John DeChancie Castle 07 Castle Spellbound

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.Osmirik was not a very good magician.In fact, he was not much of a magicianat all.He knew a great deal of theory, but working efficacious magic was amatter of talent as well as acumen.And talent, in the long run, was quitepossibly more important than acumen in the making of a successful magician.But now it was vitally important that he become a successful magician, and invery short order.He took his seat again, opened the book, and began to study.GRAND BALLROOMWITH ONE MIGHTY SWEEP Of HIS broadaxe, Snowclaw decapitated another opponent.The head rolled across the parquetry and stopped, its bulging eyes staring upat the cut-crystal chandeliers.Then it disappeared, as did the headless bodyat Snowclaw's feet.Snowclaw didn't care for that.Better both should liethere and bleed satisfyingly for a while.Nevertheless, Snowclaw was having one hell of a good time.Another gladiator came at him, this one wielding a trident.Snowclaw swung theaxe and clipped the weapon off at the prongs, then followed through, goinginto a graceful pirouette and bringing his blade whistling around again totake the man's legs off at the knees.Blood gushed, then vanished."Darn it."Wasn't good sport just to disappear like that.The least they could do washang around a minute and spill a little gore.The room was clanging with gladiatorial action, but at the moment no one elsewas free to engageSnowclaw.The great white beast waited impatiently."This is no fun."He watched for a short time.None of these guys was any match for him.Or thefemales for that matter (and some of them were better than the males).He left the ballroom and strode down the hall, swiping this way and that toclear a path.Soon everyone got the idea and stayed out of his way.He met few challengers.At one point he, witnessed a victory and was ready todo combat with the victor, but the latter took one look at the broadaxe andwanted no part of it.Page 61ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Aw, come on, fella.""You're not even human!" was the man's excuse as he skedaddled."Lot of fun you are."Snowclaw walked on.No one would give him so much as a glance.Growingfrustrated, and even though it wasn't exactly fair, he whanged an unsuspectingcombatant on the head as he passed, using the flat of the blade.The man wasout for the count, of course, but aside from that.He came to an elevator shaft-one of several in the keep-and pressed the DOWNbutton.Maybe another floor would provide more action.He passed the time watching the proceedings.Then a soft chime sounded; thedoors slid open and he stepped in.The only other passenger was a manstrumming a battered guitar."Down?" Snowclaw asked.The guitar player nodded.The man was lanky, red-haired, balding, ratherhomely, and wore scruffy clothes.He launched into a folk song.Snowclaw did not know the tune (he knew no tunes, as such), but instantlyhated it.The man's voice was nasal and off-key (Snowy had perfect pitch) andjust plain lousy.Nevertheless he belted out the lyrics, which were mawkishlysentimental and more than a little disingenuous in purport.The elevator descended, and the man sang.Snowy was slightly embarrassed atfirst.Then he began to get irked.Several minutes later the elevator wasstill plunging and the man had squeaked out half-a-dozen verses, all more orless the same.Even Snowclaw, who knew nothing about any kind of music, muchless human music, could see that enough listening to this sort of drivel couldlead to serious brain damage and an erosion of the finer sensibilities.It wasrepetitious, simplistic, hackneyed, and boring.The man was singing right into Snowy's face.Snowy tried to ignore him, butthe man persisted.Snowy pushed him away, but the guy didn't get the idea.Snowy got all the moreticked off.Still the elevator fell.Snowy stabbed desperately at the control panel.Mercifully, the man finished.And segued neatly into another number, this onesounding like a plagiarism of the last; which in fact it was, though sung ateven louder volume.Something about striking and forming a union.With a growl.Snowy grabbed the guitar and smashed the thing over the folksinger's sparse-haired cranium [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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