"Scott McGough - Magic the Gathering - Odyssey Cycle 02 - Chainer's Torment" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)

The interior of the mansion was in worse shape
than the exterior. The main floor was more hole than
floor, with the basement level clearly visible from the
front doorway. An ornate metal banister led up to the
second floor, but the staircase itself was gone, a pile of
broken wood and carpet scraps in the basement below.
Chainer looked closer and saw what appeared to be
bones among the wreckage of the staircase. At least
three complete humans, one of whom was very small.
Chainer took one tentative step onto the
threadbare floor, but before he could put his full
weight down the ancient boards split and fell away. He
stepped back onto the porch, which shuddered and
swayed beneath him. Chainer grunted and scouted the
entire first floor for a safe route down into the
basement.
Finding none, he sheathed his knuckle dagger
and took his weapon and tool of choice—a ten-foot
length of black metal chain—from his belt. He looped
the hard, polished chain around the broken base of a
statue that guarded the front doorway, and with the
simplest spell he knew, connected the chain to itself.
"Link," he whispered, and the spot he was staring
at shimmered, then coalesced into a new link that was
indistinguishable from the rest of the chain. Chainer
leaned backward to cinch up the metal noose and test

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its strength. Then he lowered himself down into the
still, musty debris.
It was incredibly dark, the kind of darkness that
caused him to wonder if his eyes were still open. He
listened for any other movement and waited in vain for
his eyes to adjust. The sound continued to call him,
growing higher and more excited as he got closer.
Methodically, he made his way across the basement
toward the sound, testing the stone floor before
putting any weight on it.
By a pile of moth-eaten fabric and random junk,
he lit one of his flare candles and immediately noticed
the sphere. In a small bubble of bright light, Chainer
stared in naked wonder at the treasure, hovering a
clear foot off the ground, that had called to him across
the salt flats.
The smooth, flawless black ball somehow seemed
to radiate darkness like fire radiates light. Chainer's
flare only showed it in relief, for the sphere defined
itself with its own anti-light. The edges of the sphere's