"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Rose of the Prophet 02 - The Paladin of the Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

Pukah followed instantly, plunging headlong into the sea water with a splash
that drenched the angel and sent a school of small fish into a panicked
frenzy. "Coming?" he yelled.
"I'll be along," Sond answered softly.
Facing the west, the djinn's eyes scanned the horizon. He saw nothing but
blowing sand, heard nothing but the eerie song the dunes sing as they shift
and move in their eternal dance with the wind.
Shaking his head, the djinn turned away and slowly entered the Kurdin Sea.
THE PALADIN OF THE NIGHT
9
Chapter 2
Sinking deeper and deeper into the Kurdin Sea, Asrial tried to appear as
nonplussed and casual as if she were drifting through a clear blue sky in the
heavens of Promenthas. Inwardly, however, she was a prey to growing terror.
The guardian angel had never encountered a place as fearsome as this.
It wasn't the cold or the wetness that sent shudders through her ethereal
bodyтАФAsrial had not been around humans nearly as long as either Pukah or Sond
and so did not feel these sensations. It was the darkness.
Night steals over the surface of the world like the shadow of an angel's wing
and it is just thatтАФa shadow. Night hides objects from our vision and this is
what frightens mortals-* not the darkness itself, but the unknown lurking
beneath it. Night on the world's surface merely affects the sight, however,
and mortals have learned to fight back. Light a candle and drive the darkness
away. Night above does not affect hearingтАФthe growls of animals, the rustling
of trees, the sleepy murmur of the birds are easily detected, perhaps more
easily than in daylight, for night seems to sharpen the other senses in return
for dimming one.
But the night of the water is different. The darkness of the sea isn't a
shadow cast over mortal vision. The sea's night is an entity. It has weight
and form and substance. It smothers the breath from the lungs. The sea's night
is eternal. The sun's rays cannot pierce it. No candle will light it. The
sea's
night is alive. Creatures populate the darkness and mortals are the
trespassers in their domain.
The sea's night is silent.
The silence, the weight, the aliveness of the darkness pressed in on Asrial.
Though she had no need to breathe, she felt herself gasping for breath. Though
her immortal vision could see, she wished desperately for light. More than
once die caught herself in what appeared to be the act of swimming, as were
Sond and Pukah. Asrial did not cleave the water with clean, strong strokes
like Sond or flounder through it fishlike, as did Pukah. It was, with her,
more as if she sought to push the water aside with her hands, as if she were
trying to clear a path for herself.
"You're growing more human all the time," commented Pukah teasingly, bobbing
up near her.
"If you mean that I am frightened of this terrible place and want very much to
leave, then you are right," Asrial said miserably. Brushing aside the silver
hair that floated into her fece, she glanced around in dismay. "Surely this
must be the dwelling place of Astafas!"
"Asta-who?"