"Esther M. Friesner - Why I want to come to Brewer College" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

the early seventeenth century.
My formative decades were unremarkable, filled with the usual round of
seasons, festivals, and opportunities for luring unwary travelers and
livestock into the river so that I might pull them beneath the waters and
drain them of blood at my leisure. Blood was not my only means of sustenance.
Like most of my clan, I developed a taste for wild cucumbers. Wise men who
sought passage across my river always came prepared with an offering of these
succulent vegetables wherewith to purchase my indulgence and a safe conduct.
(Indeed, in my native land men call us by the same word which they apply to
the cucumber, namely kappa.) So the years flowed on.
One morning, in the season when the cherry blossoms flower, there came to the
banks of my river a maiden of remarkable beauty. At first sight of her
loveliness I was enraptured, so much so that I would call this incident the
first life-changing episode of my days. The stunning effect her presence had
on me was redoubled by the fact that while her fine complexion and elegant
garb implied aristocratic birth, she came alone to cross my river. There was a
little wooden footbridge at that particular ford, as sturdy as I could build
it, to tempt travelers, and as low as I could build it, to make it all the
easier for me to surge out of the water and sieze them.
It was not the custom for highborn maidens to travel unescorted, with or
without the availability of sturdy footbridges. Thus her arrival caused me
grave wonder. If my kindred have one overwhelming fault, it is curiosity.
Rather than bide beneath the surface, I emerged at once and revealed myself to
the maiden. More, I left the sanctuary of my river and came out onto the dry
land in order to accost her. To my surprise, she did not recoil in horror or
dismay, merely regarded me with a level, confident gaze. Then she bowed.
Now to bow to a kappa is a ruse so ancient and common that all of us are well
aware of it, save only the newest hatchlings. A person who makes such
reverence to a kappa does not do so out of courtesy, but to beguile us into
returning the obeisance, for when we bow, we perforce spill the water that we
carry in the small depression atop our heads. That done, we are helpless and
in peril of our lives.
I knew this. It was knowledge vouchsafed me by my mother with my first
mouthful of oxblood. But love fills the world with fools, and I was so
besotted by the maiden's dazzling beauty that...I bowed back.
How can I describe what followed? The water obeyed the Law of Gravity, and I
followed suit soon after, falling nigh- lifeless to the ground. (Noble Sirs, I
would have to drain you of more than half of your own precious bodily fluids
for you to comprehend fully what I endured when my water spilled. I will
perform this service for you, if you like, provided that it will not adversely
impact my chances for admission. Brewer College is justly famed for its rigid
refusal to look too far beyond a poor showing on the SATs, and I admit that
algebra is not my friend.)
As I lay there, gazing up into the branches of the ancient pine tree that
overhung my river, I awaited the death blow, for surely the maiden would
destroy me now that I was helpless at her feet. To my surprise, this did not
happen. Rather I felt myself being lifted up tenderly and submersed once more
in the healing river. Full awareness returned and I leapt up to confront the
merciful one who was both my doom and my salvation.
"Lady, why have you spared me when you might have so easily compassed my