[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
With a treasure of the sort that they believed the bottle to be, they would head directly for the safety of
their burrow home. That meant they would travel north out of the forestlands of Sterling Silver through
the western borders of the Greensward and finally to the hill country beyond to their gnome community.
They would not travel fast; they were slow creatures under the best of circumstances and they were
preoccupied with the bottle. Ben was half-convinced that the little guys really didn t view what they were
doing as theft in any event and would not be concerned with anyone following. That meant they would
not be running, and Bunion might find them rain or no rain before the day was out.
So they meandered north, picking their way through the raindrops and puddles, waiting patiently for
Bunion to return with the news that he had found them. Bunion would find them, of course. Nothing could
escape a kobold once he made up his mind to track it. The kobolds were fairy creatures who could
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move from place to place almost swifter than the eye could follow. Bunion would catch up to the gnomes
in nothing flat once he came across their trail, and Bunion had seemed certain he would do so quickly.
Ben hoped so. He was worried about this demon.
A Darkling, Questor had called it. Ben tried to envision it as he rode and failed to find a satisfactory
image. Questor had not seen the creature for better than twenty years, and his memory as usual was a bit
hazy. Sometimes it was little and sometimes it was big, Questor had said. Ben shook his head,
remembering the wizard s confusion. Big help. What mattered most, in any case, was the magic the
Darkling wielded magic that was always bad news for whoever came up against it. But maybe Fillip
and Sot had not yet opened the bottle and let the Darkling free. Maybe they could manage to stifle their
curiosity long enough for him to catch them before they gave in to it.
He sighed, shifting uncomfortably atop Jurisdiction as the rain blew into his face on a sudden gust of
wind. Maybe the sun would come out if he clapped his hands, too.
I think it might be clearing a bit, High Lord, Questor called out suddenly from just behind him.
Ben nodded wordlessly, never believing it for a moment. It was probably going to rain like this for forty
days and forty nights, and they ought to be out building an ark instead of chasing around the countryside
after those pin-headed gnomes. It had been almost a full day now since Abernathy had disappeared into
the light with his medallion, and he was beginning to despair. How was Abernathy going to take care of
himself in Ben s world? Even if he did somehow manage to elude Michel Ard Rhi, where could he go?
He didn t know anyone. He didn t know the first thing about the geography of Ben s world. And the
minute he opened his mouth to ask someone...
Ben quickly blocked the rest of that scenario from his mind. There was no point in dwelling on
Abernathy or the medallion. He had to concentrate his energy on getting the bottle back from Fillip and
Sot. Even without the services of the Paladin, he felt confident he could do that. Bunion and Parsnip were
more than a match for the gnomes, Darkling or no, and Questor Thews ought to be able to use his own
magic to counteract that of the demon if it should become necessary to do so. If they were quick enough,
they would get the bottle back again before Fillip and Sot even knew what had happened.
Still, it would have been nice to be able to rely on the Paladin, he thought as frightening as his alter ego
was to him. He could still remember the times he had been transformed into the knight-errant armor
closing him about, straps and buckles clinking into place, the smell of fighting and the memories of battle
filling his senses. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and he was repelled and drawn to it at the same
time. He breathed the wet, cold air and pictured it again in his mind. Sometimes, when he let himself
consider the possibility, he was afraid that, with enough exposure, the experience of becoming the
Paladin could become an addiction...
He shrugged the thought away. Such thoughts didn t matter just now. Without the medallion, there could
be no transformation. Without the medallion, the Paladin was just a dream.
Morning stretched into midday, and they paused long enough to consume a cold lunch within the shelter
of a stand of crimson maple. There was still no sign of Bunion. No one spoke of the matter, but all were
concerned. Time was quickly slipping away. They rode out again after a short rest, edging now into the
Greensward. Long, grassy stretches of flatland spread away before them east and north. The rain had
begun to diminish, fulfilling Questor s expectations, and the air warmed slightly. Daylight was gray and
hazy through a vast blanket of gauzy, rumpled clouds.
A short time later, Bunion appeared. He appeared not from the north as expected, but from directly
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
west. He came up to them so swiftly that he was almost on top of them before they saw him, his wiry
body skittering and dancing through the damp. His eyes were bright, and he was grinning like a delighted
child, all his sharp teeth in evidence. He had found Fillip and Sot. The G home Gnomes were not on their
way north after all. As a matter of fact, they did not appear to be on their way to much of anywhere.
They were scarcely two miles distant, engrossed in watching raindrops fall from trees and turn into
brightly colored gemstones.
What? Ben exclaimed in disbelief, certain he had heard wrong.
Questor hastily said something to Bunion, listened to the kobold s reply, and turned back to Ben. They
have opened the bottle, High Lord. They have set the Darkling free.
And the Darkling is turning raindrops into gems?
Yes, High Lord. Questor looked decidedly uneasy. Apparently it amuses the gnomes.
I ll bet it does, those little ferret-faced bozos! Ben scowled. Why wasn t anything ever easy? Well, so
much for getting the bottle back unopened. Now what, Questor? Will the Darkling try to stop us from
putting it back in the bottle?
Questor shook his head doubtfully. That depends on Fillip and Sot, High Lord. Whoever holds the
bottle controls the demon.
