"Holly Lisle - World Gates 03 - Gods Old and Dark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lisle Holly)

for one brief, wondrous span that was no time and all time as he slid into one of
Yggdrasil’s branches, he could feel his old friends Tanngrísnir and Tanngnjóstr leaping
forward, while at his hip Mjollnir sang, wearing its true seeming. He roared his pleasure,
and the green fire enveloped him, and in his ears the Valkyries sang songs of heroes and
feasting and mighty battles, and the world tree spun him forward, embracing him,
welcoming him, and as quickly and as slowly as that, it spat him out, taking thunder and
lightning, sheeting rain and towering black clouds with him.

Heyr sat in the truck, window still down, while the rain pounded the windshield and
sluiced away the dust and grime, while lightning crashed all around him and thunder
roared like a choir of giants in his ears, and he threw back his head and laughed. He
bellowed into the storm, “I’m here now, you slinking cowards, serpents, you hiders in
darkness and weak-kneed back-biters. I’m here, and I brought my hammer. Come play
with me…if you DARE!”

Night Watch Control Hub, Barâd Island, Oria

Rekkathav, personal servant of Aril, keth dark god and Master of the Night Watch, trotted
along beside the Master of the Night Watch as the Master glided through the corridors of
the ancient Barâd palace, heading for the control hub hidden at its core. Aril was typical of
the keth; he was twice as tall as Rekkathav—tall enough to look a rrôn in the eye—and
slender as cattail reeds, with huge, black almond eyes, a tiny rosebud mouth, and almost
no nose, and an androgynous beauty that added a taste of awe and lust to the terror that he
inspired. His silk robes, light as air, floated around him, and the thousands of braids of his
pale gold hair swirled as if alive. The aura of power that poured from him terrified
Rekkathav, even though he had survived more than two years already as Aril’s closest
assistant, something of a record.

In the Hub, the true center of all the universes, where the dark gods watched and


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controlled and commanded the fates of worlds, mere assistants were as disposable as
mayflies, and warranted as much interest. Rekkathav had spent the last two years balanced
on the sharp edge of a knife, with fear his constant companion. The Night Watch was
almost ready to harvest Earth and drink its death, and Rekkathav, if he survived to that
point, would partake of the feast and get his first taste of the dark power created from the
slaughter of a world and all its inhabitants. And he would move up in rank; Rekkathav
would become a dark god, and no longer just a pretender. Surviving long enough to feast,
though, was his great challenge.

The hyatvit, dozen legs scrambling and twin hearts racing, kept up with the Master.
“You’ve returned in such a state, Master. Your inspection did not go well?” He instantly
regretted that question—clearly things had not gone well. The question was whether they
had gone badly in a way that could be blamed on Rekkathav. “What may I do to assist
you?” he asked.