"Mickey Zucker Reichert - Bifrost 03 - Dragonrank Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichert Mickey Zucker)

warning, he turned full concentration to the arching band of light above him. Quietly, deliberately, he
worked his upside-down way along the bottom edge of theBifrostBridge .
 An hour passed without sight or sound of Heimdallr. The superficiality of the Bifrost's crevices forced
Taziar to concentrate upon them to the exclusion of everything else. His ardor remained, undulled and
untainted. By the subtle upward arc of his course, he could tell his journey was still in its infancy, though
the groundlay more than a league beneath him. He shook a cramp from his right hand and realized
Heimdallr's presence might prove the least of his problems.

Another two hours'climb, and Heimdallr's voice boomed across the rainbow strands. "Is someone here?
Identify yourself now, or I shall be forced to kill you."

Taziar slowed his ascent to a crawl. He felt the bridge shudder as the white god shifted position,
presumably to block the passage of an invisible foe. Obviously, Heimdallr never even considered the idea
that a man might be capable of climbing the underside of the Bifrost. Taziar dragged his aching limbs
onward, beginning to understand why.

It took Heimdallr six more hours of angered challenges to dismiss Taziar's breathing and movement as
wind. Now, at the peak of the arch, Taziar felt sweat dripping from him like rain despite the frigid gusts.
Carefully balancing his grip, he raised his left arm and wiped his forehead. He noticed that blood smeared
his fingertips. Aware an assessment of the damage to his hands and feet could only weaken his
self-confidence, he forced himself to continue without looking. Searing pain made him curse the
inexplicable force which drove him to feats of utter stupidity.

Taziar fell into a climbing rhythm. His limbs continued to draw him upward long after his mind had
fogged with exhaustion. The scarlet prints he left with every movement blended into the red expanse of
the rainbow band. But the pain never dulled. It remained, sharp and cruel as a knife cut, haunting each
movement with accusation.

Nearly there.Nearly there, Taziar promised himself for hours.Finding the irregularities which no less
skilled man could locate, let alone scale, became a constant, ceaseless obsession. His head throbbed
from his unnatural position. His mind channeled fleeting thoughts only with heroic effort. He struggled
against the threat of dark unconsciousness.

Oblivion overtook him on the downward slope. His soles lost the friction of the rainbow, and his body
unfolded. He clung, fingers white with strain, suddenly fully awake. For an instant, he imagined himself
tumbling, wind-whipped and dizzied, through leagues of open air. Then a deeper portion of his mind
kicked in.You stupid, weak-willed bastard, don't let it beat you ! Self-directed rage filled him. Exhaustion
made him uncharacteristically awkward, but he swung his feet back into position. For an instant he hung,
contemplating his near demise. And it gave him the strength to draw his aching body a few lengths farther.

A world beyond fatigue closed around him then. His mind bent away from reality, summoning rapidly
changing fragments of memory. Taziar thought he caught a glimpse of grass and water beneath him before
he collapsed into utter darkness.

Taziar awakened to a blur of black, white, and red, an evil smell in his nostrils, and the dull ache of every
muscle and tendon. He felt chilled all over, except for his face which seemed oddly feverish. From habit,
he assessed the damage caused by his fall. Blood slicked his hands and feet. Nothing seemed broken,
just badly strained. And an unexplained pressure on his rib cage made every breath painful.

Gradually, Taziar's vision unswirled. The colors came together to form the countenance of a