"Brooks - Heritage 1 - The Scions of Shannara" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)^y^ he old man sat alone in the shadow of the Dragon's
u& Teeth and watched the coming darkness chase the day- ^^^ light west. The day had been cool, unusually so for midsummer, and the night promised to be chill. Scattered clouds masked the sky, casting their silhouettes upon the earth, drifting in the manner of aimless beasts between moon and stars. A hush filled the emptiness left by the fading light like a voice waiting to speak. It was a hush that whispered of magic, the old man thought. A fire burned before him, small still, just the beginning of what was needed. After all, he would be gone for several hours. He studied the fire with a mixture of expectation and uneasiness before reaching down to add the larger chunks ofdeadwood that brought the flames up quickly. He poked at it with a stick, then stepped away, driven back by the heat. He stood at the edge of the light, caught between the fire and the growing dark, a crea- ture who might have belonged to neither or both. His eyes glittered as he looked off into the distance. The peaks of the Dragon's Teeth jutted skyward like bones the earth could not contain. There was a hush to the mountains, a secrecy that clung like mist on a frosty morning and hid all the dreams of The fire sparked sharply and the old man brushed at a stray bit of glowing ash that threatened to settle on him. He was just a bundle of sticks, loosely tied together, that might crumble into dust if a strong wind were to blow. Gray robes and a forest cloak hung on him as they would have on a scarecrow. His skin was leathery and brown and had shrunken close against his bones. White hair and beard wreathed his head, thin and fine, like 2 The Scions of Shannara wisps of gauze against the firelight. He was so wrinkled and hunched down that he looked to be a hundred years old. He was, in fact, almost a thousand. Strange, he thought suddenly, remembering his years. Para- nor, the Councils of the Races, even the Druids—gone. Strange that he should have outlasted them all. He shook his head. It was so long ago, so far back in time that it was a part of his life he only barely recognized. He had thought that part finished, gone forever. He had thought himself free. But he had never been mat, he guessed. It wasn't possible |
|
|