"Thomas E. Sniegoski - Leviathan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

continued as he ran a finger along the soft, downy fur of the trembling rodent's head."You're scaring the
mouse."

"Take him!"Verchiel cried in a voice that hinted of madness, scars hot and red against his pale flesh.
And they flew at him.

The repenter did as he imagined he must. No weapons of fire sprang from his palms, no powerful wings
unfurled to carry him away. He slipped the fragile creature that had become his friend inside the folds of
his simple robes, and let himself be taken.

Shackles of a golden metal not found on this world, their surface etched in an angelic spell of
suppression, were slapped roughly upon his wrists, and he felt himself immediately sapped of strength by
their inherent magic. Some of the Powers, but not all, clawed at him, striking him, beating him with their
wings—even though he offered no resistance. The penitent could understand their resentment and did
nothing to halt their abuse.

"Enough!"Verchiel bellowed, and the angelic soldiers stepped away from the repenter's prone form on
what remained of the room's floor.

The leader of the Powers approached, and the prisoner looked up into his cold, merciless gaze."So
angry," he whispered as he studied the expression of cruelty burned upon the angelic commander's face.
"So filled with blind hatred. I've seen thatlook before. It's very familiar to me."

Verchiel motioned for his men to lift the repenter from the ground, and they did just that—but he
continued to examine the leader's troubling features.

"I used to see it every time I saw my reflection,"he said as he was borne aloft by the angels of the
Powers.

His words struck a sensitive chord. Verchiel's expression changed to one of unbridled fury, and he
hinged toward the repenter, a new weapon of flame taking shape.Will it be a sword to cleave myskull in
two—or maybe a battle-ax to separate my headfrom my shoulders? he wondered. The weapon
became a mace, and the angel swung with a force that would shatter mountains. It connected with the
side of the prisoner's head, and an explosion, very much like the birth of a galaxy, blossomed behind his
eyes.

As he slipped into the void, he was accompanied by the fading sounds of the world he was leaving
behind, the murmurs of prayer, the moan of the mountain winds, the pounding wings of vengeful angels,
and the rapid-fire beating of a frightened mouse's heart.

Then, for a time, all was blissfully silent.

chapter one

Aaron Corbet accelerated to seventy on I-95 heading north. He turned up the volume on the cassette
player and casually glanced to the right to see the angel Camael wincing as if in pain.

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked. "Do you sense something? What is it?"

The angel shook his head, his expression wrinkling with distaste. "The noise," he said, pointing a slender