanished behind them. Ahead lay only
darkness and an endless sea of trees, green-black in the depths of night.
3
The Next Day
Kith-Kanan had no plans except to get away from Silvanost. More
than anything, he craved solitude right now. He pointed Arcuballis's beak
southwest, and gave the griffon its head.
Kith-Kanan dozed in the saddle, slumped forward over the griffon's
feathered neck. The loyal beast flew on all night, never straying from the
course its master had set. Dawn came, and Kith-Kanan awoke, stiff and
groggy. He sat up in the saddle and surveyed the land below. There was
nothing but treetops as far as the eye could see. He saw no clearings,
streams, or meadows, much less signs of habitation.
How far they had flown during the night Kith-Kanan could not guess.
He knew from hunting trips down the Thon-Thalas that south of Silvanost
lay theCourrainOcean, the boundaries of which no elf knew. But he was
in the East; the rising sun was almost directly ahead of him. He must be in
the great forest that lay between the Thon-Thalas on the east and the plains
of Kharolis to the west. He'd never ventured this far before.
Looking at the impenetrable canopy of trees, Kith-Kanan licked his
dry lips and said aloud, тАЬWell, boy, if things don't change, we can always
walk across the trees."
They flew for hours more, crisscrossing the leafy barrier and finding
no openings whatsoever. Poor Arcuballis was laboring, panting in deep,
dry grunts. The griffon had been flying all night and half the day. When
Kith-Kanan lifted his head to scan the horizon, he spied a thin column of
smoke rising from the forest, far off to his left. The prince turned
Arcuballis toward the smoke. The gap closed with agonizing slowness.
Finally, he could see that a ragged hole had been torn in the tapestry
of the forest. In the center of the hole, the gnarled trunk of a great tree
stood, blackened and burning. Lightning had struck it. The burned opening
was only ten yards wide, but around the base of the burning tree the
ground was clear and level. Arcuballis's feet touched down, its wings
trembled, and the beast shuddered. Immediately the exhausted griffon
closed its eyes to sleep.
Kith-Kanan untied his sack from the pillion. He crossed the narrow
clearing with the sack over one shoulder. Dropping to his feet, he squatted
down and started to unpack. The caw of a crow caught his ear. Looking
up at the splintered, smoldering trunk of the shattered tree, he spied a
single black bird perched on a charred limb. The crow cocked its head
and cawed again. Kith-Kanan went back to his unpacking as the crow
lifted off the limb, circled the clearing, and flew off.
He took out his bow and quiver, and braced a new bowstring. Though