"George R. R. Martin - Ice Dragon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

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The Ice Dragon
by George R. R. Martin
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Adara liked the winter best of all, for when the world grew cold the
ice dragon came.
She was never quite sure whether it was the cold that brought the ice
dragon or the ice dragon that brought the cold. That was the sort of question
that often troubled her brother Geoff, who was two years older than her and
insatiably curious, but Adara did not care about such things. So long as the
cold and the snow and the ice dragon all arrived on schedule, she was happy.
She always knew when they were due because of her birthday. Adara was a
winter child, born during the worst freeze that anyone could remember, even
Old Laura, who lived on the next farm and remembered things that had happened
before anyone else was born. People still talked about that freeze. Adara
often heard them.
They talked about other things as well. They said it was the chill of
that terrible freeze that had killed her mother, stealing in during her long
night of labor past the great fire that Adara's father had built, and creeping
under the layers of blankets that covered the birthing bed. And they said that
the cold had entered Adara in the womb, that her skin had been pale blue and
icy to the touch when she came forth, and that she had never warmed in all the
years since. The winter had touched her, left its mark upon her, and made her
its own.
It was true that Adara was always a child apart. She was a very serious
little girl who seldom cared to play with the others. She was beautiful,
people said, but in a strange, distant sort of way, with her pale skin and
blond hair and wide clear blue eyes. She smiled, but not often. No one had
ever seen her cry. Once when she was five she had stepped upon a nail imbedded
in a board that lay concealed beneath a snowbank, and it had gone clear
through her foot, but Adara had not wept or screamed even then. She had pulled
her foot loose and walked back to the house, leaving a trail of blood in the
snow, and when she had gotten there she had said only, "Father, I hurt
myself." The sulks and tempers and tears of ordinary childhood were not for
her.
Even her family knew that Adara was different. Her father was a huge,
gruff bear of a man who had little use for people in general, but a smile
always broke across his face when Geoff pestered him with questions, and he
was full of hugs and laughter for Teri, Adara's older sister, who was golden
and freckled, and flirted shamelessly with all the local boys. Every so often
he would hug Adara as well, especially when he was drunk, which was frequent
during the long winters. But there would be no smiles then. He would only wrap
his arms around her, and pull her small body tight against him with all his
massive strength, sob deep in his chest, and fat wet tears would run down his
ruddy cheeks. He never hugged her at all during the summers. During the
summers he was too busy.
Everyone was busy during the summers except for Adara. Geoff would work
with his father in the fields and ask endless questions about this and that,