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Tome of the Undergates - Sam Sykes
- Дата:26.06.2024
- Категория: Фантастика и фэнтези / Фэнтези
- Название: Tome of the Undergates
- Автор: Sam Sykes
- Просмотров:2
- Комментариев:0
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Аудиокнига "Tome of the Undergates" от Sam Sykes
📚 "Tome of the Undergates" - захватывающее фэнтези приключение, которое погрузит вас в мир магии, опасностей и загадок. Главный герой, _Lenk_, вместе со своей командой отправляется на поиски древней артефакта, способного изменить ход истории. Но путешествие не обещает быть легким, ведь на пути героев становятся монстры, предательства и тайны прошлого.
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Об авторе
🖋 Sam Sykes - талантливый писатель фэнтези, чьи произведения завоевали сердца миллионов читателей по всему миру. Его увлекательные истории, наполненные экшеном и интригой, не оставят вас равнодушными. Погрузитесь в мир его воображения и отправьтесь в увлекательное путешествие вместе с героями его книг.
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Taoharga was born here, he knew, and she was the swiftest runner in the land. The earth scorned her feet and the beasts feared her approach.
He inhaled again. Gathar stood here and sheltered his children beneath his wings when the storms came and did not relent for three days.
The sound of breath. Argha and Hartaga were born here. They stood, they fought, they hunted and they bled together.
They came one after the other, his breaths short and ragged. Gratha laughed while she mated here. Harathag roared to the sky here as his children died before he did. Iagrah watched her son catch a fish and wrestle with it here.
‘There. .’ Gariath whispered, his voice afraid to confirm what he knew, ‘there were Rhega here.’ His eyelids twitched. His hand pressed hard against the stone. ‘They were. . we were here.’
Were.
It was not the name of his people or his family that echoed in his mind. It was that ugly, muttering qualifier that caused his brain to ache and his lips to quiver. Rhega were here. They are not any more.
That should have been the end of it, he knew, one more reason why hope was stupid, one more reason to go running back in tears to the comfort of hatred and the warmth of anger. He should have gone back, back to fighting, back to bloodshed. But he could not bring himself to walk away, not yet, not before he looked to the elder and asked.
‘Where did they all go?’
Gariath’s ear-frills twitched as he heard the sound of leaves rustling. He cast a glower out over the surrounding underbrush. Had one of the weakling humans followed him to this place where they weren’t meant to go?
Just as well, he thought as he flexed his claws. There was no more reason to continue this imaginary game of pretending they didn’t deserve to die. There was no more reason to keep them alive. They were the answer to his question, they were where the Rhega went.
No more questions. No more excuses. This time they all died.
‘Come out and die with a bit of dignity,’ he growled, ‘or start running so I can chase you.’
His unseen spy answered, bursting from the foliage in a flash of red. It moved quickly, tearing so swiftly across the green and through the stream that he did not even lay eyes upon it until it was upon him.
There was a sudden pressure upon his ankle, warm and almost affectionate. Slowly, he glanced down, his claws untensing, wings furling themselves as he stared at the tiny red muzzle trying to wrap itself around his foot.
The pup, apparently, did not sense his smile and the young creature renewed his vigour, clawing at Gariath’s leg with short limbs, trying to coil a stubby tail about the taller Rhega’s leg to bring him to the ground.
Gariath reached down and tried to dislodge the pup with a gentle tug. The young Rhega only held on faster, emitting what was undoubtedly intended to be a warning growl. His body trembling with contained mirth, Gariath hooked his hands under the pup’s armpits and pulled him up to stare into his face.
From behind a short, blunted muzzle, the pup stared at his elder. His ear-frills were extended, not yet developed enough to be able to fold them. His wings were tiny flaps of skin hanging on his back, the bones not strong enough to lift them yet. His stubby little red tail wagged happily as he stared at Gariath through bright eyes.
That’s right, Gariath remembered with a smile, our eyes are supposed to be bright, not dark.
‘I almost got you,’ the pup growled. He bit at Gariath’s nose, the taller Rhega’s nostrils flickering.
‘I don’t know,’ Gariath replied with a thoughtful hum. ‘You’re a pup.’
‘I’m a Rhega.’
‘You’re small.’
‘I’m big.’
‘Big enough to be held like a pup, maybe.’
At that, the pup emitted a shrill snarl and bit Gariath’s finger. The sensation of tiny teeth grazing his tough hide was familiar. He remembered a pair of jaws nipping at him in such a way, two equally small voices insisting how big they were.
The smile he offered in response, however, did not feel so familiar.
‘Fine, you’re huge.’ Gariath laughed, dropping the pup.
The smaller Rhega landed with a growl and a scrabble of short limbs as he scrambled to his feet. Gariath, in response, fell to his own rear, taking a seat opposite the pup. He could not help but stare at the small creature; he had forgotten how small he had started as. The pup was tiny, but not weak, unharmed from the fall, back up and on all fours as he growled playfully at the older Rhega.
Did I ever growl like that? Gariath asked himself. Were my eyes ever so bright?
‘I might not be so big now,’ the pup said, making a feinted lunge at the older Rhega, ‘but my mother says I will be someday.’
