"David J. Wright - Payment Due" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wright David J)

Chained to his own marble pedestal, Astogoroth ul-Time Demonbinder, the Crystal
Wielder, laid naked and stinking in his own froth and squalor. Once the most
powerful mortal alive, Astogoroth had been transformed into a babbling fool.
Astogoroth's screaming fit had lasted nineteen days, and then he fell into a
drooling catatonia for another twenty-four. Now he lapsed into one or the other,
interspersed with the barest moments of clarity. It was only through his magic
that Jig managed to keep the wizard fed, who would have spat or vomited the food
out, given the opportunity. For the first few days Jig also worked at keeping
him clean, but finally gave up when it was clear Astogoroth was more intent on
remaining filthy. With the passing time Jig grew more worried, until finally he
telepathically peeked inside Astogoroth's mind and viewed the fractured
maelstrom within, the red and black claws of madness like spider's legs which
gripped the wizard's brain. Sections of that brain still functioned, yes, but
other sections had been obliterated permanently.
"Jig."
It was a lifeless little croak from the wakened Astogoroth, whose eyes were open
and bloodshot and watery. His head was lifted up off of the floor, but otherwise
he hadn't moved.
"How are you, Astogoroth?" Jig spoke soothingly.
"Gantegor," the wizard said. "Gantegor approaches." This was a pronouncement
Astogoroth had made quite a few times during the past three months.
"No, Astogoroth, Gantegor isn't coming here. You're safe from it."
"I feel it approaching. I feel its hunger." Tears tumbled down Astogoroth's
face, but his voice didn't shake. "I have failed. I am doomed."
"You are not doomed," Jig said. "I have told you, Gantegor is not coming here.
What you probably sense is me, because my power comes from Gantegor. Gantegor
gave me all this power in exchange for my soul."
"You are wrong. I feel it. Gantegor was weak when it escaped the Crystal Cage,
but now it grows stronger, and grows hungrier. Gantegor approaches. It will be
here in 241 days."
Jig gaped. Two hundred forty-one days? How could Astogoroth possibly know how
much time Jig had left?
"Gantegor comes for me, Jig," Astogoroth hissed. "And it comes for you. It comes
for us all."



Amil watched the boy pick at his stew, shivering inside the blanket she had
given him. By the drawn lines in his face and his sunken cheeks and eyes, it was
clear he had been eating poorly, if at all, for some time now.
"How did you come here?" she asked. "And where did you come from? How did you
find me?"
"I was sent here, to the swamp, a mile or two to the south," the boy answered.
"I was told to find Amil ul-Natalia. I was told what you looked like."
Amil wrestled with a strong desire to pull her robe hood across her scarred and
oozing face. What she looked like, indeed! Seek the woman with skin like a
boiled tomato.
The boy said, "I came because of Gantegor, because I need your help to stop him.
I came from the Wizard's Coven. Astogoroth sent me."
"Astogoroth?" Amil almost barked the name. "Astogoroth ul-Time Demonbinder? Is