"Ann Maxwell - Fire Dancer 1 - Fire Dancer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxwell Ann)

Reflexively they shot again, spraying lavender lightning. Rheba grabbed what was possible,
twisted it and gave it back to them with brilliant vengeance.

The result was blinding. Rangers stumbled and fell helplessly, but she did not see them go down.
She had closed her own blinded eyes and buried her face against Kirtn’s neck, expecting each
instant to be cooked by Ranger fire that she could not even see coming. Kirtn ran on, knowing
only that she had done something to stop the Rangers’ fire. He did not know that she and their
pursuers were temporarily bund.

As he raced under the spaceport’s silver arch, a figure separated from the shadow of a nearby
warehouse. The man’s black robe lifted and fell as he sprinted after Kirtn. The Bre’n’s back
quivered in anticipation of another fusillade, but unless he let go of Rheba there was nothing he
could do to defend himself.

“Rheba—”‘ panted Kirtn. “Do whatever—you did to—the Rangers!”

She let go of his weapon harness long enough to rub her streaming eyes. Blinking frantically, she
stared over his shoulder. The lone pursuer was less than a man’s length behind.

Shaking with fear and fatigue, she began to gather harsh filaments of energy Into herself. Her hair
crackled with hidden life, but still it was not enough. She must wait for Kirtn to pass near one of
the spaceport’s powerful illuminators.
The man’s hood fell back, revealing his features, blue on blue, grim.

“Jal!”

He did not answer. He simply held out his hands, proving his lack of weapons. Rheba sighed and
let the energy she had collected bleed back into the night.

Kirtn pounded up the berth ramp to their ship’s personnel lock. He slammed his hand down on
the lock plate. The door whipped open. He leaped through, Jal right on his heels. Rheba’s high,
staccato whistle brought the ship’s emergency systems to life.

Kirtn threw her into the pilot web and leaped for the standby couch. The ship’s alarm lights
blazed from silver to blue, signifying hits by small energy weapons. Either the Rangers had
recovered their sight or reinforcements had caught up.

“Get flat,” snapped Rheba, grabbing for the override controls. “This will be rough.”

Jal dove for a second couch as the ship’s downside engines blasted to fullmax/override. The
Devalon leaped into Onan’s cold sky, slamming Jal into the couch and crushing him until he
moaned that nothing would be left of him but a thick stain. Then he lost even the air in his lungs,
and consciousness.

Kirtn lay on his back, fighting to breathe. He did not complain. Rheba was doing what had to be
done. The fact that Senyasi could pull more gravities than most spacefaring humanoids was a
double-edged weapon that she rarely used. Grimly, he counted the red minutes until the ship
would be far enough out of Onan’s gravity well to safely initiate replacement.

The effort he had given to outrunning Rangers caught up with him. The ship’s walls bleached to