"Dan Parkinson. The Gates of Thorbardin ("DragonLance Saga Heroes II" #2) (angl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

sheer stone, narrowing as it went. Finally he could go no
farther. He had pushed himself into the final rift as
tightly as he could, holding his breath, and he felt the
cold rock scraping at his flesh.
He tilted his head to peer upward. Far above was sky,
and its path was wider than the cleft that swallowed him
front and back. Using the rock walls as pressing surfaces,
he raised himself a few inches, bracing with his elbows at
the rock before him, with his feet at the rock behind. His
breath was a cloud of steam, hanging in the cold, still air
around him, condensing on chill stone as he worked.
By inches he crept upward, levering himself between
two surfaces. A foot, then three, then seven he climbed,
using his forearms thrust ahead of him - then his hands
as the chimney widened above. When he could no longer
climb, when his outthrust arms would not reach farther
and give purchase, he looked down. He was fifteen feet
above the bottom of the crevasse and could go no higher.
He was still within reach of a hunting cat, he knew.
Any one of the great beasts, as tall at the shoulder as he
was at the ears, could leap this high. His chest heaving,
his breath a cloud in the shadows of dark stone, he clung
and waited. He could go no farther.
"Come on, then, pouncer," he muttered. "You have my
scent and you know where I am, so you are the chosen
one. Come along, now, and let's get it done. I'm tired."
Tiny clickings echoed up the split, needle tips of great
claws tapping at stone as the beast padded nearer. Now

he could hear its breath, the deep-chested, rumbling purr
of a huge cat closing on its prey.
Shadows shifted in the cleft, and he looked upward.
High above, where the walls opened upon sky, some-
thing moved. A face was there, tiny and distant, looking
down at him. It was there, then it withdrew. Someone
was atop the escarpment, above the rended cliffs, some-
one curious enough to look down and see what was hap-
pening below. But whoever it was, it meant nothing to
him, here. All that mattered in this moment was that he
was here, the cat was coming... and in a place far away
Jilian waited for him. He had promised her he would
return.
In the cold mist of his breath, he now saw her face. Of
them all, she was the only one who had truly believed
him. The only one with faith in him. He had told her
about the dreams. He had told several others, as well,
but of them all, Jilian believed.
Rogar Goldbuckle might have believed about the
dreams, but not about their portent. Goldbuckle had lis-
tened, stood for a time in thought, then shook his head.