"Zelazny, Roger - Amber 08 - Sign Of Chaos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

I bent over, leaning far forward, so that my knuckles just grazed the toe
of my right boot.
"Luke," I said, "we've got a problem."
He turned away from the bar and glanced down at me.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
Those of the blood of Amber are capable of terrific exertions. We are also
able to sustain some pretty awful beatings. So, among ourselves, these things
tend to cancel out to some degree. Therefore, one must go about such matters
just right if one is to attend to them at all....
I brought my fist up off the floor with everything I had behind it, and I
caught Lake on the side of the jaw with a blow that lifted him above the ground
as it turned him and sent him sprawling across a table which collapsed, to
continue sliding backward the length of the entire serving area where he finally
came to a crumpled halt at the feet of the quiet Victorian-looking
gentleman--who had dropped his paintbrush and stepped away quickly when Luke
came skidding toward him. I raised my tankard with my left hand and poured its
contents over my right fist, which felt as if I had just driven it against a
mountainside. As I did this the lights grew dim and there was a moment of utter
silence.
Then I slammed the mug back onto the bartop. The entire place chose that
moment in which to shudder, as if from an earth tremor. Two bottles fell from a
shelf, a lamp swayed, the burbling grew fainter. I glanced to my left and saw
that the eerie shadow of the Jabberwock had retreated somewhat within the tulgey
wood. Not only that, the painted section of the prospect now extended a good
deal farther into what had seemed normal space, and it looked to be continuing
its advance in that direction, freezing that corner of the world into flat
immobility. It became apparent from whiffle to whiffle that the Jabberwock was
now moving away, to the left, hurrying ahead of the flatness. Tweedledum,
Tweedledee, the Dodo, and the Frog began packing their instruments.
I started across the bar toward Luke's sprawled form. The CaterpilIar was
disassembling his hookah, and I saw that his mushroom was tilted at an odd
angle. The White Rabbit beat it down a hole to the rear, and I heard Humpty
muttering curses as he swayed atop the bar stool he had just succeeded in
mounting.
I saluted the gentleman with the palette as I approached.
"Sorry to disturb you,'' I said. "But believe me, this is for the better."
I raised Luke's limp form and slung him over my shoulder. A flock of
playing cards flew by me. I drew away from them in their rapid passage.
"Goodness! It's frightened the Jabberwock!" the man remarked, looking past
me.
"What has?" I asked, not really certain that I wished to know.
"That," he answered, gesturing toward the front of the bar.
I looked and I staggered back and I didn't blame the Jabberwock a bit.
It was a twelve-foot Fire Angel that had just entered--russet-colored, with
wings like stained-glass windows--and, along with intimations of mortality, it
brought me recollections of a praying mantis, with a spiked collar and thornlike
claws protruding through its short fur at every suggestion of an angle. One of
these, in fact, caught on and unhinged a swinging door as it came inside. It was
a Chaos beast--rare, deadly, and, highly intelligent. I hadn't seen one in
years, and I'd no desire to see one now; also, I'd no doubt that I was the