"Elrod, P N - I, Strahd 1 - Memoirs of a Vampire e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

With sincere thanks to Tracy and Laura Hickman,
Christie Golden, and the many other explorers who came to Ravenloft first.

And a special thanks to Forrest J Ackerman, who had a hand (or was that a claw?)
in influencing my work.



Prologue
Though it was a bright, hot dawn outside, there were no windows in this part of
the castle. Van Richten had to provide his own light in the form of a small
lantern, which he gripped with a white-knuckled fist. He paused on the last,
rough-hewn step at the top of the spiral staircase, caught his breath, and held
the lantern as high as his slight stature allowed. Its feeble glow only managed
to push back the darkness for a scant few yards, just enough for him to see that
the room was apparently empty of threatening occupants. That fact, of course,
meant nothing in this place.
He glanced back the way he'd come. Cold stone walls curved sharply down into
utter blackness, utter silence. The fingertips of his left hand, which had
brushed against the walls as he'd gone up, were still numb from the chill, as if
the rock itself had sucked the warmth right out of them. With a thin but rueful
smile that tugged at only one corner of his mouth, he flexed his stiff hand.
Like master, like castle, he thought, then his smile vanished as he turned into
the room.
If not the true heart of the place, the chamber was certainly a vital organ.
Each high wall was covered with books—hundreds, thousands of them, more than Van
Richten had seen in one place in his fifty-odd years of scholarly life. The
yellow glow of his lantern picked up the sheen from well-oiled leather covers
and gilt titles, the occasional flash of a gem, and the dull face of a tome so
ancient that no amount of care or restoration could revitalize it. But the outer
shell hardly mattered; it was what lay inside that was important.
Van Richten breathed in the books' scent and felt his heart begin to race a
little. If the monster had a weakness, and they all did in one form or another,
perhaps it would be found here. As a man might be judged by the books he reads,
so might a clue be revealed in the neat ranks of titles that marched up the
walls. Van Richten suppressed another smile. Not by any stretch of fancy could
Count Strahd Von Zarovich be considered a mere man anymore, though the local
people seemed unaware of his true nature. He'd lost his allotted portion of
humanity… how many centuries ago? And at what cost in lives and misery and agony
of spirit for those hapless souls he'd touched in that time?
But I can't think about that now. Time is too short. Life is too short.
He had all the day ahead of him, midsummer day to be sure, the longest of the
year, but brief enough now that he saw how much work lay before him. And where
to start?
He moved quickly, lighting candles in their sconces as he found them. The black
shadows grudgingly retreated. Though the room was cold like the rest of the
castle, Van Richten decided to leave the great fireplace dormant. He was
comfortable enough in the coat he'd thought to bring and two layers of sweaters.
Besides, the telltale smoke would only let all and sundry know the place was
occupied, and Van Richten had excellent reasons for keeping this visit as