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

completely translucent. They glowed with a silvery hue, and as they floated down by the score the
outlines of individual bodies were lost in the collective rainbow-coloured shimmer of wings and flashing
eyes.
DareWing had never seen anything so beautiful, nor so deadly. Each warrior's eyes shone
brilliant with determination, with anger, with the need for the fight.
 "Your Strike Force," said DragonStar, awed himself. "My vanguard."
"What do you want us to do?" DareWing said. His eyes had not left the milling hue before him.
"I want you to fight for me," said DragonStar softly, and a great cry went up from the massed
warriors.

Qeteb leaned over the saddle of his beast and laughed. "It was
that easy?"
StarGrace inclined her head.
"That tower will lead us straight to the huddled masses?" StarGrace waved a hand about languidly.
"Almost instantly." "There must be a trap somewhere," Sheol muttered. "It can't
be this straightforward!"
"The tower is a simple thing," StarGrace said. "It does as it is bid."
Qeteb sat and thought. It was too easy, but he wasn't sure where the difficulty would be: in their use
of Spiredore, or in their attempts to reach the crowd of souls awaiting their appetites across the chasm.
"There is something else," StarGrace said, and Qeteb jerked out of his reverie.
"Yes?"
StarGrace told them of the two men she'd seen pass briefly through the tower.
Qeteb stared at her, then grinned. "We have them," he whispered, and the whisper reached into
every corner of the land. "Not this hour, or even this day, but we will eventually have them."
He laughed, and then waved his fellow Demons through the door into Spiredore. As they entered,
Qeteb turned and thrust his fist towards StarLaughter.
"Stay here, bitch," he said, "because if you are not here when I return, I will hunt you down and
stake your naked body out on the wasteland for the dogs and boars to couple with."

"Stay here," DragonStar said, "until I need you."
Dare Wing raised one black eyebrow.
"Something is not right with Spiredore," DragonStar continued, "and I would rather not risk you.
You will be safe enough — more than safe! — within the Field of Flowers."
"When will you call me?"
DragonStar shrugged. "When the time is right, my friend. What else can I say?"
"Be careful," Dare Wing said, and DragonStar nodded, letting his eyes drift over the shifting throng
of silvery bodies before him, before giving Dare Wing a perfunctory smile.
Then he turned to one side, drew the glowing doorway, and stepped through into Spiredore.
DareWing stared at the spot where he'd vanished, then furrowed his brow thoughtfully. Surely he
would be able to move back into the wasteland in the same manner he'd moved into the Field? To
imagine the environment, the sensations, the smells? Then, of course, he'd be able to transfer back here
whenever the need arose.
In the meantime, his band of glinting warriors could be what they'd trained for in their previous
lifetimes: a Strike Force.
"Let me prepare the way for you, StarSon," Dare Wing whispered.

DragonStar knew the instant he stepped into Spiredore that he'd transferred into crisis.
When he and DareWing had come through previously, DragonStar had felt a wrongness within the
tower, but it had been nothing compared to this.
And he knew precisely what it was, for he had felt this before.