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

she called from her cushion by the table, but Megan could hear
tears in it. Beside her, Megan's aunt Marte put down her kahfe
cup with a click. Mama cries sometimes when Aunt comes,
Megan thought. When Papa put her down and went to greet his
sister, Megan hid in her bed.
 She crawled in under the feather tick and pillow, all her own.
Her mama had traded at the Big Market for the feathers and
sewed the patchwork cover with pieces of Papa's old green coat
and bits of felt from her worn-out boots. The tick wasn't like her
parents' that had a red cover all of a piece and two pillows each
as big as Megan. Some mornings when Mama opened the carved
doors of the bed, Megan would run across the cold floor and
climb into the wallbed with them. She wasn't a baby any longer,
needing her parents to keep her warm, and had a bed all her
own, but she liked those mornings.

It smelled wonderfully of cedar in the dark, but she poked her
head out since it was getting too hot and her braids were coming
undone. Then she moved to the top of her tick, hugging her
stuffed bear Brunsc, listening to the adults' voices and the click
of Ness's good cups. They sat on the cushions by the brazier,
drinking kahfe, though Megan didn't understand why her
mother would serve it; kahfe was only for special company.

"Lixand, you have your position to consider," Aunt Marte
said. "As next in line for the Guildmastership, you should at least
live in a more prosperous neighborhood. Somewhere in the First
Quarter, where you can associate with people of your own
station, people ofтАФquality." She always looked sideways at
Mama when she said things like that.

"We like it here," Lixand said quietly.

Megan peeked over the edge of the trunk for a second before
ducking down again. Like Lixand, Marte had dark brown hair
and very fair skin that burned easily. Next to her husband, Ness
was tiny with raven black hair and slanted eyes almost dark
enough to be called black. Megan tended to favor her mother
which, for some reason Megan couldn't understand, angered
Marte. Aunt wrinkled her nose as if there were a foul odor in the
room, and Megan pretended that Brunsc had teeth and could
bite her.

"Of course, I understand your tastes, brother," Marte said and
smiled, but she kept looking at Ness. "Never quite refined
enough."
 "Marta Mikhailashkya, my tastes are none of your business."
Megan remembered one time when he'd almost hit her; she was
kin so he restrained himself. He was starting to sound that angry
again.