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

nothing. It looks as if the bastard moved out. I think we've searched enough.
Sond! Sond? Where are you!"
"But there must be something!" Asrial twisted a lock of her hair around her
finger. "The fish said I should come with you! Maybe we could talk to your
God. Perhaps he knows something?"
"No, no!" Pukah grew pale at the thought. "That wouldn't be wise. I'm sure if
Akhran knew anything He would have informed us. Sond! Sond! IтАФ"
A hoarse, ragged cry came from the inner depths of the cave.
"Sul's eyeballs! What was that?" Pukah felt the hair beneath his turban stand
straight up.
"Promenthas be with us!" Asrial breathed.
The terrible cry rose again, swelled to a shriek, then broke off in a choking
sob.
"It's Sond!" Pukah sprang forward, overturning rocks, shoving through curtains
of floating seaweed. "Sond! Where are you? Did you step on a fish? Is it Kaug?
Sond . . ."
Pukah's voice died. Bounding a corner, he came upon the elder djinn standing
by himself in a small grotto. Sickly green light, oozing from slimy plants
clinging to the walls, was reflected in an object Sond held in his hands. The
djinn was staring at it in horror.
"What is it, my friend? What have you found? It looks likeтАФ" Pukah gasped.
"Akhran have mercy!"
"Why? What's the matter?" Asrial tiptoed into the grotto behind Pukah and
peered over his shoulder. "What do you mean scaring us half to death? It's
only an old lamp!"
Sond's face was a pale green in the light of the plants. "Only an old lamp!"
he repeated in an anguished voice. "It's my lamp! My chirak\"
**His what?" Asrial looked at Pukah, who was nearly as green as Sond.
"It is more than a lamp," Pukah said through stiff lips. "It is his dwelling
place."
"And look, Pukah," Sond said in a hushed whisper. "Look behind me, at my
feet."
"Mine, too?" Though Pukah's lips formed the words, no one could hear them.
Sond nodded silently.
Pukah sank slowly to the cave floor. Reaching out his hand, he took hold of a
basket that stood behind Sond. Made of tightly wrapped coils of rattan, the
basket was small at the bottom, swelled outward toward the top like the bulb
of an onion, and curved back in toward the center. Perched atop it was a woven
lid with a jaunty knob. Lovingly drawing the basket close, Pukah stroked its
woven coils.
"I don't understand!" Asrial cried in growing fear, looking from one
despairing djinn to the other. "All I see is a basket and a lamp! Why are you
so upset? What does it mean?"
"It means," came a deep, booming voice from the front of the cave, "that now /
am their master!"
THE PALADIN OF THE NIGHT
17
Chapter 3
The 'efreet's shadow fell over them, followed by the hulking body of the
gigantic immortal. Water streamed from the hairy chest, the 'efreet's