"Diane Duane - Tales Of The Five 1 - The Door Into Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duane Diane)

He took a moment to clear his mind out, and then concentrated on
seeing the thing in his hands, not as a sword, but as a great
number of particles of metal that just

toward the dancing sparks of steel, into them, through them, and
out again, and back in - winding the soul-stuff through the
structure, beckoning it in and around, luring in onward with
promises of Power about to be achieved. The Flame followed after,
hopeful. Herewiss tangled the bit of himself like a bright cord,
weaving it through itself again and again, drawing it finer and
finer, silver wire thinning out to silver web, and always followed
by that faint blue flow of Fire. Finally the steeldust glitter
could hardly be seen at all for the sorcerer's weave stranded
through it.

Herewiss stood back a little, then cut the web's attachment to him
with one sharp word.

It hurt. He had expected it to, but he had no time now to deal
with the ache. The entangled soul would start undoing itself
almost immediately if he didn't bind it. He spoke in his mind the
word that would activate the binding sorcery, and it heard him and
responded on the instant, the hard dark links of restrainment
drawing in close around the shining bar, snicking in cold and
tight like a sudden scabbard, prisoning the soul-stuff within.

He stepped back to make sure that the sorcery would hold without
his immediate supervision. It did. He poked at it once,
experimentally; it resisted him.

Satisfied, he broke trance and opened his eyes.

He had to blink for a few moments; his eyes watered with the
seeming brightness of the tower room. It was full of smith's
furnishings: the middle of the room was taken up by the forge, a
wide brick pit with a downhanging bellows, and there was a pedal-


file:///G|/rah/Diane%20Duane%20-%20Tales%20...ive%2001%20-%20The%20Door%20Into%20Fire.htm (2 of 287) [2/13/2004 11:51:14 PM]
Tale of The Five Vol 1 - The Door Into Fire

powered grindstone in one corner. Anvils, ingots, and scraps of
metal were everywhere. A number of blanks of the Darthene steel
were leaned up in a row against one wall, like so many barrel-
staves.

The fire in the forge was out, and the tools were racked up on the
walls. Halwerd, his son, was also sitting on the floor, over
against the other paneled wall beside the window; he had taken off