"Dan Parkinson - Dragonlance Tales 3 - Love and War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Parkinson Dan)

Petal then slipped off her gown and stepped into the water.
She waded toward the center of the pond, pressing past
some lily pads. The water rose steadily up her slender legs,
reaching her narrow waist, and continued to rise as she went
forward.
Aron was confused as to what was happening. But
when he saw his daughter in the pond up to her delicate
neck, her fair hair floating behind her, he burst from his
hiding place.
It was too late. Petal's head dipped below the surface,
her hair floating momentarily, then it, too, vanished below.
"Petal! What are you doing?" cried Aron. "Petal!" He ran
back and forth along the shore as he squinted and tried to
peer into the inky water. But he saw only the round, white
moon above and his own dark silhouette gazing up at him.
Finally, he jumped in.
The water was cold and black, and he couldn't see a
thing. He came up for air, then dove even deeper, grabbing
blindly at the water, ripping at lily pad stems and smacking
a few startled fish. But after becoming so tired that he
nearly drowned, Aron finally pulled himself onto the bank
and collapsed. There he slept, his legs and arms twitching as
if he were still diving, until he was awakened by the
morning sun and the warbling of birds.
Convinced that his daughter had drowned, Aron mulled
over the idea of taking his own life as he returned to his
cottage. But, lo and behold, who did he find there, once
more curled up in her bed as if nothing had happened, but
Petal!
Aron shook his head. He was almost ready to believe
he had dreamed the whole adventure, except that, once
more, he saw puddles on the floor leading to his daughter's
bed.
Though he was overjoyed, Aron was also furious. He
was about to shake his daughter awake and demand an
explanation when he decided, No, let her confess to me on
her own. It would be better that way.
But confess what exactly? That she had gone for a
midnight swim? Surely that's all there was to it. Surely there
was nothing - no one - in the pond waiting for her.
Still, in the Forest of Wayreth, you never know.
So all that day, Aron waited for his daughter to tell him
what happened. From his loom he kept eyeing her, but all
she did was go happily about her duties.
Fine! thought Aron in frustration. Let her think she's
fooled the old man! I will just have to catch her in the act!
For the rest of the day, Aron played the innocent, too.
He smiled at his daughter, engaged her in polite
conversation during lunch and dinner, and generally acted
as if nothing were on his mind - except that, while at his