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.For just a moment she thought that there were shadowy human figures in there, as if of attendants, and in the next moment she was not sure.She pulled open a door, gasping with relief to find that Fisher had spoken truly and it was not locked.She hurled herself into the darkened interior, slammed the door, and pushed down the latch that ought to lock up everything.From somewhere in the rear came a dim glow: there was of course an onboard computer screen.Out flew the web and floated wide;The mirror crack'd from side to side;'The curse is come upon me,' criedThe Lady of Shalott.Outside, the single pair of running feet were pounding closer.The figure loomed up, crossing the illuminated spaces.It was the heavy, one-armed man, the one Mordred had called Thrain.The keys were in the ignition, as Fisher had promised.The engine, thank God, leapt into life at once.Without bothering about such nonsense as seatbelts or lights, Elaine put her foot down hard on the accelerator, and the van leaped forward-there seemed to be engine power worthy of an ambulance at her command.Thrain, his pale-faced stocky figure almost right in front of the van, leaped sideways to avoid it, at the same time drawing something from a holster at his belt.A moment later, smashing impacts battered the van, but hidden armor kept the projectiles from penetrating the interior.Elaine drove in a circle, trying to get a clear look at the familiar exit.There it was.In desperation she drove straight at it, ignoring the fact that the horizontal arm of the exit gate was down.The arm jumped up as if by magic, when Elaine drove straight at it, hoping to break out violently if no other way was possible.The unmanned guard post shot past.And now the Antrobus Foundation and, she could hope, the whole night of madness and murder, were behind her.Abruptly, with the jolt of nightmare reasserting itself, another large vehicle, looking like the twin of the one in which Mordred and his people had arrived, loomed ahead, pulling out directly across the road, blocking the only passage, and her escape.Even as Elaine's foot was moving instinctively for the brake, Fisher-or some greater power-intervened onElaine's behalf.One moment her headlights showed the familiar drive, blocked by the triumphant enemy-and in the next the road ahead was clear, but unpaved and utterly unfamiliar.Large rocks and uneven.ruts jarred beneath the tires.Her right foot completed its motion to the brake pedal.She slowed down, but kept going, the vehicle lurching violently on uneven ground.Looking behind her through the large side mirrors, she saw the unpaved road, or track, on which she drove disappearing into deep night.There was no trace of lighted laboratory or parking lot, or indeed of any lights at all.Page 136ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlBut light ahead was growing.A kind of daylight, low in the sky.Elaine kept driving.In another ten minutes she had emerged into a different world, a vicinage all twilight green and shadowy, a land prodigally supplied with tall green trees, into the mass of which the curving road ahead soon disappeared.Elaine took her foot from the accelerator and applied the brake, turning a little off the road before the vehicle came to a full stop.When it had done so, she turned in the driver's seat and looked around.The night was silent, except for a jarringly out-of-season racketing of summer insects.No pursuit.But in a moment Elaine knew with certainty that she was not alone-she got up and made her way back into the rear of the ambulance.Two beds, or berths, were there, one on each side of a narrow central aisle, and one berth was occupied.Yes, there really was a patient, reclining on his back, an unconscious sandy-haired man of about fifty whose head above his eyebrows was bandaged heavily.TWENTY-FOURHakonThree days after Ambrosius's most recent departure, I looked up from my midday seat of contemplation in the chapel to see a dark-haired, middle-sized young man of twenty-five or so standing at one open end of the ruined space, regarding me with a kind of hopeful uncertainty.This newcomer had a good start on a beard, but his face had not changed that much, and to recognize him I did not need to take note of his exotic clothing or his lack of visible weapons.Respectfully I got to my feet."Greetings, Ambrosius-if that is still your name.""Greetings, Hakon." His face brightened, and he waved one hand in a disarmingly awkward gesture."I am glad you know me.Yes, the name of Ambrosius will still serve me well.The Old Man would like to see you, down in his sanctuary.""Then I'd best go to him at once." I got to my feet, stretching."Just a moment, Hakon.Have you seen Vivian? Where is she now?"I shook my head, smiling."Somewhere around here, pining for her missing lover.She will be pleased."A quarter of an hour later, the Ancient One and I were alone down in the deep rocks.This time the cave looked and felt different to me, somehow more hospitable.It was as if the very shapes of the rocks were smoother, the colors livelier.Merlin began by putting more questions to me, particularly about Vivian.I told him she seemed to be preparing to spend her life with his younger self, a statement on which he made no comment.When I had answered his other questions as well as I was able, I was ordered to proceed on the quest that Merlin had warned me would be very difficult, but also absolutely essential to the success of his great enterprise: to reach Lancelot in his monastery.I was to carry certain things to him, material objects as well as words.And-without fail-I was to enlist him in the cause of Camelot's renewal.Naturally enough, I asked Merlin how I would recognize King Arthur's famous warrior when I saw him.You will know him
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Tematy
IndexMaryjanice Davidson Fred The Merma
Irene Radford Merlins Descendents 01 Guardian Of The Balance
Barron T. A. Merlin 04 Lustro losu (CzP)
City of Bones The Mortal Instru Cassandra Clare
Fred Saberhagen Swords 3 The Third Book Of Swords
Fred Saberhagen Berserker 10 Berserker Throne
Fred Saberhagen Berserker 07 Berserker Blue Death
Fleming Ian Szpieg, który mnie kochał
PS00 Nienacki Zbigniew Pierwsza przygoda Pana Samochodzika
Christie Craig Don't Mess