Аннотация
J. Robert King
Onslaught
PROLOGUE: THE UNHEALING WOUND
Jeska clutched the wound in her belly and curled up in a soft bed of soil. Centuries of humus had made this a lovely place to lie, a likely place to die.
Jeska didn't want to die.
She wasn't home. Instead of her people, tawny-skinned and golden-eyed, she was among mantis folk. Instead of her brother Kamahl, who had carried her across the continent to be healed, she was tended by an ape-faced horse-man.
"It's all right. It's all right," Seton soothed. "This is a place of ancient power. It will heal you, if any place can…" Already, the mantis folk had told him she would not live. "The infection has gotten under your skin, that's all. It's just skin deep."
Jeska shook her head in denial and pain, and ferns clutched her thrashing hair. All around her, trees twisted into the sky. Birds and bushbabies and other things stared down from the green fronds and sent forth strange whoops of laughter....
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