And at the pup’s words, Gariath felt his smile drop, fade back into a frown.
He doesn’t know, he realised.
And how could the pup know? He couldn’t see himself, couldn’t look at the way the sunlight occasionally passed through his body. He could not see the distance in his own eyes, suggesting just how long he had been so small. He could not see that the earth did not depress beneath him when he rolled and jumped.
He couldn’t possibly know he wasn’t alive any more.
‘What’s wrong?’ the pup asked, tilting his head to the side.
‘Nothing is wrong,’ Gariath replied, forcing the smile back onto his face. ‘It’s. . just been a long time since I’ve seen one of you. . one of us.’
‘Me, too,’ the pup said, plopping onto his rear end. ‘There used to be lots of us.’ He looked around the glade and frowned. ‘I wonder when they’re coming back.’
Tell him, Gariath told himself, he deserves to know. Tell him they’re not coming back.
‘I’m sure they will soon,’ Gariath replied instead.
Coward.
‘I hope so. . they left a long time ago.’
‘Where did they go?’
The pup opened his mouth to speak, then frowned. He looked down at the earth dejectedly.
‘I. . I don’t know.’
‘Then why are you still here? Didn’t your father take you with him when he left?’
‘My mother was supposed to,’ the pup replied. ‘My father left. . long ago, long before she did.’
‘He died?’
‘I. . think so. It’s hard to remember.’
The pup placed two stubby clawed hands on the tiny bone nubs that would someday be two broad horns. Would have been, Gariath corrected himself.
‘My head hurts thinking about it,’ the pup whined. ‘You’re not going anywhere, are you?’
‘Of course not,’ Gariath said, smiling. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Grahta,’ the pup said. ‘It means-’
‘Strongest,’ the older Rhega finished. He flashed a coy smile. ‘Are you sure it’s accurate?’ He prodded the pup, sending him tumbling over. ‘You don’t look very strong.’
‘I will be someday!’ Grahta scrabbled to his feet and lunged at Gariath’s hand as he pulled it away. ‘It’s a much better name than whatever yours is, anyway.’
‘My name,’ the older Rhega said, drawing himself up proudly, ‘is Gariath.’
‘Wisest?’ Grahta laughed. ‘That can’t be right.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Gariath asked, frowning. ‘I’m plenty wise.’
‘You’re plenty beat up, is what you are.’ Grahta poked his stubby finger against the cuts crossing Gariath’s flesh, the traces of black where his skin had been burned. ‘What happened to you?’
Gariath stared down at that finger, prodding so curiously, taking everything in through a tiny digit. They had fingers so tiny, he recalled.
‘I. .’ he whispered with a sigh, ‘I hurt myself.’
Tried to kill myself, he added mentally, tried to join you, Grahta, and your mother and father and my-
‘That wasn’t too smart,’ Grahta said, frowning. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve heard you talk to the other creatures you walk with. You yell at them, call them names, try to hurt them.’ The pup’s frown deepened, his eyes turning towards the earth. ‘My father used to talk like that.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were listening.’
‘You didn’t sound very happy.’
Gariath followed the pup’s gaze. ‘I’m not.’
‘Why? Don’t you have enough to eat?’
‘I have enough to eat,’ Gariath replied. ‘I just. . I don’t have anyone to talk to.’
‘What about those creatures?’
‘The humans?’
‘Is that what they’re called? They smell bad.’ The pup tilted his head to one side. ‘Is that why you’re not happy? Because they smell bad? Maybe you could ask them to wash.’
‘Humans are. .’ Gariath sighed. ‘They smell bad no matter how much they wash. And they only smell worse the more of them that are around.’
‘Are there a lot of them?’
‘Many.’
‘More than the Rhega?’
Many more. Thousands more. There are no more Rhega. Tell him. He deserves to know.
‘You don’t have to worry about humans,’ Gariath said, ‘so let’s not talk about it.’
‘All right,’ Grahta said. ‘How come there’s only one of you?’
Gariath winced.
‘I mean,’ the pup continued, ‘don’t you have a family?’
‘I did. . I do,’ the older Rhega said, nodding. ‘I have two sons.’
‘What are their names?’
Gariath paused at that, staring intently at the pup. ‘Their names are Tangahr and Grahta.’
‘Like me!’ The pup ran in a quick circle, barking excitedly. ‘Is your son the strongest, too?’
‘He was. . very strong,’ Gariath whispered, his voice choked suddenly. ‘His brother was, too. Much stronger than their father.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be strong too, someday,’ the pup said, nodding vigorously. ‘You just need to eat more meat.’
‘I’m. . sure I will be.’
‘Not as strong as me, though.’
‘Of course not.’
‘I’m very strong, you know. Once, I even killed a boar on my own. It was back when-’
The stream whispered quietly around them, no other sound to distract Gariath from hearing the pup. Every word echoed in his mind, every word felt like a claw dug into his chest that he couldn’t dislodge. He could hear himself in the pup’s voice, he could hear his own shrill bark, his own boasts, his own proclamations that he had made to his father when he was so young.
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