"Dan Parkinson. The Gates of Thorbardin ("DragonLance Saga Heroes II" #2) (angl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

when one stood directly above it and looked down.
Chane Feldstone hoisted himself to the ledge-top, a
black-clad dwarf burdened by black packs slung from
each shoulder. The dead cat had provided more than a
meal. It had provided a good, black fur coat, two packs,
and a supply of smoked meat. "It was just a dream," he

said. "At least that's what almost everybody tells me.
Maybe they're right, too. But it's my dream, and I don't
think that's all it is."
"Well, what do you think it was?" The kender shaded
his bright eyes, gazing at the distant, craggy mountains
that rose above the mists several miles eastward, across
the valley.
"I think it was a message," Chane sighed. "It's like a
dream that I've had a hundred times over the years, only
this time it seemed to almost make sense, and there was
this face - I felt like I should know who he was, but I
can't quite grasp it. He told me that I had a destiny and
the fate of Thorbardin depends on me, and he showed
me a place where I must go."
'Why?"
"I don't know. He didn't say, but it must have some-
thing to do with the helmet, because that's what I always
dream about."
The kender glanced around at the dwarf, raising an
eyebrow quizzically. "What helmet?"
"The same one I always dream about. Ever since I was
half-grown."
"A helmet," Chess breathed. "Gee, I usually just dream
about butterflies and leeches and things. I don't think I
ever dreamed about a helmet," He raised his forked staff,
twirled it in his hngers for a moment, then tossed it into
the air and caught it, still twirling, as it fell. "Dreams are
important, though. My cousin dreamed he was a door-
mat one time, and a week later an ogre stepped on him."
Chane stared at the twirling staff. "What is that thing,
anyways"
'What t" Chess blinked and stopped twirling the stick.
"Oh, this? It's a hoopak. Tell me some more about your
helmet dream."
"Well, it's just a dream. I've had it now and then, most
of my life. I dream I'm in a place I've never seen before,
and there's something there. Sometimes it's a locked chest,
sometimes a bag, sometimes a pile of stones or a wooden
box. But I open it, and there is an old helmet inside. A war
helm, with horns and a spire, cheekplates, noseguard...

it always looks the same, and every time I start to put it on
my head there is a voice that says, " 'No, not now. Not