"Doranna Durgin - Wolverine's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Durgin Doranna)

to have second thoughts about gifting it to Rika, but she supposed if anyone could handle the beast, it
would be Auntie Rika. Rika, nobody's relative yet everybody's aunt. She had midwifed Kelyn, treated
Lytha's illness, and provided everyone in the area with charms and wards for years beyond memory,
although she only rarely dealt in curses.

Her attention on the horse, Kelyn stumbled over something in the rough path and nearly fell, losing her
satchel and staff in the process. At least neither had fallen into any of the numerous muddy patches
around her. The path wound along the hillsides, over rocky outcrops and through thin patches of lower
Ketura's stunted little hardwoods and stocky pines; the track was never any good at this time of year,
and yesterday's sleety rain hadn't helped any. Kelyn scooped the satchel up without pausing, and the
horse chose that moment to stop short, snorting suspiciously and almost jerking Kelyn's arm out of its
socket.

Kelyn closed her eyes and gathered the shredded remnants of her temper around her. When she opened
them, it was to glare at the horse. "You could be drying in someone's smokehouse right now," she told it
in a dangerously quiet voice. "It could still happen."

"Now, now, child," came a voice from the small stand of trees ahead of her. Kelyn started, even though
she'd already recognized Rika's warm, creaky voice. And she berated herself for being taken by surprise,
even though no one ever saw Rika before Rika was ready to be seen.

"Aunt," Kelyn said. "I was coming to see you." She hesitated, then blurted out all at once, "IтАФthis
horseтАФLytha's deadтАФ"

"Yes, I know," Rika said, her voice tinged with sadness. She stepped out of the trees, an elderly woman
barely bowed, like a fine straight piece of wood made only stronger with age. Her hair was long and
wild, and often looked about to spring free from the thong that held it. But her impossibly wrinkled skin,
as usual, nearly masked her expression. She murmured again, "I know."

Kelyn thought about asking just which of those things the old woman had known, and thought better of
it. "I brought you this horse. I thought you might be able to do something with it. If not," she said, and
shrugged, "you can always fatten it up over the summer."

Rika held her hand out. "You've had a long day, I see. Give me the horse, and we'll go sup together."

Kelyn hesitated, thinking how much harder it would be for the old woman to lead this fractious creature
along the muddy path. Then again, she'd never seen Rika trip over her own feet. She handed over the
reins.

"There, there," Rika murmured to the horse. "Wouldn't you like to be in a nice little shed, with plenty of
hay for your supper?"

Rema's Blessing, the creature's ears perked forward and then actuallydrooped in contentment! Kelyn
kept her disgruntled noises to herself, and wondered again that if Rika could accomplish such things,
surely it wouldn't be too much to ask for a little charm against clumsiness. . . .

She followed the now-placid horse to its new home, keeping a cautious distance from its heels all the
same.

Rika put the horse in the tiny outbuilding that held her goat and had Kelyn carry its gear into her