"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Dragon Weather" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

black-tinged sweat from his forehead with his
sleeve, then turned away from the distant smoke of
Manfort and started back down the jagged side of
the black rock.
 Later, after everyone had eaten, as his parents
headed for the fields, Grandsir beckoned to Arlian.
тАЬSummer canтАЩt last much longer,тАЭ he said, тАЬand
we havenтАЩt put aside as much for the winter as
usual. I want to take a look in the cellars, see what
we have and what we need. Come along and give me
a hand, would you, Ari?тАЭ
Arlian smiled and came willingly; the cellars were
usually cool, and any respite from the muggy heat
would be welcome. He was not permitted in the
cellars without adult supervision; there were too
many ways for an active lad to do damage, down
there in the cool darkness.
тАЬBring a candle,тАЭ Grandsir said, gesturing toward
the drawer.
Arlian rummaged through the drawer until he
found a good thick candle stub as long as his finger;
he lit it with a splint from the kitchen fire, which
was kept burning even on days as swelteringly
uncomfortable as this.
The candle flared up, and even in the
well-ventilated kitchen with its wide-open doors
and windows the little flame seemed to brighten the
room; the day was darker than Arlian had realized,
and seemed to be darkening as he watched.
He took a final glance out the window at the
black clouds, then followed his grandfather, trotting
through the long narrow pantry, past the tiered
shelves to the door at the back.
The rush of air from the cellars when Grandsir
opened the door was disappointing, nowhere near
as cool as Arlian had expectedтАФapparently the heat
had even penetrated into the stone-lined depths
beneath the house. Still, it was cooler than
anywhere else he might go.
The old man went down the ladder first while
Arlian held the candle high; when he reached the
bottom the boy handed the light down, then turned
and made his own way down the sagging wooden
rungs. The rails were slick in his hands, polished to
a silky sheen by generations of hands sliding down
them, and he had to watch his step closely.
When he stepped off the final rung the stone floor
felt warm beneath his bare feet; he glanced down in
surprise.
тАЬThe mountain is hot,тАЭ Grandsir said. тАЬI wouldnтАЩt