So the real question is, will Fillip and Sot refuse to give the bottle back to us? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
With a treasure of the sort that they believed the bottle to be, they would head directly for the safety of
their burrow home. That meant they would travel north out of the forestlands of Sterling Silver through
the western borders of the Greensward and finally to the hill country beyond to their gnome community.
They would not travel fast; they were slow creatures under the best of circumstances and they were
preoccupied with the bottle. Ben was half-convinced that the little guys really didn t view what they were
doing as theft in any event and would not be concerned with anyone following. That meant they would
not be running, and Bunion might find them rain or no rain before the day was out.
So they meandered north, picking their way through the raindrops and puddles, waiting patiently for
Bunion to return with the news that he had found them. Bunion would find them, of course. Nothing could
escape a kobold once he made up his mind to track it. The kobolds were fairy creatures who could
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
move from place to place almost swifter than the eye could follow. Bunion would catch up to the gnomes
in nothing flat once he came across their trail, and Bunion had seemed certain he would do so quickly.
Ben hoped so. He was worried about this demon.
A Darkling, Questor had called it. Ben tried to envision it as he rode and failed to find a satisfactory
image. Questor had not seen the creature for better than twenty years, and his memory as usual was a bit
hazy. Sometimes it was little and sometimes it was big, Questor had said. Ben shook his head,
remembering the wizard s confusion. Big help. What mattered most, in any case, was the magic the
Darkling wielded magic that was always bad news for whoever came up against it. But maybe Fillip
and Sot had not yet opened the bottle and let the Darkling free. Maybe they could manage to stifle their
curiosity long enough for him to catch them before they gave in to it.
He sighed, shifting uncomfortably atop Jurisdiction as the rain blew into his face on a sudden gust of
wind. Maybe the sun would come out if he clapped his hands, too.
I think it might be clearing a bit, High Lord, Questor called out suddenly from just behind him.
Ben nodded wordlessly, never believing it for a moment. It was probably going to rain like this for forty
days and forty nights, and they ought to be out building an ark instead of chasing around the countryside
after those pin-headed gnomes. It had been almost a full day now since Abernathy had disappeared into
the light with his medallion, and he was beginning to despair. How was Abernathy going to take care of
himself in Ben s world? Even if he did somehow manage to elude Michel Ard Rhi, where could he go?
He didn t know anyone. He didn t know the first thing about the geography of Ben s world. And the
minute he opened his mouth to ask someone...
Ben quickly blocked the rest of that scenario from his mind. There was no point in dwelling on
Abernathy or the medallion. He had to concentrate his energy on getting the bottle back from Fillip and
Sot. Even without the services of the Paladin, he felt confident he could do that. Bunion and Parsnip were
more than a match for the gnomes, Darkling or no, and Questor Thews ought to be able to use his own
magic to counteract that of the demon if it should become necessary to do so. If they were quick enough,
they would get the bottle back again before Fillip and Sot even knew what had happened.
Still, it would have been nice to be able to rely on the Paladin, he thought as frightening as his alter ego
was to him. He could still remember the times he had been transformed into the knight-errant armor
closing him about, straps and buckles clinking into place, the smell of fighting and the memories of battle
filling his senses. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and he was repelled and drawn to it at the same
time. He breathed the wet, cold air and pictured it again in his mind. Sometimes, when he let himself
consider the possibility, he was afraid that, with enough exposure, the experience of becoming the
Paladin could become an addiction...
He shrugged the thought away. Such thoughts didn t matter just now. Without the medallion, there could
be no transformation. Without the medallion, the Paladin was just a dream.
Morning stretched into midday, and they paused long enough to consume a cold lunch within the shelter
of a stand of crimson maple. There was still no sign of Bunion. No one spoke of the matter, but all were
concerned. Time was quickly slipping away. They rode out again after a short rest, edging now into the
Greensward. Long, grassy stretches of flatland spread away before them east and north. The rain had
begun to diminish, fulfilling Questor s expectations, and the air warmed slightly. Daylight was gray and
hazy through a vast blanket of gauzy, rumpled clouds.
A short time later, Bunion appeared. He appeared not from the north as expected, but from directly
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
west. He came up to them so swiftly that he was almost on top of them before they saw him, his wiry
body skittering and dancing through the damp. His eyes were bright, and he was grinning like a delighted
child, all his sharp teeth in evidence. He had found Fillip and Sot. The G home Gnomes were not on their
way north after all. As a matter of fact, they did not appear to be on their way to much of anywhere.
They were scarcely two miles distant, engrossed in watching raindrops fall from trees and turn into
brightly colored gemstones.
What? Ben exclaimed in disbelief, certain he had heard wrong.
Questor hastily said something to Bunion, listened to the kobold s reply, and turned back to Ben. They
have opened the bottle, High Lord. They have set the Darkling free.
And the Darkling is turning raindrops into gems?
Yes, High Lord. Questor looked decidedly uneasy. Apparently it amuses the gnomes.
I ll bet it does, those little ferret-faced bozos! Ben scowled. Why wasn t anything ever easy? Well, so
much for getting the bottle back unopened. Now what, Questor? Will the Darkling try to stop us from
putting it back in the bottle?
Questor shook his head doubtfully. That depends on Fillip and Sot, High Lord. Whoever holds the
bottle controls the demon.
So the real question is, will Fillip and Sot refuse to give the bottle back to us? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]