"Dexter-HerdingInstinct" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dexter Colin)

released river was rushing past his house, its water studded with chunks of ice,
spilling down the floodplain as it did with every spring thaw. Mai startled at
the sound -- he gave her a reassuring pat before remembering to forbid her the
bed. Corlinn returned peacefully to his slumbers-- he had built his home on safe
ground, above the water's reach even at this season.

The morning was misty, the air a fog that rose from the warming banks of snow,
the sky above overcast and admitting no visible rays of sun, though letting its
heat through. Corlinn went out early-- with Mai noising eagerly ahead -- to see
whether damage had been done to the riverbanks. The air smelled faintly of skunk
cabbage.

The wraith always appeared in this very early spring, so Corlinn was not
surprised to see the pale figure drifting along the far shore, among the gray
trees. One day she would linger, two at most, always at the wane of the moon,
clutching her bundle to her. Once, he had heard a thin cry come over the water,
which told him much -- a woman and her baby, both dead in childbirth, wandering
until they reached the running water of the river, which no shade could cross.
They must have died at this season, unguessably long ago. The woman unwed, the
babe fatherless, abandoned and condemned to walk for a short time each year,
each spring. Corlinn spared the wraith a touch of pity, but he had no remedy to
offer. If only she could once manage to appear before the ice broke up -- but
always she was too late, often by a week or two, most poignantly by a mere few
hours, as this year.

Mai was questing along the water's edge, harking at the floating ice, sniffing
at rocks turned over by the flood, digging into any soft spots she managed to
find. She began to roll on some small object -- she must have found a dead fish,
swept along and cast ashore. It would be too fresh and too cold to have ripened
fully enough to suit her, but Mai persisted. Corlinn sighed, and wondered if he
could get himself indoors without her noticing, bar the portal so she'd have to
remain out in the air a while. Or would she only find more dirt? Had frozen mud
begun to thaw?

Halfway to his doorstep, he paused to see whether she was noticing him. Mai was
not -- she was by the water, on her feet, staring across at the far side.
Doubtless she regretted those woodlands now beyond her reach -- or would she
attempt swimming across? Corlinn hoped she would not--the water still carried a
freight of ice, and she would take herself into a danger he could not save her
from. Perhaps he should call her to him --

She was watching the wraith, Corlinn realized with a start. He had no notion
just what she saw, but her attention was directed rather obviously. She stalked
stiff-legged toward the water, her gaze never shifting.

Reaching the cold water, the dog did not halt, but began to trot back and forth,
anxiously. Still, she looked across the stream, into the bare woodland. Once she
looked back over her shoulder at Corlinn, her blue eyes startling even at a fair
distance. He waved to her, and called her name, but Mai stayed by the riverside.