"Nancy Springer - Chains Of Gold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

corners, descending stairways when I found them, often forced to flee from shadows or footfalls. The
carved snakes lurked everywhere, as was fitting in a place sacred to the goddess. I saw them on walls,
on doorjambs and lintels, even coiled on the floor. Always I watched them narrowly as I passed, thinking
uneasily that if a carved wooden swan had come to life, so might one of theseтАФor perhaps there were
real serpents about as well. Soon I felt other reason for unease. The hold of the goddess seemed huge,
labyrinthine, far larger than it should have been, could have been, on that river isle. Sorcery, I grew
certain. No wonder the Gwyneda had felt no need to guard me, had left me in bed like a child put out of
mind for the night.

Silently I vowed that I would find my way out, even though I was likely to the in the freezing
coldтАФalready I was freezing within the walls, my feet completely numb. And there would be the icy
water to brave, for I had no way to cross the river. None of it mattered. I had to get out.

Call on him, that youth had said, that Lonn. What nonsense. How was I to call on him?

Remembering his warm glance, his candid gaze, I felt re solve suddenly melt into despairтАФthe mere
thought of help had undone me. My eyes blinked shut against tears. тАЬLonn,тАЭ I murmured to myself,
тАЬLonn,тАЭ and I continued to walk, blindly, very tired, not much caring any more what happened to me,
whether I blundered into white-robes or fell down a stone spiral stairway or met with a genuine serpent. I
no longer so much as listened for danger. тАЬLonn,тАЭ I whispered.

Wind and snow on my face.

Astonished, I opened my eyes, saw a white blur of a night. I was out, unbeknownst. Snow hissed and
seethed in the wind, curling against my ankles; I stood in snow and had not even felt it with my frozen
feet. Nor could I remember passing any gate or entry. But I felt the wind plainly enough, and the stinging
cold, biting through my blanket as if it were spider-web. I jerked myself out of astonishment and ran.

тАЬLonn,тАЭ I whispered between panting breaths, тАЬguide me again.тАЭ

I could see somewhat, for even on the darkest night there is always a dim glow outdoorsтАФghostlight,
folk called it. Faint spirit fire lit the white smother of snow, and ahead of me a dark building loomedтАФa
boathouse, I hoped. I had run half the length of the isle, and water had to lie near, though I could not hear
the rush of it above the wind. But would a swan boat obey me? Perhaps if I yet again invoked the name
of LonnтАж

Whispering to Lonn, I found the door and slipped within, then stood hearkening in utter blackness as the
wind howled and shrieked outside. This place was warm, blessedly so, and I sensed stirrings, and I
smelledтАФhorses? A stable?

But what could be the use of horses to me? To anyone, on this isle?

There was no bridge to the shore, I knew. But in a more unreasoning way I knew that I had been led to
these horses. It would have been shameful to scorn such a gift, even though I had never sat on a horse in
my lifeтАФriding was not permitted, lest I harm my maidenhead. But I had seen men riding away often
enough, and suddenly I felt a fierce desire to do the same. I stepped forward, feeling at the darkness,
searching for a bridle or halter, finding only the rough wooden partition of a stallтАФ

A footfall sounded somewhere nearby. Panicked, I flung myself into the stall, banging against the hocks
of an unseen horse. The creature gave a startled jump but moved to one side without kicking me, and I