Gorgon

Начало книги

Ducetius kneeled to grab a handful of coins. He rose slowly, his eyes fixed on the magnificent golden discs. Below him, the red marble street was so polished he could see his grin reflected in its burnished hues.

He blinked away the sting of perspiration and wiped an arm quickly over his brow. Ignoring the stifling heat he glanced about, still grinning. It was true — the hidden city of stone with its streets of red marble, majestic houses, elaborate statues, and black rivers of oil, some of it afire, existed. And there was the treasure, so much of it, piles and piles of precious stones, metals, and mountains of gold coin.

The single long street was abandoned, silent — but it was like the silence that grew from the holding of breath rather than that of solitude. Ducetius felt he was being watched. The statues were so lifelike and their details exquisite, but their visages were nightmarish. It was if the sculptor had captured a terror that had befallen the models in life.

Читать дальше →