"Evans,.Linda.-.Sleipnir" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Linda)

once admittedЧsomewhat shamefacedlyЧthat he couldn't say no
to anything his grandmother asked, because he was all the old lady
had left to live for.

Our train ride was short, and soon we were back at the little village
near the missile site, headed into the surrounding forest. Within
minutes, streets and houses were out of sight. It was hard to
believe, sometimes, that you couldn't get farther than a couple of
kilometers from civilization anywhere in Germany. The forests were
so dark and forbidding, you could almost convince yourself you
were living a thousand years in the pastЧthen a group of school
kids would come trooping by, waving and shouting and playing
radios or something. . . .

"Uh, Gary?" I was careful to keep my voice low-pitched. That
wasn't reverence for the forest; just ingrained caution and leftover
paranoia. One couldn't always count on hedgehogs. I hadn't told
Gary any details about my oath, and hadn't planned toЧbut the
towering silence of the trees left me looking over my shoulder for .
. . something. I didn't know quite what. Abruptly I wanted to share
my thoughts.

"Yeah?" He glanced back.

"Anything strike you as, well, strange about that hedgehog the
other night?"

Gary turned to look at me over his shoulder. "Like what?"

"Like why it didn't just roll up into a ball under the pine tree? It was
close enough to me, it must've heard my heart beating, never mind
smelled me, and you know how shy they are about people."

"You weren't moving, Randy."

"No, but . . ."

Gary glanced back again, one brow cocked quizzically.

"Okay, I'd barely taken that oath when out he strolls, maybe saving
our collective bacon."

He stopped walking. "So you wonder if Odin heard you?"

I grimaced, falling silent again, and Gary nodded silently, as if to
himself. We kept walking. It was stupid, and I was probably just as
superstitious as BrunowskiЧwho at least was honest enough to
admit itЧbut I couldn't help wondering, at least a little. Kind of nifty
to think of a genuine god answering my oath . . . but then again,
maybe not. What might a god consider a "marker"? And what