"Michael McCollum - Who Will Guard the Guardians" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)

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Fria's evenings were long and restless and sleep was hard to find. Sometimes at night, she would sit by
the fire and stir the coals, staring at the burning brightness until her eyes hurt. Fria's need for sleep had
declined over the years and what little rest she did get was increasingly filled with nightmares. She would
often toss and struggle on her small straw bed until she was covered in cold, clammy perspiration.
Tonight she lay half-asleep on her bed. The long dead faces were just beginning to form as the cold fear
began to build inside. A dull thudding seemed to burst inside her head. She forced herself awake, then
bolted into a sitting position. The sudden movement made her dizzy. Fria sat at the edge of the bed, her
hands pressed tightly to her head. The pounding noise refused to end. The barking of the dogs was
undercut by a muffled voice that floated to her above the din.

Fria found the candle by her bed with trembling hands. She stumbled to the fireplace where a red glow
of dying embers still lingered. She doubled over, touched the candle tip to the embers, and was
rewarded by a pale, yellow flame. The pounding at the door had become more insistent. Her heart
thumped almost as loudly as the noise. She could feel her pulse in her throat as she pulled the door
open. In the faint light, she saw a frail little creature pushing awkwardly at the surrounding dogs.

"Get these animals away from me!" The wraith screamed as it kicked at the dogs.

Fria hesitated. Before she could respond, the figure pushed past her and deposited itself in front of the
fireplace. Fria fought the wind and forced the door closed before turning. The figure removed its wet
cloak, revealing a young girl with wet blond curls, a pale pinched face, and fair coloring. The girl
dropped her cloak in a heap at her feet, turned, and returned Fria's stare. The girl took a step closer,
disbelief on her face, as she lifted her hand to touch Fria's face.

"You're not old at all," she said before emitting a short, sharp bark of a laugh. "Why you aren't even as
old as my mother!"

Fria pulled away and brushed quickly past the girl. She placed the candle on the table and threw a log
on the fire. In seconds, it had burst into yellow flame. She turned to the girl and pointed toward the fire.

"Stand in front of the hearth and remove your clothes."

The girl hesitated, her eyes wide with fear.

"Now!"

The girl walked across the room, past the clutter, moving in concert with the emerald cats' eyes that
stared unblinking from the shadows. "This is where you live?"

Fria ignored the question and watched intently as the girl, her fingers numb with cold, struggled with her
laces.

"What is your name, girl?"

"Amber," the girl said as she halted the struggle with her wet clothes and smiled shyly at Fria. "I've come
a long way. I am cold and hungry. Do you have anything to eat?"