creature. It was a dragon. Then she was almost there.
She took a deep breath in her chest and stepped forward. There must be a cave nearby. The sounds and sensations of something dangerous but desirable grew stronger. She held her breath. If anything, she might well breathe out fire now, and fire so strong that it would consume half of these mountains. There was a real elemental bubbling inside her, and something was slumbering in the depths of the cave.
The harpy lurking behind her train suddenly fell silent. Rhianon realized that she had to step into the darkness first. She found the entrance to the cave easily. As she drew nearer, the view of the mountain hollow opened up to her. If the path was enchanted for others, it was not for her. All doors in the magical world seemed to be open to her as of late. Along the way, she wondered if this was the same dragon cave where Madael had led her once. It didn’t seem to be. It was much more spacious, and there was no hilly terrain or heather fields in front of the ridge. And there were shimmering stalactites and stalagmites, but here it smelled of slime and mold and stale blood. Rhianon saw a pile of tarnished weapons in front of the entrance. The blades were rusted with dried blood and something else. Green slime trickled across the stony floor, like dragon poison. It was the same kind that the creatures at the bottom of the well usually exuded. The glitter of the jewels in the distance also seemed too dim. What attracted Rhianon was something else: the books. The precious folio covers must have cost a fortune. One such book, with its gold clasps studded with carbuncles and sapphires, could buy its own fortress or estate. They were decorated with large emeralds, topazes, opals. One ruby, like a large tear, twinkled against the gold binding, and looked as if a heart had been taken out of her chest from afar. She wanted to open the books and see what was inside. Whether she could read the intricate symbols, the whole ligature of ancient witchcraft spells? Rhianon let her hands free and reached for the precious settings. The clasps clicked lightly, and immediately she pressed them with her finger and the pages, made of calfskin or maybe even human, rustled. The dry parchment resembled the rustling of autumn leaves. Autumn! Rhianon sighed softly. Soon it would be summer, the heat, the sultry days, the season of bright sunshine. But after all, the sun is associated with Madael, and thus with luxurious autumn. She met him in autumn, and autumn is a time of fading. The last flash of nature’s exuberant luxury paves the way for a harsh winter. What else could be more symbolic of the fallen angel? Autumn seems to characterize him – his rise and his fall. Those brightly colored gems on the covers of witch books also remind us of autumn, colored with unusually variegated colors before the fading. Can the coloring of a gemstone also fade? Probably yes, but only with the demise of Dennitsa. As long as he is, the jewels will not lose their value, nor will they fade or crack like simpler, short-lived materials. It is as if he feeds his gold with his own life. It’s part of him.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
