"Robin McKinley - Rose Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinley Robin)

тАЬIтАЩm all right now.тАЭ said Beauty.
тАЬNo, youтАЩre not,тАЭ said Jeweltongue. тАЬI can still feel your heart shaking your whole body. Whatever is
your nightmare about? Can you tell us?тАЩтАЩ
Beauty tried to laugh. тАЬIt sounds so silly. IтАЩm walking down a dark corridor, with no doors or
windows anywhere, and thereтАЩs a monster waiting for me at the far end. I canтАЩt see it, but I know itтАЩs
there. ItтАЩsтАФitтАЩs ... I suppose itтАЩs just that I havenтАЩt had it in so long. But it seems soтАФso much stronger
than it used to. I mean ... you always feel like youтАЩre in a nightmare when youтАЩre having it, donтАЩt you? Or
it wouldnтАЩt be a nightmare. But tonight.. .just now, I was there.тАЩтАЩтАЩ
There was a Jittle silence, and then Lionheart sat up as if to climb out of bed but stopped with one
foot touching the floor. тАЬIf Jeweltongue would remove herself so that she is no longer sitting on my
nightgown, I will go brew us some chamomile tea. ItтАЩs good for almost everything; it should be good for
nightmares too. You stay here so we donтАЩt disturb Father. 1тАЩ
After that first time the dream came back often, but Beauty did not wake her sisters again. She grew
accustomedтАФshe forced herself to grow accustomedтАФto the feeling that she was there, that the only
difference between her waking life and her life in the dream was that in the dream she did not know
where she was.
She looked for details in her waking life that she would not be able to match in the dream, in some
hope that such small exact trifles would orient her so firmly to the world of Rose Cottage and
Longchance that the dream would distress her less when she found herself once again in that great dark
not-quite-empty place, but this did not turn out as she wished. If she examined the wood grain in the
walls of Rose Cottage one day, the next night she dreamed of examining the wallpaper in the corridor in
the flickering light of the candles. If she touched the wall in reaction to the uncertainty of what she could
see, or guessed she saw, she felt the slight roughness of the paper itself, the seams where the lengths met,
and the slickness where the paint had been drawn on over the stencil.
She found that her dream had changed in another way. She had begun to pity the monster she
approached.
She feared him no less for this: she did not even know why she felt pity and grew angry with herself
for it. She would rush along the endless shadowy corridor with her head bowed and her amis crossed
across her breast, feeling grief and pity and raging at herself, Why do I feel sorry for a monster who is
going to eat me as soon as seen, like the Minotaur with his maidens? When she woke, she remembered
how, when she was still only a child, she had realised that she did not seek to escape, but to come to the
end of the corridor and get it over withтАФwhatever it was going to be. And she remembered how sick
and dizzy and helpless and wildтАФalmost madтАФthat realisation had made her feel. ItтАЩs only a dream, she
had said to herself then, and she repeated it now, silently, in the peaceful darkness of Rose
Cottage, with the reassuring sound of her sistersтАЩ breathing by her side. ItтАЩs only a dream. But why
do I dream of a terrible monster waiting for me, only for me?
Jeweftongue gained her first commission to make fine shirts, for the family who held the Home Farm.
тАЬShe bought two of my rough shirts for her husband a little while ago and said at the time that the work
was far too good for farm clothes. Oh dear! ItтАЩs just what I want to believe, you see.тАЭ
тАЬHome Farm?тАЭ said Lionheart. тАЬMaybe the squireтАЩll hear of you and order a dozen brocade
waistcoats.тАЭ
тАЬOh, donтАЩt!тАЭ said Jeweltongue. тАЬI want it too badly. The squire has a big family, and they like good
clothing. Mrs Bestcloth has already told me.тАЭ Mrs Bestcloth was the draperтАЩs in Longchance. тАЬShe says
theyтАЩre the only reason Longchance even has a draperтАЩs and that someday one of them will be in when I
am, and sheтАЩll introduce me.тАЭ Jeweltongue buried herself in her task, sitting by the window while daylight
lasted, drawing closer to the fire as dusk fell. Their one lamp lived at her elbow; Lionheart grumbled
about cooking in the dark, but not very loudly. All three sisters resisted the temptation to stroke the good
fabric Jeweltongue was working on and remember the old days.
But Lionheart had begun to grow restless. She had thrown herself into rebuilding the second shed to
be marauder-proof, so they did not have to bring Lydia and the chickens indoors at nightтАФтАЬJust before I