"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Deathgate Cycle 7 - The Seventh Gate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

The tail flicked out near Alfred.

"This may burn a little," the dragon said, "but it will keep you docile during our trip back to my
cave."

The tip of the stinger grazed Alfred on the cheek. He screamed; his body jerked. Marit clenched her
hands tight, dug the nails into her flesh. Beside her, she could hear Hugh the Hand breathing hard,
gulping for air.

"What do we do?" His face was covered with sweat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Marit looked at the dragon. A limp and unresisting Alfred dangled from the creature's front claws.
The dragon carried the man carelessly, as a small child might carry a rag doll.

Unfortunately, the wretched Sartan was still conscious, his eyes open and wide with fear. That was
the worst part of the dragon's venom. It kept the victim paralyzed but conscious; feeling, knowing
everything.

"Nothing," Marit answered quietly.

Hugh the Hand glowered. "But we have to do something! We can't let it fly offтАФ"

Marit put her hand over the man's mouth. He hadn't spoken above a whisper, yet the dragon's huge
head was shifting swiftly toward them, its roving eyes searching the forest.
The baleful gaze raked across them, passed on. The dragon continued its search a bit longer; then,
losing interest perhaps, it began to move.

It was walking,

Mark's hopes rose.

The dragon was walking, not flying. It had begun to lumber through the forest, carrying Alfred in
its claws. And now that the creature had turned toward her. Mark could see that it was injured. Not
critically, but enough to keep it grounded. The membrane of one wing was torn, a gaping hole
sliced through it.

Score one for Alfred, Marit said silently, then sighed. That wound would only make the dragon all
the more furious. It would keep Alfred alive for a long, long time.

And he wouldn't like it much.

She stood unmoving, silent, until the dragon was well out of eyesight and earshot. Every time Hugh
the Hand would have spoken, Marit frowned, shook her head. When she could no longer hear any
sound of the dragon crashing through the forest, she turned to Hugh.

"The dragons have excellent hearing. Remember that. You nearly got us killed."

"Why didn't we attack it?" he demanded. "The damn thing is hurt! With your magicтАФ" He waved
his hand, too angry to finish.