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<p><font size="2" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Chto-to ty, svetlejshij, sovsem liudej svoih Raspustil. Kak zhe, ia stol nepochtitelno otozvalsia o sviatom. Dos tak i ne peremenil svoego polozheniia, a Kengsh v Ocherednoj raz rasslabilsia i vernulsia na mesto. Bud ty prokliat, gorko prostonala Onni, obhvativ ladoniami golovu v Nepoddelnom otchaianii. <br>
Posle chego dlinnye ruki Gronta plavno opustilis, utverdiv klinki v Razvernutom gorizontalnom polozhenii na nebolshom otlete ot beder, i on zamer v Obmanchivo rasslablennoj poze. Prichem sejchas nachal-to ia. U nih est shans razdavit vash razum, nesmotria na moi Usiliia pomeshat etomu. Da prebudet s vami Svet. <br>On poslyshalsia szadi Miagkij, murlykaiushchij i smertelno opasnyj. On dazhe ne vspotel, golos ego protiv ozhidaniia ne drozhal ot napriazheniia, kogda on Zagovoril s nej, a vzgliad sero-zelenyh glaz byl predelno serezen: chto-to poshlo ne tak, svetochtimaia, verno? Ohrannyj amulet ne srabotal. Ne dvigaias s mesta, on ostorozhno kosnulsia ih besplotnymi Rukami mentalnogo vospriiatiia, voshel v ih sut, lomaia ohrannye zakliatiia. Poslushnym ego nazvat bylo trudno. <br>
I eti Zhutkie, chudovishchnye, neveroiatnye myshcy. A mastera mechej interesovalo lish odno, Pojmal mag halda ili net. Filosofy, mat ih, ia fyrknul. Eshche odin koshmar. ejisuminyon R0ZaU1BDUUFZGFJdXllcRUFzWFxCRkAaQ0VbVFFHUkBeGlZeXw==</font></p>
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