"Zelazny, Roger - Amber 09 - Knight Of Shadows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"Could be you're right," I said, watching the fountain continue its climb
skyward, following another pause. I gestured toward it. "Thing looks like an oil
gusher. I hope the winner knows how to cap it--if there is a winner. Neither one
of them may last much longer, the way the place is coming apart."
He chuckled.
"You underestimate the forces they've generated to protect themselves," he
said. And you know it isn't all that easy for one sorcerer to do in another by
sorcerous means. However, you've a point there when it comes to the inertia of
the mundane. With your permission...?"
I nodded.
With a quick underhand toss he cast the metal ball across the ditch toward
the burning building. It struck the ground and with each bounce thereafter it
seemed to increase in size. It produced a cymballike crash each time it hit,
entirely out of proportion with its apparent mass and velocity, and this sound
increased in volume on each successive bounce. It passed then into the burning,
tottering ruin that was the near end of the Keep and for several moments was
gone from sight.
I was about to ask him what was going on when I saw the shadow of a large
ball pass before the opening through which I had fled. The flames--save for the
central tower from the broken Fount--began to subside, and a deep rumbling sound
came from within. Moments later an even larger circular shadow passed, and I
began to feel the rumbling through the soles of my boots.
A wall tumbled. Shortly thereafter part of another wall fell. I could see
inside fairly clearly Through the dust and smoke the image of the giant ball
passed again. The flames were snuffed. My Logrus vision still granted me
glimpses of the shifting lines of power which flowed between Jasra and Sharu.
Mandor extended a hand. A minute or so later a small metal ball came
bouncing our way, and he caught it. "Let's head back," he said. "It would be a
shame to miss the end."
We passed through one of the many gaps in the fence, and sufficient rubble
filled the ditch at one point for us to walk across on it. I spent a barrier
spell then, to keep the re-forming troops of the premises and out of our way for
a time.
Entering through the broken wall, I saw that Jasra stood with her back to
the tower of fire, her arms upraised. Streaks of sweat lined her face zebra
through a mask of soot, and I could feel the pulsing of the forces which passed
through her body. About ten feet above her, face purple and head twisted to one
side as if his neck were broken, Sharu hung in the middle of the air. To the
untutored he might have seemed magically levitated. My Logrus sight gave me view
of the line of force from which he hung suspended, however, victim of what
might, I suppose, be termed a magical lynching.
"Bravo," Mandor stated, clapping his hands slowly and softly together.
"You see, Merlin? I'd have won that bet."
"You always were a better judge of talent than I was," I acknowledged.
"...and swear to serve me," I overheard Jasra saying.
Sharu's lips moved.
"And swear to serve you," he gasped.
She lowered her arms slowly, and the line of force which held him began to
lengthen. As he descended toward the Keep's cracked floor, her left hand
executed a gesture similar to one I had once seen an orchestra conductor employ