"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Dus 1 - Lure Of The Basilisk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

fingers around it and tugged. It did not move. Startled, he pulled again;
again, the torch remained as motionless as the cellar wall. Garth removed his
hand, then replaced it and tried again; still the wood refused to budge.
Perhaps it was enchanted? It seemed rather unlikely that the wizard would
bother with ensorcelling a torch in a wine cellar. Perhaps his invisible
fingers were in the wrong place, and he was trying to move the bracket? But
no, he distinctly felt the rough grain of the wood.
Studying his invisible hand, a horrible thought suddenly struck him:
where was his sword? He felt where its hilt should be, and found nothing; his
left hand still clutched the Jewel of Blindness, but his right hand had been
empty since he staggered on the stairway and grabbed at the railing. He must
have dropped the weapon, either in the kitchen or on the stairs; he could see
no trace of it. Either it was still invisible, or it lay now on the kitchen
floor as clear proof of his presence. It occurred to him that it was very well
indeed that it had been the sword he had dropped, rather than the gem, which
was his only means of restoring himself to visibility. To avoid any risk of
losing it as well, he carefully tucked it into a pouch at his belt, a rather
tricky proceeding while invisible. With both hands free, he then reached up
and grasped the torch again, carefully feeling its shaft where it met the iron
bracket. He could detect no latch or other impediment. He applied his full
strength, which should have torn the entire bracket from its mountings; the
torch did not so much as flicker. Either it was indeed enchanted, or this was
some side effect of his intangible state...probably the latter. After all,
could intangibles such as fear or courage lift a torch from its resting place?
He descended the stairs once more and chose a bottle at random; he could not
budge it, any more than he could lift the torch. Likewise, he realized, even
if he found the door to the crypts, he would be unable to open it. Well, he
decided, such details were best left until actually encountered. He was unsure
he would be able to resume his invisibility once he broke it-assuming he could
break it-and did not care to abandon his best protection against discovery
until the last possible moment.
He wondered again what had become of his sword; wherever it was, it was
apparently still invisible, or else Shang would have come back seeking him
upon finding it on the kitchen floor. It struck him that he would have heard
it fall, ordinarily; the inaudibility the spell conferred apparently affected
the user as well as everyone else. In trial, he attempted to shout, and
discovered he could not hear himself do so. No wonder the bandits had been so
disorganized in their attack; it was a wonder they had been as well grouped as
they were. The result of long practice, no doubt. Well, at least he could
still feel; the intangibility apparently wasn't that complete.
It was complete enough, though. He couldn't move the torch, so he
couldn't very well search the walls with it. He remembered the torch stuck in
his belt and, groping, found it; that he could still handle. He drew it forth,
climbed the stairs once again, and held it to the flame of the lit one.
Nothing happened; no flame appeared. He started to feel for the oiled tip, and
burnt his fingers in doing so. It was afire. Naturally, though, the flames
were as invisible as the torch, casting invisible light.
Garth found himself wishing he knew the names of some appropriate gods
to swear by; profanity seemed the only response in such a situation.
Unfortunately, he did not. Like most overmen, he was an atheist, or at least