"Roger Zelazny - Amber Chronicles, The 08 - Sign of Chaos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"A Bandersnatch!" someone cried.
"A frumious Bandersnatch! " Humpty corrected.
As I spoke the final word and performed the ultimate gesture, the image
of the Logrus swam before my inner vision. The dark creature, having just
extended its foremost talons, suddenly drew them back, clutched with them
against the upper left quadrant of its breast, rolled its eyes, emitted a
soft moaning sound, exhaled heavily, collapsed, fell to the floor, and
rolled over onto its back, its many feet extended upward into the air.
The Cat's grin appeared above the creature. The mouth moved.
"A dead frumious Bandersnatch," it stated.
The grin drifted toward me, the rest of the Cat occurring about it like
an afterthought.
"That was a cardiac arrest spell, wasn't it?" it inquired.
"I guess so," I said. "It was sort of a reflex. Yeah, I remember now. I
did still have that spell hanging around. "
"I thought so," it observed. "I was sure that there was magic involved
in this party."
The image of the Logrus which had appeared to me during the spell's
operation had also served the purpose of switching on a small light in the
musty attic of my mind. Sorcery. Of course.
I-Merlin, son of Corwin-am a sorcerer, of a variety seldom encountered
in the areas I have frequented in recent years. Lucas Raynard-also known as
Prince Rinaldo of Kashfa-is himself a sorcerer, albeit of a style different
than my own. And the Cat, who seemed somewhat sophisticated in these
matters, could well have been correct in assessing our situation as the
interior of a spell. Such a location is one of the few environments where my
sensitivity and training would do little to inform me as to the nature of my
predicament. This, because my faculties would also be caught up in the
manifestation and subject to 'its forces, if the thing were at all self
consistent. It struck me as something similar to color blindness. I could
think of no way of telling for certain what was going on, without outside
help.
As I mused over these matters, the King's horses and men arrived beyond
the swinging doors at the front of the place. The men entered and fastened
lines upon the carcass of the Bandersnatch. The horses dragged the thing
off. Humpty had climbed down to visit the rest room while this was going on.
Upon his return he discovered that he was unable to achieve his former
position atop- the barstool. He shouted to the King's men to give him a
hand, but they were busy guiding the defunct Bandersnatch among tables and
they ignored him.
Luke strolled up, smiling.
"So that was a Bandersnatch," he observed. "I'd always wondered what
they were like. Now, if we could just get a Jabberwock to stop by-"
"Sh!" cautioned the Cat. "It must be off 'in the mural somewhere, and
likely it's been listening. Don't stir it up! It may come whiffling through
the tulgey wood after your ass. Remember the jaws that bite, the claws that
catch! Don't go looking for troub-"
The Cat cast a quick glance toward the wall and phased into and out of
existence several times in quick succession. Ignoring this, Luke remarked,
"I was just thinking of the Tenniel illustration."