"Amber Short Story 06 - Hall of Mirrors 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"Funny. I'd a feeling you would have welcomed trouble," Shask said.

I chuckled.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," I replied. "I wonder how long the spell lasts?"

"Maybe it has to be lifted."

"Shit! That's always a pain."

"Beats being insubstantial."

"True."

"Surely someone back at Amber will know what to do."

"Hope so."

We rode on, and we encountered no one else that day. I felt the rocks
beneath me when I wrapped myself in my cloak to sleep that night. Why did I
feel them when I didn't feel a sword or a crossbow bolt? Too late to ask
Shask whether he had felt anything, for he had turned to stone for the
night.

I yawned and stretched. A partly unsheathed Grayswandir felt normal
beneath my fingers. I pushed it back in and went to sleep.

Following my morning ablutions, we rode again. Shask was taking well to
hellrides, as well as most Amber mounts did. Better, in some ways. We raced
through a wildly changing landscape. I thought ahead to Amber, and I thought
back to the time I'd spent imprisoned in the Courts. I had honed my
sensitivity to a very high degree through meditation, and I began to wonder
whether that, coupled with other strange disciplines I'd undertaken, could
have led to my intangibility. I supposed it might have contributed, but I'd a
feeling the Dancing Mountains were the largest donor.

"I wonder what it represents and where it came from?" I said aloud.

"Your homeland, I'd bet," Shask replied, "left especially for you."

"Why did you read it that way?"

"You've been telling me about your family as we rode along. I wouldn't
trust them."

"Those days are past."

"Who knows what might have happened while you were away? Old habits
return easily."