"James M. Ward - The Pool 2 - Pools of Darkness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward James M)

 1
City in Turmoil
What started as a day of humid sunshine smelling of damp earth and the scent of things green and
growing turned quickly into a day of severe, threatening weath-er. By noon, the brilliant blue sky was
obscured by omi-nous, dense clouds. Black, boiling thunderheads followed, moving in with unnatural speed.
The citizens of Phlan had endured worse, and they took the storm in stride. Livestock was corralled,
shut-ters bolted, and children were ordered to play indoors.
By suppertime, the countryside was drowning in tor-rential rains and hail. Intense winds blew clapboards
off houses, tore branches off trees, and knocked over any-thing that wasn't securely fastened to the ground.
Worst of all was the lightning that ripped through the sky and the thunder that shook buildings to their very
founda-tions. Not even the oldest citizens could remember such a day. The druids who had predicted the
sunny weather that morning were completely confused by the change in conditions. Nothing in their
divinations had even hint-ed at bad weather.
As evening wore on, the storm's intensity grew. Light-ning strikes set fire to a half-dozen homes,
although the flames were drowned by the driving rains. Small trees were uprooted and tossed about like
kindling.
Despite the late hour, few residents slept. Those who were safely home and not assigned to guard duty
on the city's walls found it impossible to sleep amid the clamor of rain and thunder and the buffeting winds.
Most whiled away the hours in front of fires. The only thing to do was to wait for the storm to blow itself
out.
Even with a full contingent of guards on the walls and most of Phlan's citizens wide awake, few were
aware of a strange, magical force creeping over the city. From far across the continent, an invisible, silvery
energy was forming a misty ring outside Phlan's impenetrable stone walls. The energy gradually grew and
melded into shim-mering tentacles, burrowing under the walls and around fieldstone foundations. As the
force swelled, it formed a magical network beneath every structure in Phlan, wrapping around cellars and
encircling storage pits. The invisible stranglehold tightened under the city as the storm pounded from above.
In one of Phlan's most famous residences, a sorceress paced the floor. A purple nightdress swished
about her legs as she moved from window to window in the dimly lit room. From the top floor in her tower,
she could nor-mally see the entire city, but tonight the driving rain obscured lights in homes only fifty yards
away. Blasts of lightning were the only reassurance that the rest of Phlan hadn't blown into the Moonsea.
"Come to bed, Shal. The storm will blow over whether you're awake or not." The voice of the wizard's
sleepy husband drifted from beneath warm blankets, tempting her weary body.
The sorceress gripped the window sill. Her fingertips whitened as her grasp grew tighter. Frustrated,
she stalked across the room to flop down on the bed.
"I can't sleep! This storm has my brain all stirred up. I feel as if I have thunder and lightning rattling
through my veins." Shal rolled onto her side to face her husband.
Tarl propped himself up on one elbow. "I think you and the rest of the wizards in town should arrange a
place to meet during storms like this. Then you can climb the walls together. Or levitate. Or fly around the
room. Or—"
Tarl's words were snuffed out by thunder. Shal jolted, then sighed. "Magical powers are a wonderful
thing, but when one's body is a channel for energy, storms like this can be brutal. You're lucky that clerics
don't have this problem." The sorceress rolled over and buried her head under the pillow.
Tarl clamped his eyes shut as a lightning bolt tore across the sky. Blinking from the glare, he lifted a
corner of the pillow and spoke softly to his wife. "Can I make you some tea or warm some milk . . . hey!
What's the matter?" He pushed away the pillow and gently pulled Shal close. Enormous tears rolled down
her face, and her body shuddered. Tarl shifted to sit up, holding his wife and rocking gently.
The cleric pushed away Shal's red tresses and whis-pered in her ear. "You've been through worse
storms be-fore, my sweet. What's wrong this time?" He continued rocking as the wizard sobbed, then
gasped for air.
"I don't know. I feel... strange." Tears still rolled down her flushed cheeks.