"Shirley Meier & S. M. Stirling - Fifth Millenium 01 - Shadow's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meier Shirley)

Mama-came-to-the-city-you-met-and-fell-in-love-andhadme!"
Megan finished in a rush, glad to get to the best part. Her papa
laughed, all crinkly laugh-lines that she liked better than the
frown ones, then he stood up and swung her around, off the
bench high like a bird, before setting her down and taking her
hand.

"Yes, yes, little bylashka. We had you." Then he poked her
cheek gently with one finger. "Nice to see a smile there, little
solemn face!" They walked all the way around the park, from the
fountain past the path through to Svinina Street where the
Guildhall was. Then Megan let go and ran and ran in big circles,
arms wide, pretending she was a bird, flying high, always staying
in sight and coming back to her papa.
 Someone had made a swing out of an old bell rope and a
board, and her father pushed her so she swung high, laughing.

Then he took her down and said, "We'd better go back or your
mother will wonder what happened to us." He always said that
before they left, every time. She pouted, then tickled him, and he
put her on his shoulders to "keep you out of trouble" and carried
her up the street that way, higher than the world.

She was high enough to see the sun shining in the bits of
broken glass set along the tops of the garden walls. People looked
different enough from this angle that she felt shy about waving
to them, but did anyway; it was neighborly.

Everyone's yard was different within the stone and brick
walls; plots of dirt for vegetables later in the year, grass, covered
flowerbeds or stone and sand gardens. As Papa opened their
wooden gate, they could hear voices inside the house. "Hello,"
Papa called, and stepped inside as Megan ducked her head
under the lintel.

The inside door was still open, along with the shutters around
the top of the house. From the landing, ten steps led down into
the house proper, where the stone floor was covered with bright
carpets. Sitting cushions were scattered here and there. In the
kitchen corner a red-tiled stove sat and a small brazier helped
keep the floor warm. Across from the stairs, the wallbed was
open to air out and the feather tick, pillows and blankets hung
outside to get the winter's mustiness out of them. Near the stairs
stood a wooden chest with Megan's bed tucked in behind it like
a miniature wallbed. The sun shone in through the shutters,
cutting the room in half slantwise from top corner to bottom
opposite, bright and dim light, dust dancing in the breeze from
the outside.

"Lixand, Marte's come to visit." Mama's voice was cheerful as