"Gray, Julia - Guardian 01 - The Dark Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

Terrel knew who was speaking then, even as the astonished onlookers began to whisper her name. Looking down, he saw not his own twisted hand, but pale, soft fingers clutching the stem of a deep red rose. He was now as lost in wonder as any of the spectators, and he knew that his own image was no longer on the stage. Everyone in the square was now staring, awe-struck, at Kativa.
At the same time he sensed her anguish - undiminished even after two centuries - as it pervaded every nerve and fibre of his being. Her grief was overwhelming, and he was filled with pity for her. Not even Kativa's own death, nor all the time since, had reunited her with her love, nor had it reconciled her to her family. The yawning chasm of loss and the bitterness of betrayal lived on in her ghost, a spirit that was now tied to the wrong world. As he realized this, Terrel was determined not to remain idle. Somehow he must go to her aid, even though he had no idea what to do. Elam had been responsible for the shifting lights in the air around him, but this spectral presence was quite different. She was somehow inside him, looking out through his eyes, but he didn't know if he could even talk to her.
Elam? Terrel queried tentatively, hoping for some guidance, but he received no answer - because Alyssa had arrived.
The disturbance in the crowd had rippled across the square, as if a great fish were swimming beneath the surface of the human sea. But when it reached the platform its real nature was immediately apparent. The first of the dogs to leap up onto the stage was a huge, brindled wolfhound, which snarled at the underseers and then barked in an apparent frenzy. The rest of the motley pack soon joined their leader, adding their voices to the cacophony. However, the voice Terrel heard inside his head was much more familiar.
You don't look much like a demon to me, Alyssa declared. What's going on? And who's she?
Even as she spoke, the wolfhound, whose tail bore the telltale ring, bounded across the stage and deliberately knocked the brazier over. The fire toppled onto the wooden boards, scattering the glowing irons and bright coals in all directions. This increased the panic among the acolytes and the closest spectators, and a number of soldiers were forced to leap for safety. Smoke rose as the wood began to scorch.
Terrel could see Kativa now. She had stepped away from his body, becoming a separate entity, a normal ghost. She was looking at him with a mixture of horror and bewilderment, tears coursing down her cheeks. The sight -
which he now knew could not be seen by anyone else alive - tore at his heart. But Alyssa was demanding his attention.
Are you ready? I'll be back soon.
Left to its own devices, the hound shuddered, silent now, as it looked around, wondering how it had come to be in the midst of so many people. Its comrades were still prowling over the stage, keeping well clear of Terrel, but menacing anyone else who came close.
Kativa?
Who are you? she asked.
That's not important. I-
He got no further, because he was distracted by yet another disturbance. For no apparent reason, Cadrez's mount had reared up without warning, unseating the seneschal and dumping him on the ground. Then, its hooves flailing, the horse began to force its way towards the stage.
You're a demon, remember, Alyssa told him urgently. Look like one! Or we'll never get out of here.
A war was being waged inside Terrel's mind. One part of him wanted to flee, to complete the plan he had put together with his spectral friends, but another part told him that there was something he had to do first.
Come on! Alyssa shouted, as the horse she now controlled reached the edge of the platform.
Wait a moment, Terrel replied.
Don't be stupid. We've got to go!
Cadrez was on his feet now, shouting orders to the milling soldiers.
It's Kativa, Alyssa, Elam explained. Let him do this.
His friend's unexpected intervention allowed Terrel the respite he needed. Stretching out, he took Kativa's hands in his own, feeling them like the gentlest of breezes across his fingertips. He knew that she had entered the arena through him; she could only leave that way too.
It's time to move on, he said. Forgive them. All of them. But most of all, forgive yourself. If you do that, then you 11 find him.
Ancient, red-rimmed eyes stared back at him, disbelief countering hope. Terrel let his intuition take over.
There's no need for this pain any more, he added gently. You can heal yourself. Like this.
The stallion was stamping and fretting behind him, but he was hardly aware of it, nor of the guards who were slowly pressing closer. For a moment he felt a touch of warmth from Kativa's hands, and glimpsed the beauty of her youth.
She began to fade then, disappearing slowly before his gaze, but before she vanished entirely, Kativa smiled - for the first time in two hundred years.
Terrel felt a spark of joy flare up inside, but also experienced a wave of exhaustion that nearly brought him to his knees. It took another furious exhortation from Alyssa to bring his thoughts back to his own predicament.
It's now or never, Terrel. Move!
Hobbling to the edge of the platform, he clambered into the saddle, almost overbalancing completely before hanging on for grim death as Alyssa galloped away through the crowd. The multitude parted before her thunderous charge as if the crowds were no more than dry leaves blown aside by a sudden wind. Above Terrel's head, Elam made the most of his flagging energies to add a little demonic sparkle to the scene, and the fugitive himself remembered to let his true eyes range over the terrified throng, his smile now set in a gargoyle-like grimace.

