"Eric van Lustbader - Sunset Warrior 1 - The Sunset Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lustbader Eric van)

neglect, there were
patches made oily and dark by dirt, areas crusty with grime, sections bleached
almost white.
Here and there spiderweb cracks extended their fingers like tenacious plants
seeking sunlight.
Doorways marched by them on either side at regular intervals. Those with doors
were invaria-
bly shut. Occasionally an open doorway revealed cubicles dark and musty,
debris piled in
corners, refuse strewn about the floor. But, beyond the evidence of human
detritus, they were
empty save for the brief flash of small scurrying bodies: click-click of claw,
whip of tail.
Gradually the grey of the walls gave way to a tired lustreless blue. The
daggam turned left into
a dark passageway in the interior wall of the Corridor and the pair behind
them followed. None
of them gave a second look at the stalled Lift across the Corridor.
They were on a landing of the Stairwell that ran vertically along the rim of
the core of the
Freehold. One of the daggam, the one who talked, reached up into a niche in
the wall and
removed a torch of tarred reeds bound tightly with cord. He held it in front
of him while the other
daggam produced flint and a tinder box, got a flame going, and touched it to
the torch. It flared
and crackled as it caught. Sparks jumped in the air and fell blackly at their
feet.
Without a backward glance, the daggam proceeded down the concrete steps. Ronin
was sur-
prised to find that they were descending rather than ascending. The little he
knew of the mysteri-
ous Magic Men indicated that they held a lofty position in the hierarchy of
the Freehold. Their
talents and wisdom were constantly courted by the
Saardin despite their traditional vow for ever to work towards the good of the
entire Freehold. But it
was possible that they were not immune to politicization. By all rights the
Magic Man should be
quartered on one of the Freehold's Upper Levels, yet they were descending.
Ronin shrugged
mentally. No one knew much about them except that they were rumoured to be
strange individuals.
If one chose to reside on the fringes of the Middle Levels with the Neers it
was no concern of his.
Between each Level the Stairwell doubled back on itself at a landing. They
traversed the Levels
silently, the shivering torchlight distorting their shadows into grotesque
parodies of human shapes,
shambling things that danced along the walls and low ceilings, expressionless,