"Moon, Elizabeth - Deed Of Paksenarrion - 02 - Divided Allegiance V1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

"A fighter?" He arched his brows.
"Yes, a fighter! By the gods, Macenion, carrying a sword in my hand doesn't mean I don't carry sense between my ears. If a warning comes, I heed it."
"I wish you'd told me before about your extra abilities. It comes hard to believe in them now, when I've never seen them." He gave her a superior smile. "Very well, then… since you're so sure. We'll wander about down here with no other guidance than your intuition. Perhaps you're turning into a paladin or something."
Paks glared at him, angry enough to strike, but relieved that he had turned away from the dais. Macenion looked around the hall.
"Which door would you suggest, since you don't like my choice?"
"What about that alcove?" asked Paks. "Or the center doors on the long side there?"
Macenion shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me. Why not the alcove? It's as far as possible from those you rear." Paks flushed but held her peace as they walked the length of the hall.
The alcove was deeper than it looked; the light was deceptive. Within it were two doors, both bronze. One had a design on it that reminded Paks of a tree; the other was covered with interlacement bands that enclosed many-pointed stars. Macenion looked at her. "Do you have any feelings about either of these? My own preference would be for the stars; stars are sacred to elves."
Paks felt, in feet, a stubborn desire to use the door with the tree, but she felt no special menace from the other one. With Macenion grinning at her in such a smug way, she didn't want to press a mere preference. "That will do. I don't have anything against it, anyway." When Macenion simply stood there, she asked sharply, "Aren't you going to open it?"
"As soon as I figure out how. It's locked, spell-locked—if you laid a hand on it, you'd be flat on your back. I'm surprised your intuition didn't tell you that."
Paks wondered herself, and thought that if her intuition worked on bigger things, they'd better pay attention to it. She said nothing, however, and as Macenion stood in apparent thought, she turned to keep watch on the rest of the room.
When she looked the length of the room toward the dais, she thought she saw a feint glow around the doors there. She looked at the other doors in the room. They looked the same. When she looked back at the dais, the glow was more definite. It had an irregular shape, and seemed to be coming from the joint between the doors—as if it were seeping through.
"Macenion!"
"What now?!" He turned to her angrily. Paks pointed toward the dais. "I don't see—by the gods! What's that?"
"I don't know. I don't like it. Did you step up on the dais?"
"No. You yelled, and I—I may just have touched the lower step with my foot—"
"I hope not. It's brighter, now."
"So I see. I wonder if it's—by Orphin, I'd better get this spell correct."
"What is it?"
"Not now! Just watch. Tell me if it gets more than halfway down the hall."
"But what can I do to hold it back?"
"If it's what I think, nothing. Now let me work."
Paks turned to stare at the mysterious glowing shape, which grew slowly as she watched. It seemed to spread, widening itself to the width of the dais, and slowing its forward movement as it did so. At first she had been able to see through it clearly, but as it grew and thickened, she could no longer see the doors behind it. She felt sweat crawling through her hair. Her intuition had been right, but what was this thing? Surely there was a way to fight it. Now it reached the forward edge of the dais. Paks could hear Macenion muttering behind her. She heard a feint sizzle, then a little pop. Macenion cursed softly and went back to muttering. The glowing shape extended along the front edge of the dais, and began to grow taller. Slowly it filled the space above the dais, from the doors behind to the lowest step in front, rising higher and higher to the canopy that hung between the dais and the ceiling. When this space was full, the glow intensified again. It seemed more and more solid, as if it were a definite shape settling there. As it solidified, it contracted a little, no longer so regular. Just as Macenion's triumphant "Got itl" broke her concentration, Paks thought she could see the shape it was condensing toward.
"Come on, Paks. Quickly!" Macenion grabbed her arm to hurry her through the now-open door, and looked back. "Great Orphin, protect us, it is a—Come on!"
Paks tore her eyes from the glowing shape, and darted through the door after Macenion. He waited on the other side and threw his weight against the heavy panel. As it swung closed, a curious hissing noise came from the hall they had left.
"Help me—close it!" Macenion looked as frightened as Paks had ever seen him. She, too, leaned on the door, as Macenion fumbled for something in his pouch with one hand. It seemed reluctant to stay closed, as if pressure were on it from the other side. "Don't let it come open," warned Macenion. "If that gets out, we're dead."
"What is it?"
"Not now! I'm trying to—" Macenion grunted suddenly, and began to mutter in a language Paks didn't know. Suddenly Paks felt a great shove from the other side of the door. "Blast! Wrong one. " Macenion began muttering again, as Paks held the door with all her strength. She heard an abrupt click, and found that she needed no strength to hold the door. Macenion sighed. "That should do it," he said. "I expect it will. You can let go now, Pales."
"What was that?" Paks noticed that Macenion still looked worried.
"I don't know how to explain it to you."
'A sort of evil spirit, then, that can take solid form, and attack any intruder, elves preferred. It has many ways of attacking, aH of them unpleasant."
"And a sword would be no use against it?"
Macenion laughed. "No."
"Is it the thing we came to find? What's holding the other thing prisoner?"
"No. Unlikely. I fear, though, that it may be in league with it. This may prove harder than I thought. And we certainly can't risk returning this way to the surface."
"Unless we've destroyed that thing." Paks felt better. Her intuition had been right after all, and, as always, the joining of the fight roused her spirits. Macenion looked at her curiously.
"Don't you understand? We can't destroy that—and we don't know any other way out. If what we're looking for is as bad or worse, we may never get out."
Paks grinned. "I understand. We took the bait, and we're in the trap: and we don't even know the size of the trap. But they, Macenion, don't know the size of their catch." She drew her sword and looked along the blade for a moment. "You managed to shut the door against that thing. I can deal with more fleshly clangers. And—I've been in traps before."
"Yes, but—Well, there's no help for it. We'd better keep moving. We want to be well away from that door if it breaks through."
They were in a short corridor, lit as the stairwell and hall had been, and ahead of them was an archway into a larger room. Here, too, the floor was thick with dust. Paks led the way forward, sword out and ready. Macenion followed.
The room had obviously been a kitchen. Not a stick of furniture remained, but two great hearths, blocked up with hasty stonework, told the tale of many feastings. On the left, a narrower archway led to another corridor. On their right, a short passage led to another room, just visible beyond it.
"That should have been the cellar," said Macenion. "I wonder if any of the wine is left."
Paks chuckled. "After so long? It wouldn't be worth trying."
"I suppose not. We'll go this way, then. He gestured to the left. As they crossed the kitchen, Paks looked around for any sign of recent disturbance but saw nothing.
"Was that thing back there what drove the elves out?" asked Paks.
"No. I don't think so. Enough high elves together would be able to drive it away. It's—weD, you humans know of gods, don't you? Good and evil gods?"
"Of course." Paks glared at him for an instant.
"Do you know of the Court of Gods? Their rankings, and all that?"
Paks shook her head. "Gods are gods."
"No, Paksenarrion, they are not. Some are far more powerful than others. You should have learned that in Aarenis, even as a soldier. You fought in Sibili, didn't you? Yes—and didn't you see the temple of the Master of Torments there? I heard it was sacked."