Chapter Thirty

Marshal Karuna gazed out over the devastated landscape, and did his best to suppress a shudder. He was not usually a man of much imagination, and prided himself on his hard, practical mind, but the view in front of him was testing his composure to the limit. It was as though some vengeful god had decided to smash a mountain range into rubble, and then set fire to what was left by inundating the entire area with flaming thunderbolts. No one believed in gods any more, of course - the seers and their astrological certainties had seen to that - but as a child, Karuna had listened to his grandmother as she brought the old pagan myths and legends to life, and now he could hear her rasping whisper again.
'Chaosu, the god of war, walked the land in fire and blood, destroying all before him.'
'I beg your pardon.'
Karuna came back to the present with a rush. He had not realized that he'd spoken out loud.
'It's nothing,' he said, embarrassed. 'I hadn't realized the mine workings were so extensive.'
The marshal's companion allowed himself a quiet smile. He had seen this reaction in newcomers many times. The sheer scale of the operation, and the desolate nature of the terrain it had produced, often shocked them. But to Commissioner Hoban it was a scene not of devastation, but of grandeur.
'Betancuria has been a centre of mining operations for more than two hundred years,' he explained. 'What you see here is only the visible legacy of the exploration that's been going on below ground.'
The two men were standing atop a hill that was itself man-made, one part of the legacy Hoban had mentioned. From there they could see for miles over the jagged, pockmarked expanse of barren rock. Karuna still found it hard to believe that such havoc could have been wrought by man alone. Parts of the land had been torn away, robbing it of any connection to the living world, and exposing Nydus's bones in those great gaping wounds. Other areas were riddled with black holes, as if some giant worm had been eating them from within. Vast piles of waste rock and slag littered this inhuman battlefield, and the whole area was wreathed in swirls of bitter smoke from the smelting furnaces. Even from their remote vantage point, the air smelt poisonous.
'There's another world beneath our feet,' Hoban added.
The marshal nodded, recognizing the pride with which his companion had spoken, even though he did not understand it, and sought to bring their conversation back to more immediate concerns. Chief Seer Kamin had dispatched his senior army officer to Betancuria - somewhat reluctantly, Karuna suspected - because a cool head was required to assess the situation there, and to provide an accurate report. The rumours that had been spreading from the mining community had become increasingly far-fetched, and Karuna had been prepared to discount most of them. But now he was not so sure. Who knew what mysteries might lurk beneath this ravaged earth?
'The phenomenon,' he began. 'Have you seen it for yourself?'
'I have,' Hoban replied, his expression serious now.
Karuna believed him. The marshal had gained the impression that Hoban was not one of the usual self-serving functionaries who preferred to oversee operations from afar. The commissioner had been an engineer himself once, and had evidently earned the respect of the men who worked for him. Such a man would certainly have investigated the so-called monster for himself.
'Can you describe it?'
'Not really. The thing is . . .' Hoban's hesitation betrayed his unease. 'There just isn't anything to describe. All I can say is that it's a swirling sort of darkness, that you feel it as much as see it - like a shadow that should not be there.'
Karuna had heard similar reports before, but coming from Hoban it sounded somewhat more believable.
'So it's not real? It's not . . .' The marshal hesitated.