"Ann Durand - Flight of the Gryphon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Durand Ann)

Katera's heart vaulted in a series of leaps, but she couldn't be sure if it was Mikolen's grand idea that
thrilled her, or the warm touch of his fingers intertwined with hers.

Chapter Seven
Kastak Morchison slid the bolt from the heavy gate that led into the corrals housing the rocsadons, the
fiendish dragon-pets of Askinadon. He dreaded the assignment ahead, though it was supposedly an
honor to perform it. Askinadon had given the order to him personally, not through the VisiOrb. To defy
such an order was an invitation to torture, perhaps even death, though it was rare for Askinadon to kill a
Kastak.

Long, intense indoctrination and training marked the creation of this pseudo-elite corps, and at only
thirty-one strong, they were too few in number for Askinadon to eliminate any of them without a cause
for concern. Still, all were well acquainted with the wrath of Askinadon. On several occasions, when
goods or materials turned up missing, such as lab equipment, ullis, even food, they were collectively
tortured, even after the VisiOrbs had cleared every one of them.

Wearing a scowl, Morchison shoved the gate open several feet and poked his head through it to the large
holding area on the other side. Several chained animals lifted their massive heads and eyed him. He
struggled to keep his breathing slow and even. He knew how well these beasts could smell fear…rumor
had it they could detect your sweat half a mile away. He wiped his brow. It was said they could feel your
heart pounding through their feet as the vibrations traveled from your body across the ground.

Not that they could harm him now, he reassured himself, closing the gate while surveying the thick chains
and short leads that wrapped from gigantic posts to equally formidable legs. Morchison waved to Kastak
Timoton, who had just finished tethering a rocsadon. Timoton swiped an arm over a sweat-drenched
brow and waved back, wearing a look of exhaustion. Timoton appeared more than ready to relinquish
the arena. Before he could escape, Morchison called to him.

"I need you to spot for me."

Timoton slowed-gave Morchison a pained look. "Which one?"

"Gorgeron."

Timoton stiffened. "Gorgeron?" His voice had risen an octave. "Crap, I don't know…"
"Askinadon's orders," came the quick reply.

No way did Morchison intend to handle this monstrous alpha male by himself. Timoton didn't have to
know the job had been entrusted to Morchison alone. Timoton's shoulders slumped, but he nodded and
retrieved his tiket, the long pole with fine claws for gripping and maneuvering the locks and chains around
the animals' feet.

"Who's on the menu?" Timoton asked, as he trudged back toward Morchison.

"Don't know, but I don't think it's a random pick. Askinadon seemed very…intent."

"This one's not for sport, then?"

"No, I don't think he's trying to terrorize the whole village this time. He's targeting a single individual."