|
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
massive hills that blocked passage to the west and east. Holiday and his companions had come through
the draw on the way to the dragon; the hoof prints of the horses made that plain enough. They would
return the same way. But this time she would have the wurm waiting for them. She hopped across the
ground on her bird feet to the tiny puddle of seepage water that sat back in the shadow of the rocks and
had not yet evaporated with the heat of the day. A little water was all it took; a little would be more than
enough.
She held the wurm over the water, watching it struggle to get free. She was tired of holding it. It was bad
enough that she d been forced to travel all the way to the Wastelands in nonhuman form, not daring to
use her magic for fear it would reveal her presence and give the game away. But having to keep a secure
grip on the little monster for so long was really too much. She had been able to put it down last night,
safely up in the rocks where the ground was dry and hard and offered the creature no escape. Now she
was ready to release it for good. She was thinking that she would like to stay around to see what would
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
happen when she did, but she had been gone from the Deep Fell for a long time now, and she didn t like
leaving the girl alone. Mistaya was growing impatient with the direction and limitation of her lessons. In
fact, the wurm had been Nightshade s idea, devised when the girl had failed to come up with anything
new. She was still obedient, but there were signs that the girl might test the rules Nightshade had imposed
on her. Mistaya was incredibly gifted, both with imagination and with talent, and under the witch s
tutelage her skills at applying her magic had grown formidable. If she ever chose to challenge Nightshade
...
The witch brushed the idea aside with a sneer. She was not frightened of Mistaya. She wasn t frightened
of anyone.
But it didn t hurt to be cautious.
She made up her mind. It was best that she return to the Deep Fell as quickly as she could. It was best
that she make certain Mistaya did not step out of line.
She dropped the wurm into the puddle of water and watched it sink. Then she flew swiftly away.
Ben Holiday peered into the distance, catching sight of the draw that led through the rugged Wasteland
hills to the flats beyond. The light was so poor this day, its clarity so diluted by heat and mist, that
everything appeared fuzzy and distorted. Even the horizon shimmered as if it were a mirage in danger of
disappearing altogether. Ahead, the draw was a mass of impenetrable shadows.
He guided Jurisdiction toward the opening, his mind on other things.
He was thinking again about that robot. Why was it so familiar? Where had he seen it? He was
absolutely certain by now that he had, and it was maddening that he could not remember from where.
Complicating matters was his growing suspicion that he had seen Rydall s other monsters, as well. And
he was now willing to bet, having given the matter considerable thought, that he had seen them since
coming into Landover. Yet how could that be? They couldn t have been alive; he would have
remembered that. Had Questor or Abernathy told him about them? Had someone described them to
him? Had he seen a drawing or a picture?
They reached the edge of the shadows that marked the entrance to the draw. Ahead, the passageway
was dark and empty. Ben nudged Jurisdiction forward, his stomach grumbling softly as he savored the
prospect of lunch.
Suddenly Bunion chittered in warning. Ben glanced down at the kobold, who was looking back from
where they had come. Ben followed his gaze, shading his eyes against the glare of the sun. At first he saw
nothing. Then he caught sight of a tiny black speck hanging low against the horizon. The speck seemed to
be growing larger.
Ben blinked uncertainly. What in the heck is
That was all he got out before the ground in front of them erupted in a shower of earth and rock and
something huge and dark rose out of the draw s deep shadows. Bunion catapulted over Crane, snatching
Willow from the saddle an instant before the horse was swallowed whole by the thing before it. There
was a terrified scream and the crunching of bones. Dust and heat filled the air. Jurisdiction leapt away in
panic, barely avoiding the massive jaws that reached now for him, sweeping past Ben s head with
ferocious purpose. Ben hung on as his horse bolted, catching just a glimpse of the thing attacking
them a monstrous snake of some sort, faceless, eyeless, all teeth and maw, its purplish body smooth
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
and ringed like ...
Like a worm s, for goodness sake!
Ben reached instinctively for the medallion, but Jurisdiction was shying so badly skittering up the slope
of a steep rise, twisting and bucking in terror that he had to abandon the attempt and grasp the saddle
and reins with both hands to avoid being thrown. He saw Bunion and Willow scrambling up the far side
of the draw and into the rocks. The monster dove downward suddenly into the earth, wriggling
underground, its great bulk disappearing in the manner of a whale s beneath the surface of an ocean. It
burrowed down, the earth rising above it as it tunneled, and the line of the tunnel moved directly toward
Ben.
Ben kicked Jurisdiction frantically, trying to make the horse come down off the rise. But Jurisdiction was
panicked beyond all reason and could think only to climb higher. It was a losing battle, the horse s
hooves slipping badly on the loose rock and earth, its progress stalled. Ben wrenched the horse s head
about and sent him scrambling along the side of the slope parallel to the crest, still hoping to turn him
downward. Behind them the earth buckled and lifted, the monster turning to follow.
The gap between them closed.
In desperation Ben released his grip on the saddle and tried to reach inside his tunic for the medallion.
But the instant he did so Jurisdiction stumbled and went down, throwing him head over heels into the
scrub. The terrified horse came back to his feet at once and this time bolted down the slope to safety.
Ben was not so fortunate. Dazed and bloodied from his spill, he scrambled up and began racing ahead
without any idea what it was he was racing toward, aware only that the subterranean horror was almost
on top of him. Rocks and earth split and rumbled as the creature s huge bulk tunneled deliberately in
pursuit. Ben groped for the medallion, feeling its hardness through the fabric of his tunic, unable to work it
free from where it lodged in the folds. Sweat and blood ran down into his eyes, blinding him. Any
moment now his attacker would surface. Any moment it would have him. He could feel the medallion s
smooth edge, could touch its engraved surface through the tunic cloth.Another moment! Just one more
. . . !
Then earth and rock exploded skyward, knocking Ben off his feet and sending him tumbling away. He
lost his grip on the medallion and landed on his back with a sharp grunt, the wind knocked from his lungs.
The worm-thing towered over him, earth-encrusted body arching forward, jaws opening, mouth reaching
down.
Ben twisted wildly in an effort to escape, knowing he was too late, knowing he could not.The
medallion! he thought.Have to . .. !
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plmew.pev.pl
|