Lisa Smedman - Venom’s Taste
Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Lisa Smedman - Venom’s Taste» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Фэнтези, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.
- Название:Venom’s Taste
- Автор:
- Жанр:
- Год:неизвестен
- ISBN:нет данных
- Рейтинг книги:4 / 5. Голосов: 1
-
Избранное:Добавить в избранное
- Отзывы:
-
Ваша оценка:
- 80
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
Venom’s Taste: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация
Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Venom’s Taste»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.
Venom’s Taste — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком
Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Venom’s Taste», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.
Интервал:
Закладка:
Zelia let out a slow, surprised hiss as Arvin sat up. “With a single asana ,” she said softly. “Incredible.”
“Teach me more,” Arvin said, flush with the energy that was coursing through his body.
“Very well,” Zelia said, sounding edgy. It was as if Arvin’s success had irritated her somehow. “Let’s see if you can learn one of the simpler powers-the Far Hand. Hold the position and send the energy you’ve summoned to a point on your forehead, between your eyes.”
Arvin did as instructed, mentally guiding the energy up his spine. It seemed to find a resting point all on its own, coiling just inside his forehead, between his eyes.
Zelia stepped in front of him, holding something: his magical glove. Seeing it in her hand, he nearly lost his concentration.
“Maintain your focus!” Zelia snapped. “Keep the energy tightly coiled, until it’s time to use it.”
Realizing that she had chosen a valuable possession deliberately, to test him, Arvin gritted his teeth and found his focus again.
“Good. Now reach out with the energy; direct its energy with your gaze. Take the glove from my hand.”
Arvin tried but could not. “I… don’t think I can,” he gasped.
Zelia’s lips curved into a tight smile.
Prodded by anger-she didn’t want him to succeed-Arvin tried harder and felt the energy in his forehead loosen… just a little.
Zelia backed away from him, retreating until she was up against the vine-covered rail that surrounded the rooftop. She continued to hold the glove in front of her. “Give up?” she smirked.
Arvin shook his head and continued to concentrate. Once again, the energy loosened-but not enough. The glove in Zelia’s hands twitched then lay still.
Zelia’s eyes widened. “Try again,” she said, serious once more. “Send the energy out all at once… now!” As she spoke, she tossed the glove over the edge of the rooftop.
“No,” Arvin gasped.
The energy that had been spiraling between his eyes suddenly rushed out through them. He saw a bright streak of silver flash out toward the glove. His vision filled with sparkling light. When it cleared, the line of light was gone. The glove, however, was hovering above the rail. Tentatively, with slow jerks, he drew the invisible energy back toward him, reeling it back into his mind. The glove was tugged along with it and moved through the air toward him with short, choppy movements then fell onto the ground in front of him.
“You can relax now.”
Arvin sagged onto the ground and let the tension flow from his muscles. Sitting up, he tilted his head to stretch his neck. “I did it,” he said. “I learned a new power.”
“Yes.” Zelia stared at him with a thoughtful expression, as if his success had surprised her. “That’s enough for one night,” she said curtly. “It’s almost Middark. I must see if the cultists have returned to the chamber.”
Arvin nodded, suddenly exhausted. Trembling slightly, he pulled his clothes back on. He’d expected the invigorating rush of energy to continue, but all he wanted to do was sleep. He hoped the headache would let him. When he’d finished dressing, he sat again, his back against one of the potted plants. He found himself fighting to keep his eyes open. Even his curiosity about what Zelia was doing-sinking into a cross-legged position with the soles of her feet uppermost, just as his mother had done when she meditated-couldn’t keep him awake.
As Zelia stared off into the night sky, hissing as she summoned up the psionic power that would let her peer into the sewer chamber, he fell asleep…
And into the strangest dream.
CHAPTER 7
23 Kythorn, Middark
Arvin lay on his side, knees drawn up to his chest and arms coiled around his legs. He was midway between sleep and wakefulness-aware that he lay on a rooftop, his breaths slow and even as they hissed in and out of his mouth, yet with his mind entangled in the strands of a dream. It was a strange sensation, almost as if he were awake and observing the dream from a distance-a dream that was as vivid as waking.
In the dream he was a child-a serpent child. He was slithering down a corridor as fast as he could, contractions rippling through his body as he pushed with his scales against the smooth green stone of the floor. Behind him loomed a human child of about five years of age-two years younger than Arvin-with braided hair and a slave brand on her cheek. She was laughing as she chased Arvin into a carpeted dining hall, her eyes glittering with excitement. Arvin, hissing with delight at having eluded the lumbering human, heaved the front half of his torso upright and began to slither up onto a table. Too late. The slave girl bent down and yanked the carpet, sending Arvin tumbling. Then she leaped forward and slapped his tail with her palm.
“Tag the tail!” she shrilled. “Tag the tail and you’re it!”
Arvin felt rage course through him. No. It wasn’t fair-the slave had cheated. She hadn’t given him enough of a start. His body drew back into a coil; then he lashed out. His fangs sank into the girl’s arm, and he tasted the sweet, hot tang of blood.
The slave girl gave a strangled gasp and staggered backward, staring at the twin beads of blood on her forearm, then collapsed onto the floor. “I thought…” she gasped, her tongue already thickening in her mouth. “We… friends…” Then her eyes glazed.
Arvin’s tongue flickered in and out of his mouth. The slave girl lay still on the floor, no longer breathing. Dead.
Regret trickled through him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so hasty. Who was he going to play with, now?
Arvin shifted, turning over in his sleep. The night air was growing cooler, less muggy. He squirmed over to a section of rooftop that retained a little of the day’s warmth; his body drank it in. A part of him realized that he had moved like a snake, undulating hips and shoulders in order to shift himself…
The dream shifted. Now Arvin was kneeling on a low stone platform in the middle of a room richer than any he had ever seen. It had a high, domed ceiling held up by gilded columns, windows draped with silk curtains that fluttered in the evening breeze, and walls painted with Origin frescos-a series of images showing the “World Serpent looking down upon the snakes, lizards, and other reptilian races issuing from Her cloaca.
Arvin was weary with the exhaustion that follows an intense rage. His hands were raw from having pounded his fists repeatedly against his sleeping platform, and his skin was moist and itching from the acidic sweat that had oozed out between his scales. He’d hissed until his jaw ached, thrown his dinner against the door-splatters of egg and shell clung to its polished wood-and still his mother hadn’t relented. He was not going to be given another slave with whom to play. Not until he learned to coil his temper. Until he learned to master his emotions. Until he stopped acting so human.
That had punctured his pride. Humans were stupid, blundering creatures. Look how the yuan-ti manipulated and dominated them, just as humans and the other lesser races dominated animals. It was the natural order of things. It-
The door opened. Arvin looked up at the strangest human he’d ever seen. The man was short, dark skinned, and bald-and so wrinkled his face looked as though it had shrunk beneath its skin. Yet he was lean and well muscled. His only article of clothing was a loincloth, nearly as dark as he was. Around one wrist was coiled a finger-thin turquoise serpent with translucent yellow wings: a flying snake from the jungles of Chult. Arvin stared at it, transfixed, as it raised its head and hissed. He’d wanted one of those for so long…
Читать дальшеИнтервал:
Закладка:
Похожие книги на «Venom’s Taste»
Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Venom’s Taste» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.
Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Venom’s Taste» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.