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

"Yep. Stanson lashed the ripping tails into its face; a tack even lodged in the animal's eye and ripped it,
but it didn't make any difference."

A reverent silence fell between them as Timoton fumbled with the last lock and chain. Visions of Stanson
inside the rocsadon's mouth head first, his legs jutting from the jaws and slicing the air like scissors,
played through Morchison's mind as the last lock fell open.

"Now!" Timoton shouted.

Morchison lowered the tiket toward Gorgeron's prostrated head as the animal snorted in anticipation.
The cloth fell over his wide nostrils. Gorgeron bellowed painfully and shook his head, sending the cloth
drifting to the ground in front of him. There he plunged his head into it, thumping and rubbing his nose
over it as the muscles along the length of him twitched and tensed. Morchison lifted the ripping tails over
Gorgeron's head.

"Go!" he shouted, and lashed the tails into the air. They whistled, stinging the air just inches from the great
beast's head, and still he thrashed his nose into the cloth as if nothing else existed. "Go!" Morchison
commanded again, allowing the ripping tails to tear a gash in the side of the rocsadon's head.

Gogeron blinked, shook his head, and stretched his neck up and out. He opened his jaws wide and
inhaled, then blew out a long and haunting cry. It resounded over the high walls of the corral and sent an
ominous warning to all on the other side.

Good, the hunting call. He was ready. Morchison nodded to Timoton, who removed the bolt and pushed
the gate wide open. Huffing wildly, Gorgeron dashed for the opening with the explosive force of a
volcano. As he disappeared through it, Timoton screamed into a megaphone.

"Rocsadon coming through!"

A thick, dark cloud of dust churned behind Gorgeron as he thundered past rows of hostas bordering a
trail down the mountain that had suddenly been rendered empty. Morchison sighed heavily, returned the
tiket to its sheath, and motioned Timoton to follow him out of the corral. It would be eight hours before
Gorgeron returned, and Askinadon was busy in his bedchamber. He'd delivered the new wife, Shamana,
to the horny old goat himself. Morchison had two good hours of precious time without labor or duty or
that damned Voice inside his head.

He'd use the time to dream about unleashing a rocsadon on Askinadon and eliminating the jerk. He'd
love to do more than merely dream about it…if another Kastak hadn't already tried it and failed.
Askinadon alone kept weapons powerful enough to destroy a rocsadon. He had put one of the monsters
down as it had charged toward him a few years ago. Then he'd undertaken an intense investigation using
the VisiOrbs to read the thoughts of every Kastak. The renegade Kastak had finally revealed himself
and, after several long days and nights, had succumbed to his tortures. Nope, no one had tried it since.
But he could dream-yes, he could.
Chapter Eight
With her heart breaking, Adrella kissed her father on both cheeks and held her mother in a tight embrace
before stepping back to look at them. Her mother's face had turned a splotchy red, though the morning
was cool and breezy. Adrella drew in a quaking breath that threatened to shatter her frail composure, but
at the last moment managed to press her lips together and smile. Mama was wringing her hands and
looking strained. Papa cleared his throat and looked at his feet.