"Zelazny, Roger - Amber Short Stories 04 - Coming To A Cord" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"Oh, what's that?" he asked, slicing off another section and slipping on
its gooey exudation as he retreated.

_You might well be able to draw enough energy through Werewindle to
destroy a world._

"Really?" he said, struggling to regain his feet as a section of the
creature thrust itself upon him. "All right."

He touched it with the point of his blade and it withdrew from him as if
shocked. Then he rose to his feet.

"You're right," he said. "There's something to it." He touched the
attacking segment again and it vanished in a burst of blue fire. "Flora! Get
back!" he cried.

She did, and he proceeded to incinerate the section that had been about to
attack her. Then another that came at him.

"I'm getting the hang of it," he said, turning to get another segment.
"But I'm not quite sure why it works this way."

_It's not just a sword,_ I said.

"What is it, then?"

_Long before there was Werewindle, it was the spikard Rawg._

"Spikard? Like that strange ring Merlin picked up?"

_Exactly._

With rapid moves then, Luke disposed of the rest of the guisel.

"Thanks, Frakir," he said, "for telling me how the thing worked. I'd better
try a quick search for that sorcerer now, though I've a hunch he disappeared
into the nearest mirror."

_I'd guess that, too._

"What was his name?"

_He didn't say._

"It figures."

"Flora," he continued, "I'm going to look for that sorcerer. I'll be back
in a bit. Good show."

She gave him a smile and he departed. Needless to say, the sorcerer did