Книга только для ознакомления
. "Do you mean
this?" He pulled out the red stone, which pulsed with a
steady rhythm as the dwarf reached an angry hand to
take it. 'You must have dropped that somewhere," the
kender said innocently. "I guess I picked it up for you.
Don't bother to thank me."
"What else do you have in that pouch that isn't
yours?" Chane growled.
Chess peered into his pouch. "I don't know. I lose
track. Here's a marble of some kind that I found on that
old battlefield. And some nice pebbles, and a toad's skull
...a couple of candles, some twine, an earring, a twig.
What's this? Oh, a pair of nice cat-tooth daggers." He
pulled out one of the daggers. "Didn't you used to have
one like this?"
"I had two like that," the dwarf rumbled.
"Did you? What did you do with them?"
"Give me that!" Chane growled.
Chess handed over the dagger, then closed his pouch.
"If you're going to expect me to replace everything you
lose -"
"Oh, shut up!" Chane stopped abruptly and looked
around. "Well, one good thing. Your spell has stopped
wailing."
The kender listened for a moment, then grinned. "He
has, hasn't he? Thank you, Zap."
"Agony," something voiceless mourned.
With the Spellbinder gem in his hand, Chane pointed.
'There it is. The green line. It goes up the by-path
|
