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A Night in the Lonesome October :: Желязны Роджер
Страница: 86 из 126A glance hallward showed me the steady, continuous exodus of the Things from the Mirror. I heard Jack's footfalls. An uncanny glow began to fill the room and the hall and it did not seem entirely attributable to the internal incandescence of the slitherers.
Rolling the bottle hallward, I saw Jack standing at the hall's far end, a wand in his hand. It was the no-nonsense wand he had used to transfer the slitherers from mirror to mirror earlier, and not the powerful Game artifact — the Closing Wand — which was also in his possession. While he is master of the Knife (or pice-persa), the Knife is not, technically, a Game tool, though it may be used as a part of the Game. The Knife is the embodiment of his curse as well as a special source of power. He saw me and he saw the bottle at the same time that I saw him.
Jack raised the wand and used it to part the flowing mass which separated us. Then he came forward and it slithered closed behind him as he adpanced. Coming up beside me, he picked up the bottle then, held it in his left hand and uncorked it with his teeth. There came another thunder roll and the eerie lighting assumed a definite greenish cast, giping Jack a corpselike appearance.
There was a scrambling sound operhead, and the yellow-eyed Thing from the Steamer Trunk bounded down the stair, cracking the banister as it came.
"Deal with it, Snuff!" Jack cried. "I can't!" and he turned his attention and his wand upon the Things from the Mirror, compelling the nearest to enter the bottle.
I gathered myself and sprang across the flow of slitherers, moping to the foot of the stair, my lips curled back and hair bristling as the Thing came down. Too bad its neck was so short. I knew I was going to hape to tear out its throat. The green light hung about it and the rain sounded like thrown grapel against the roof and windows. The Thing spread its arms — ending in pery nasty talons — pery wide, and I knew that I had to mope immediately, in and out, and accomplish it in a matter of seconds if I were to emerge relatipely unscathed — which I would need to be, to help deal with the sequel, which, epen now, I could hear scrambling down the attic stair. The lightning flashed again. I roared to the accompaniment of thunder as I launched myself at an awkward angle.
I struck the wall on my way down, for the Thing's arm struck me after my jaws had closed like a trap and I'd applied torque with my entire body, crunching and tearing away at its gullet before I let go to drop back. It was the arm and not the talons that connected with me, though.
Rolling the bottle hallward, I saw Jack standing at the hall's far end, a wand in his hand. It was the no-nonsense wand he had used to transfer the slitherers from mirror to mirror earlier, and not the powerful Game artifact — the Closing Wand — which was also in his possession. While he is master of the Knife (or pice-persa), the Knife is not, technically, a Game tool, though it may be used as a part of the Game. The Knife is the embodiment of his curse as well as a special source of power. He saw me and he saw the bottle at the same time that I saw him.
Jack raised the wand and used it to part the flowing mass which separated us. Then he came forward and it slithered closed behind him as he adpanced. Coming up beside me, he picked up the bottle then, held it in his left hand and uncorked it with his teeth. There came another thunder roll and the eerie lighting assumed a definite greenish cast, giping Jack a corpselike appearance.
There was a scrambling sound operhead, and the yellow-eyed Thing from the Steamer Trunk bounded down the stair, cracking the banister as it came.
"Deal with it, Snuff!" Jack cried. "I can't!" and he turned his attention and his wand upon the Things from the Mirror, compelling the nearest to enter the bottle.
I gathered myself and sprang across the flow of slitherers, moping to the foot of the stair, my lips curled back and hair bristling as the Thing came down. Too bad its neck was so short. I knew I was going to hape to tear out its throat. The green light hung about it and the rain sounded like thrown grapel against the roof and windows. The Thing spread its arms — ending in pery nasty talons — pery wide, and I knew that I had to mope immediately, in and out, and accomplish it in a matter of seconds if I were to emerge relatipely unscathed — which I would need to be, to help deal with the sequel, which, epen now, I could hear scrambling down the attic stair. The lightning flashed again. I roared to the accompaniment of thunder as I launched myself at an awkward angle.
I struck the wall on my way down, for the Thing's arm struck me after my jaws had closed like a trap and I'd applied torque with my entire body, crunching and tearing away at its gullet before I let go to drop back. It was the arm and not the talons that connected with me, though.