"Terry Pratchett. A Hat Full Of Sky " - читать интересную книгу автора

high over the chalk downs. And they watched her, to help and protect her,
whether she wanted them to or not. Tiffany had been as polite as possible
about this. Shed hidden her diary right at the back of a drawer and blocked
up the cracks in the privy with wadded paper, and done her best with the
gaps in her bedroom floorboards, too. They were little men, after all. She
was sure they tried to remain unseen so as not to disturb her, but shed got
very good at spotting them.
They granted wishes - not the magical fairytale three wishes, the ones
that always go wrong in the end, but ordinary, everyday ones. The Nac Mac
Feegle were immensely strong and fearless and incredibly fast, but they
werent good at understanding that what people said often wasnt what they
meant. One day, in the dairy, Tiffany had said, I wish I had a sharper knife
to cut this cheese, and her mothers sharpest knife was quivering in the
table beside her almost before shed got the words out.
1 wish this rain would clear up was probably OK, because the Feegles
couldnt do actual magic, but she had learned to be careful not to wish for
anything that might be achievable by some small, determined, strong,
fearless and fast men who were also not above giving someone a good kicking
if they felt like it.
Wishes needed thought. She was never likely to say, out loud, I wish
that I could marry a handsome prince, but knowing that if you did youd
probably open the door to find a stunned prince, a tied-up priest and a Nac
Mac Feegle grinning cheerfully and ready to act as Best Man definitely made
you watch what you said. But they could be helpful, in a haphazard way, and
shed taken to leaving out for them things that the family didnt need but
might be useful to little people, like tiny mustard spoons, pins, a soup
bowl that would make a nice bath for a Feegle and, in case they didnt get
the message, some soap. They didnt steal the soap.
Her last visit to the ancient burial mound high on the chalk down where
the pictsies lived had been to attend the wedding of Rob Anybody, the Big
Man of the clan, to Jeannie of the Long Lake. She was going to be the new
kelda and spend most of the rest of her life in the mound, having babies
like a queen bee.
Feegles from other clans had all turned up for the celebration, because
if theres one thing a Feegle likes more than a party, its a bigger party,
and if theres anything better than a bigger party, its a bigger party with
someone else paying for the drink. To be honest, Tiffany had felt a bit out
of place, being ten times as tall as the next tallest person there, but shed
been treated very well and Rob Anybody had made a long speech about her,
calling her our fine big wee young hag before falling face first into the
pudding. It had all been very hot, and very loud, but shed joined in the
cheer when Jeannie had carried Rob Anybody over a tiny broomstick that had
been laid on the floor. Traditionally, both the bride and the groom should
jump over the broomstick but, equally traditionally, no self-respecting
Feegle would be sober on his wedding day.
Shed been warned that it would be a good idea to leave then, because of
the traditional fight between the brides clan and the grooms clan, which
could take until Friday.
Tiffany had bowed to Jeannie, because thats what hags did, and had a
good look at her. She was small and sweet and very pretty. She also had a