"Never trust an elf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Charrette Robert N.)

27

Once more they were in the air, in pursuit of the magical crystal and its current possessor. Neko looked around the aircraft at the strangers in whose company he traveled. This was not a new experience, of course, but an uncomfortable one when facing danger. Battle was best faced with trusted comrades, and what little comradeship left between him and the orks had evaporated under accusations that he was Enterich's agent. As for the hellions, the only thing that had ever existed between him and them was antagonism. The warriors carried by the Airstar were a strange crew, united in their grimness but so disparate in all other things.

In the cockpit, Rabo was happy to again be at the controls of a fine machine, his mood much improved since the hellions had allowed him to pilot the craft after leaving Enterich's facility. One of the cyberneti-cally enhanced toughs, Alpha, remained with him, probably to prevent him from using the craft's computer to backtrack their course. Enterich seemed determined to cloak his lair in mystery. A fine challenge to find it, should they survive this run.

The other hellion, Beta, sat with a stillness unnatural in a living being. He simply watched them all, taking no part in the fitful, short conversations.

The Weeze checked and rechecked her weapons, paying particular attention to the Colt M22A2 assault rifle the hellions had given her from the stock aboard the Airstar. It wasn't clear whether she distrusted it because it came from Glasgian's stock or because the hellions had given it to her, but her suspicion was obvious, her behavior strangely compulsive.

Kham sat staring at the blackness of the opaqued window. Neko didn't know if the big ork was looking at his own reflection or staring off at some inner landscape. Perhaps he pondered the future of which Lofwyr had spoken, or the dragon's curious proverb concerning the wise, the talented, and the lucky. Whatever thoughts occupied the big ork's mind, they isolated him from the rest of the Airstar's passengers.

Ratstomper sat by herself, unusual for her. But then she had withdrawn since Ryan's death. That was just as well; she was the one who had first turned a weapon on Neko when they had thought he was in Enterich's employ. If she still believed that, she might try again, but not until the danger was over. She was a victim of her emotions, but Kham hoped she was not so foolhardy as to start a fight under the hellions' eyes. Those metal monsters might not care to distinguish between the initiator and the victim of any fight between her and Neko.

For his own part, Neko found no need to talk. What was there to say? Soon they would be facing a hostile, powerful elf and whatever allies he might call up. Already they had made what skeletal plans they could. Without more information, further discussion would not gain them anything. They were in the hands of fate, set to win or lose according to their karma. Lofwyr seemed to think them lucky. Could a dragon detect such things? If so, and if Lofwyr had detected what he called luck in them, they might survive this night. After all, what was luck but good karma?

Unlike the compulsive Weezer, Neko did not feel the need to check his weapons. He'd done it after making his choice from among those in the Airstar's arsenal. The Colt assault rifle sitting across his knees was heavier than he normally liked to carry, but more suitable to the task at hand. He had found no deficiencies in the weapon or its ammunition, such as The Weeze seemed to be searching for. Why should there be? Lofwyr wanted Glasgian stopped; he would not send them into battle armed with inoperative or malfunctioning weapons. If Lofwyr wanted the team to die in the battle, he could leave the task to his hellions. The dragon's watchdogs were better-armed and better-armored, the most likely survivors of the battle. They would be able to silence any extraneous persons who managed to escape from the elf.

But the answers to all such questions and speculations were in the future, and to ponder them now was fruitless unless one could do constructive planning. With all the variables, that wasn't possible at the moment. Good karma or bad, they would meet the fate that awaited them. Neko relaxed into his seat, feeling the thrumming vibration of the aircraft's engines. Letting himself sink into the rhythm, he found rest. It would be time for action soon enough.

Glasgian had never known power like the crystal granted him. Since bonding it to him, he had felt wonderful, stronger than he'd ever been, capable of-well, of anything. No wonder Urdli had wanted to keep him from it; the morkhan must have wanted it all to himself.

The flight from Seattle had been exhilarating. To ride the wind like that, to move under the power of his own will. Never had he known such freedom in this world. It was almost like journeying astrally. To will movement and have it happen, with no regard for flesh, no recourse to machines. It was marvelous.

He touched down briefly at the site where they had uncovered the crystal, just long enough to assure himself that the calculations were correct. The stone knew; he could feel it in the vibrations of the crystal lattice. The resonance was perfect, focused where it should be.

Glasgian laughed aloud. Vindication was wonderful, but what was to come would be even better. This was just the start.

With tonight's work done, they would see, they would all see, that he was right. Now was the time. This was to be the cycle that would see elvenkind triumphant. And Glasgian would continue to lead the way, as he had just done. There would be no place for laggards and faint hearts like Urdli. Let the old fossil crawl back under his rock and hide his head. The new order was coming. Glasgian's order. He would be a new Lojan, bestriding the world like a victorious colossus.

He flew with breathtaking speed to his destination, a stretch of nondescript forest. To the mortal, mundane eye the place would have looked ordinary. It might even have seemed ordinary to Glasgian had he been here a week ago. But no longer. Ever since he had bonded to the crystal, his senses were expanded, empowered. He saw all things more clearly than ever before.

As he brought the stone lower, the small life of the forest noticed his approach and began to scatter. "Run!" he called out to them. "Run and tell of the dawn of the new age."

