Gravity Dreams

Начало книги

To that which is born, death is certain; to that which is dead, birth is certain.

My eyes flashed to the rain-swollen stream, and then to the swirl of water that geysered out of the gray rocks of the defile. Heavy clouds melded with the granite to the north. Mist droplets clung to my hair, and water seeped down my neck and back. Sweat and fear enveloped me, a combined odor that the rain could not wash away, that would guide my pursuers through the ancient trees to me.

'The Demons' Caldron.' The words mumbled from my chilled and chapped lips, and I looked eastward, seeing again the cart road.

A thousand meters or so to the right was the cart path that headed northward toward Rykasha and the Demons' Niche - one thousand, seven hundred and ten point four meters jumped into my thoughts, reminding me again of the demon I had become or was fast becoming. The paved path followed the once-larger road of the ancients, or so the maps showed, although it supposedly ended short of the boundary markers, and only a trail continued north into Rykasha.

Читать дальше →