The Paladins

Начало книги

Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun labored amid the tall wooden book stands and the long chest of tiny drawers, crammed with exotic components, in his spellcasting chamber at the top of his tower. He turned from tome to tome on the stands, reading and reciting, while green and red sparks buzzed unnoticed around his body. He shook his head disapprovingly at one manual, turning to a fat grimoire on the next stand and moving its dragon-skin pages with a wave of his finger. Magical energy crackled around his hands. Masterfully controlled rage lent power to his incantations. The bride of Piergeiron Paladinson had been seized in the middle of her own wedding, and because she'd been stolen under Blackstaff s nose, he was taking it very personally!

"The Utter East is tied into this somehow," he grumbled. "The bloodforges that created Lady Eidola's kidnappers came from there, but when I scry the Utter East, the crystal ball goes dark." As Khelben glared at the lightless seeing crystal resting on its onyx pedestal, an ancient spell designed to pierce magical fog, crafted by the great Drawmij of Oerth, popped into his head, and he snapped his fingers at the thought. He crossed his laboratory to a chest of scrolls and thumbed through them until he found the one he wanted, unrolled it, and absorbed the words.

Читать дальше →