He roved over the ground, studying the form of what he had sought for so long. Running his astral senses along its boundaries, he felt its size and shape, perceived its contents. It was not as he had expected. It was larger, its form more irregular, and its content greater, but none of that mattered. With the crystal bound to his will, he had the key. The cache was his now to do with as he willed.

He brought the crystal down on a small rise just south of the structure. The south was appropriate; south was the home of fire, and fire was what he brought. Before he called that fire, he wanted to see his prize. Summoning an earth elemental seemed the obvious choice to lay it bare. Obvious and facile. An air elemental was a better choice. Earth shielded what he sought; let the opposing element rip bare the hidden treasure.

Having made the decision, he wasted no more time, summoning a spirit more powerful than he would have dared try to control yesterday. The branches of the trees rustled as if greeting the new arrival. The elemental would have been visible even to the unaided eye, its power a shimmering ripple in the air, but to Glasgian's heightened senses it was a glorious aurora of power swirling in a tight whirlwind. Such power, such beauty, and it had come to do his bidding. So, let it do that bidding.

He ordered the elemental to clear away the sediment that hid what he wished to see. Instantly, leaves and loose debris began to shift and skitter along the ground, moving faster and faster in a whirlwind tumble. Loose dirt and larger branches joined the tumult and the wind rose to a roar. The cyclonic effect grew until trees were uprooted and flung away. The tempest grew stronger still. Stones and massive clods of earth were ripped wholesale from the ground and swirled higher into the funnel. The soil was torn away, then the underlying rock strata fragmented under the ero-sional effect and was swept away as well.

Glasgian's senses tingled in harmony to a quiver in the crystal. The elemental's assault had awakened the magical defenses of the hidden cache. They trembled on the verge of acting against the elemental, almost activating. Those defenses were strong enough to scatter the arcane energy of Glasgian's summoning, but with the crystal in his power, those defenses belonged to Glasgian now. He willed them to stillness and watched gleefully as the elemental laid bare his spoils. When the deed was done, he dismissed the spirit and contemplated the newly uncovered spheres.

They were of many sizes and colors, variations on a theme. He might even have found the sight pleasant, had he not known what lay within. He selected one at random. It was larger than most, a pale yellow sphere speckled with a faint dusting of charcoal and umber flecks. With the power of his mind, he pulled it from its resting place.

The contact of his telekinetic touch and his heightened sensitivity told him that this one was almost ready to hatch; so ready that it might survive being broken free of the shell. In the interest of scientific experiment, Glasgian decided to see. He exerted pressure on the shell, delicately balancing the interplay of power so that he exerted enough force to crack the shell without completely crushing what lay within. Cracks ran across the surface in a jagged rush. The shards of shell fell away in a gush of amniotic fluid, but he did not let the embryo fall. Oh no, that was too easy.

He stared at the ugly thing, noting its leathery pale gray hide, the tucked and folded wings spiky with the beginnings of feathers, the wedge-shaped head bumpy with babyish horns, all blunt save for the now-useless egg "tooth" on its nose. It was every bit as vile as he had imagined, but at least he was in a position to do something about it. This one would never grow up. He bathed it in fire and laughed to hear its pitiful shrieks.

"Screech all you want, worm. You are mine. There will be no answer to your bawlings while I hold the key to the nest."

It turned its head to him when he spoke, its filmed eyes searching for the source of its torment. Glasgian did not believe that it really understood, but its affinity for magic would let it locate him as the source of the occult flames torturing it. It mewled, begging for relief.

With a gesture, he stopped the flames. The beast whimpered in relief. He let it enjoy the moment; then, with a wide sweep of his arms, rent it limb from limb while simultaneously crushing its rib cage. Dropping the torn and broken form like the trash it was, he reached for another.

"There he is," Rabo called as the polarity of the windows shifted to transparency. Already facing out, Kham could see the glow on the horizon. The sky outside the window looked like sunset, but the time was nearer to midnight. So, what Kham was looking at had to be hell.

Rabo put the Airstar into a long, banking turn that would give them a better, more protected angle of approach. The hellion in the cabin remained were he was, but The Weeze and Ratstomper crowded Kham. His window offered the best angle to see the flickering light show. The catboy only raised his head a little and cast a sleepy-eyed glance out the window.

The glow of Glasgian's magic pulsated as if the power were fluctuating, but Kham didn't dare hope that it might be so. The brighter bursts probably only meant that Glasgian was unleashing specific localized spells. Destructive spells, to judge by how much the Airstar was being buffeted by rough air. It was almost like making an approach through triple-A. Those spells might soon be coming their way and it would get even a lot more like triple-A. Lethally like it.

To avoid that, Rabo took them down to treetop level, trying to get closer without revealing their approach to the elf. The rigger was supposed to find a spot close in, where they could unload. Once the passengers had debarked, the orks and hellions would close on foot and Rabo would wait for the assault, bringing the chopper in as fire support.

Beta got up as his partner came into the cabin, opening the main door while Alpha said something. The wind rushing in and the noise of the whirling rotors carried away the hellion's words.

The ground was quite close, and getting closer.

It was almost time.

"Lock and load, chummers," Kham shouted, loud enough so his voice could be heard. He slapped the magazine on his weapon to be sure it was snugged home, then worked the charger. He couldn't hear the sound of it slapping home, but the smooth feel of the action told him the weapon was ready.

It was time.

One by one they jumped from the hovering chopper.