"Janny Wurts - The Cycle of Fire 3 - Shadowfane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wurts Janny)

If Ivainson Jaric failed to master his father's talents, if he failed in the
Cycle of Fire while the
compact unriddled the mystery of the Vaere, mankind would suffer extinction at
the hands of demon foes ...
The seeress broke contact with a quivering sigh; and silence ominous as the
calm before cataclysm settled over the grove of the Vaere.
1
Riddle
Cold came early to the wastes beyond Felwaithe; frosts rimed the lichens and
traced a madman's patterns on the bare rock of the hills. Here, far north of
Keithland's border and the lands inhabited by men, a single lantern burned in
a hall of bleak stone. Within its circle of light, Scait, Demon Lord of
Shadowfane, sat upon a chair fashioned from the bones and the hides of human
victims. He pared his thumb spurs to needlepoints with a penknife, while an
immature Thienz ornamented with beads crouched at his feet, froglike limbs
folded against its loins.
Scait flexed scaled wrists and paused in his sharpening. His upper lip curled
over rows of sharklike teeth as he addressed his grovelling underling. 'What
has occurred that Thienz elders send a hatchling to trouble my thoughts?
Speak, tadpole! What tidings do you bring?'
The Thienz cowered against the icy stone floor. The sovereign of Shadowfane
quite often killed out of temper, and this youngster brought ill news of the
worst import. It flapped its gills in distress. 'Most-mighty, I bring word of
the boats sent into Keithland to capture Ivainson-Firelord's-heir-Jaric. Your
servants have failed. Jaric has reached sanctuary on the Isle of the Vaere.'
Scait hissed explosively. 'Seed-of-his-father, accursed! How did one wretched
boy slip past five dozen Thienz elders?'
Beads chinked against stillness; the Thienz battled an overwhelming instinct
to flee, yet the flash of displeasure
in its master's sultry eyes did not metamorphose into blows. Its crest
flattened in reluctance against its blunt head, the youngster prepared to
offer images of storm and death, and the wreckage of the fleet that had failed
in its directive to take the gold-haired son of Ivain Firelord.
But the sovereign Lord of Shadowfane refused direct sharing. Instead he
twisted the blade of his knife and pricked at the stuffed human thigh that
comprised the throne arm. 'I would know the particulars of Jaric's escape from
one who is senior, and experienced. Fetch me Thienz-eldest, for no other will
suffice.'
The young demon bobbed hasty obeisance, then scuttled from the dais, its
discharge of fear and relief a palpable stink in the air. Once clear of the
steps, it spun and fled around the mirror pool set into the floor beyond.
Scait watched with slitted eyes as it vanished into the gloom of the doorway;
rage born of frustration bristled the long hackles at his neck. He had hoped
to capture Jaric, enslave and manipulate his Firelord's potential for the ruin
and sorrow of humanity. Now this recent failure by the Thienz invited terrible
risk. Ivainson Jaric might survive the Cycle of Fire; then would humans gain
another Vaere-trained sorcerer, one powerful enough to free Anskiere of
Elrinfaer from his prison of ward-spelled ice. The paired threat of
Stormwarden and Firelord would pose a serious inconvenience, if not a direct
impediment, to the conquest planned by the demon compact at Shadowfane.