"Sara Douglass - Redemption 3 - Crusader" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

"He was a false StarSon only," he said, allowing his voice to flow through his closed visor like
honeyed chocolate.
It had its effect. StarLaughter visibly relaxed.
"A decoy," Qeteb continued. "The false StarSon bought the true StarSon time ... for what I am not
yet sure."
"Time," Sheol said, "to build a hidey-hole for the majority of souls of this land. He even took the
insects with him!"
A soul was a soul was a soul, and each soul fed the Demons as much as the next one. The millions of
insects that Drago's witches had squirreled away into Sanctuary had cost the Demons as dearly as the
vast numbers of people who'd managed to escape the final ravagement.
Qeteb nodded slowly, letting his gaze drift away from StarLaughter and around the mausoleum. This
dark place was all very well, but Qeteb had had enough of confinement. Soon would be the time to go
exploring.
"We will find his hiding place," the Midday Demon said, "and we will destroy it. We will feed on all it
has to offer. And then we — I — will meet this StarSon, and teach him that which he refuses to learn."
Underneath his visor Qeteb's lips stretched in a humourless smile. The StarSon might be the Enemy
Reborn, but he had been reborn with all the Enemy's mistakes tucked into whatever magic he thought he
commanded. But he, Qeteb, bad spent his millennia of confinement learning ... and learning from
the Enemy's errors. The Enemy Reborn, this uselessly tinselled StarSon, was bred to make the
same mistakes as his forebears ... but this time Qeteb was ready, and this time the Enemy
Reborn's mistakes would kill him.
Qeteb felt a sensual thrill course through his being. He had waited a hundred thousand years for
rebirth, while the Enemy had waited a hundred thousand years for death.
This time he would triumph. Qeteb knew it for truth.
"And what of that?" Barzula said, indicating the wooden bowl that lay at the foot of the
tomb. "It is magic ... but what kind? And is it dangerous?"
Qeteb walked over and picked up the bowl, stroking the wood. "StarLaughter?"
She sighed, and joined him. She rested her hand on the wood, "It is of Avar craftsmanship.
Pointless beauty."
"I disagree," Qeteb said, and brushed her hand aside. "But then, I do not blame you for it, for you
are merely woman, and a mortal who has survived on the back of my brothers' and sister's power and
their tolerance."
 StarLaughter's entire body went rigid, and her eyes hard.
Qeteb either did not notice or did not care. "This bowl has a secret," he said. "A very big and
probably very important secret."
His hand tightened about the bowl, and a tiny crack ran halfway along the rim.
"I do not like objects that are secretive!" Qeteb said, and his hand tightened fractionally more.
The crack widened.
"Ah!" Qeteb loosened his grip. He hefted the bowl lightly, and then in a smooth action threw the
bowl spinning into the darkness of the domed ceiling.
It disappeared.
"The one thing I like about secrets," Qeteb observed, his visored face once more looking at
StarLaughter, "is that they keep indefinitely. The bowl is mine, and eventually its secret will be mine."
StarLaughter held the Demon's stare, difficult as that was with no observable eyes to be found
behind the latticed metalwork of the visor. "Your brothers and sister," she said evenly,
"promised me power in return for all my aid."
To one side Sheol sniggered.
"Your aid," Qeteb said. "How amusing that you think you provided —"
"I provided you with life!" StarLaughter yelled, balling her fists at her side and taking a step closer to
Qeteb.