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

sacrifice of her sister.

The news of Katera's Summons rolled through Parallon like an avalanche from the surrounding Shirkas.
Her mother had lamented this second Summons loudly, and her father, furious and still grieving the loss of
Adrella, had fought the elders as they had restrained him from rushing up Kan Mountain to confront
Askinadon himself.

Katera refused to subject her parents to another presentation at the altar. Perhaps even more, she
wanted to defy the god that had never appeared before her people, yet ruled them with the intensity of
one who lived inside their minds and hearts, privy to every desire and weakness. She would not give
herself over so easily. Better to engineer her own demise, sending the message to Askinadon that not all
would obey him or his perverse Voice.

Katera. Come to the altar.

At the bottom of the hill, she slid down a short, muddy bank and plunged headlong into the raging river,
hoping to drown forever the Voice that was still hissing words into her mind. Immediately, the current
swept her into the frothing center and sent her bobbing downstream toward the falls. It tugged at her feet,
pulling her down, and it was all she could do to keep her head above the water. Her raven dark hair,
which had been bundled behind her head, tore loose from its clasp and flowed out in great lengths around
her.

Come to Kopa Na An tonight as the sun touches the edge of the western Shirkas.

"I'll die first!" she shouted to the sky, and allowed the river to swell over her head.

She did not want to live another day if it meant surrendering to Askinadon. She felt herself pulled more
rapidly downstream toward the falls and a sure death. Beyond the edge, the water plummeted five
hundred feet onto a large pile of rocks, before cascading another hundred feet into a deep pool. Katera
did not struggle. It was the only way.

As she rounded a bend in the river, her head burst out of the water, and the roar of the falls filled her
ears. It would not be long now. She twisted her body around to see the edge where the path of water
disappeared. Ah, there it was. She wanted to see it. She wanted to watch as she dipped over the side.
She would cry out her blasphemy then, at the last moment. She'd use the old language-the forbidden one.
Askinadon would be powerless to silence her.

Akka Ya Askindon. Damn you, Askinadon.

He had never before been denied a virgin. It was time. Time to crack through his fortress of uncontested
power. Time to demonstrate the force of a will other than his own.

The current released her feet, so she turned on her stomach and stretched out on top of the water,
bracing herself for the dive.

Something snagged her foot. A violent yank stopped her dead in the middle of the river, sending swells of
froth churning around her. She gasped and shook her foot furiously, but whatever it was, it held her
unyielding. Then, it slowly turned her ankle, dragging her body onto its side. In a series of short, powerful
tugs, it jerked her against the current toward the riverbank.