"Sara Douglass - The Axis Trilogy 1 - BattleAxe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

reached it through the amniotic fluid of its mother's womb, it twisted and struck
harder.
Even though she knew she was all but doomed, the primeval urge to keep
making the effort to escape kept her moving through the snow, grunting with
each step, jerking every time her child beat at the confines of her womb. But
now the urge to escape consumed the child as much as its mother.
The five wraiths hung back a few paces in the snow, enjoying the woman's
fear. The chase was going well.
Then, strangely, the woman twisted and jerked mid-step and crashed to the
ground, writhing and clutching at the heaving mound of her belly. The wraiths,
surprised by this sudden development in the chase, had to sidestep quickly out
of the way, and slowed to circle the woman at a safe distance just out of arm's
reach.
She screamed. It was a sound of such terror, wrenched from the very
depths of her body, that the wraiths moaned in ecstasy.
She turned to the nearest wraith, extending a hand for mercy. "Help me,"
she whispered. "Please, help me!"
The wraiths had never been asked for help before. They began to mill in
confusion. Was she no longer afraid of them? Why was that? Wasn't every flesh
and blood creature afraid of them? Their minds communed and they wondered if
perhaps they should be afraid too.
The woman convulsed, and the snow stained bright red about her hips.
The smell and sight of warm blood reached the wraiths, reassuring them.
This one was going to die more quickly than they had originally expected.
Spontaneously. Without any help from their sharp pointed fangs. Sad, but she
would still taste sweet. They drifted about in the freezing wind, watching,
waiting, wanting.
After a few more minutes the woman moaned once, quietly, and then lay
still, her face alabaster, her eyes opened and glazed, her hands slowly
unclenching.
The wraiths bobbed as the wind gusted through them and considered. The
chase had started so well. She had feared well. But she had died strangely.
The most courageous of the five drifted up to the woman and considered
her silently for a moment longer. Finally, the coppery smell of warm blood
decided it and it reached down an insubstantial claw to worry at the leather
thongs of her tunic. After a moment's resistance the leather fell open — and the
one adventuresome wraith was so surprised it leapt back to the safe circling
distance of its comrades.
In the bloody mess that had once been the woman's belly lay a child, glaring
defiantly at them, hate steeping from every one of its bloodied pores.
It had eaten its way out.
"Ooooh!" the wraiths cooed in delight, and the more courageous of them
drifted forward again and picked up the bloody child.
"It hates," it whispered to the others. "Feel it?"
The other wraiths bobbed closer, emotion close to affection misting their
orbs.
The child turned its tusked head and glared at the wraiths. It hiccupped, and
a small bubble of blood frothed at the corner of its mouth.
"Aaah!" the wraiths cooed again, and huddled over the baby. Without a
word they made their momentous decision. They would take it home. They