"Jo Walton - On the Wall" - читать интересную книгу автора (Walton Jo)

The child would come and peer into my depths sometimes, but usually one of the
parents would push her away. Her name was Bluebell.
I always heard her name spoken with an irritation they never used on me.
When she was a little older they would sometimes command me to display some
sight she would enjoyтАФanimals playing, farmers cutting corn, dwarves cutting
diamonds out of rock, the waves washing the shoreтАФand she would sit for hours,
entranced, while they worked.
A little later again, she would command me herself, in much broader terms
than her parents. тАЬMirror, Mirror, show me the nicest flower!тАЭ I had been built to tell
the truth, and indeed could do nothing else, so I would find her some perfect wild
rose half-hidden under a hawthorn tree. тАЬIt was a daffodil before,тАЭ sheтАЩd complain,
and so it had been. She could not really understand my explanations, but I tried to
say that the daffodil was long dead and now the rose was best. She cried. Her
mother slapped her. Bluebell was a headstrong girl, and there was no wonder, with
all this, that she grew up jealous of me and hungry for love and attention. I felt sorry
for her. I suppose in a way I loved her. She was her parentsтАЩ victim as much as I
was. Even when she screamed in rage and threatened to break me I felt nothing but
pity.
The old woman taught the girl to cook and brew up the potions she used in
magic, but she did not teach her any spells. The old man almost ignored her; he was
getting older and spent almost all the time he was awake trying to get me to show
him the future.
Then, one day, the herald came. In all the time from when I was made until
then, when Bluebell was sixteen, nobody had entered the house but the old couple,
the girl, and the occasional pedlars who came to all the forest houses. I thought at
first, seeing this man ride up, that he was a pedlar. Pedlars dressed in bright colours
and wore their packs on their backs, ready to take off and unfold to display their
goods. I always liked seeing the shining pans and bright ribbons and combs they
showed, even though the old woman never bought any. But this man was no pedlar.
He was dressed all in red and gold, and he had only a small pack, such as anyone
might carry their own provisions in. He held a long scroll in his hand, and when the
old woman opened the door he unrolled the scroll and read from it.
тАЬHear ye all my people of the forest!тАЭ began the herald. тАЬThis is a
Proclamation from King Carodan in Brynmaeg Castle. My queen has died, and, there
being no other foreign Princess that pleases me, I desire to take a bride from among
my own people to be a comfort to me and a mother to my baby daughter,
Snowdrop. Therefore I send out heralds to all corners of My Kingdom to inquire of
all girls desirous of being viewed to come to Brynmaeg for the Grand Selection Ball
which will take place on the day of the Autumn Moon. Girls must be between the
ages of sixteen and twenty, subjects of my kingdom and previously unmarried.тАЭ The
herald said all this on one breath, as if he had said it many times before (doubtless he
had), then rolled the scroll up again.
тАЬBe off, varlet!тАЭ said the old woman in a commanding tone. тАЬThat has nothing
to do with us!тАЭ
тАЬOnly doing my job,тАЭ mumbled the herald, in quite another tone of voice.
тАЬMy instructions are to go to all the forest houses, all of them, mind you, missing
none, and read that proclamation. YouтАЩve heard it now, and it didnтАЩt cost you
anything. IтАЩm going, IтАЩm going!тАЭ
Just then Bluebell jumped up from where she had been weeding beside the
cottage. тАЬI want to go to the Ball!тАЭ she said. тАЬOh Mother, please! IтАЩm sixteen, and