Игра престолов

Arya

           Thedoorresistedamoment,beforeitslowlybegantoswinginward,withacreaksoloudAryawascertainitcouldbeheardallthroughthecity.Sheopenedthedoorjustfarenoughtoslipthrough,intothehallwaybeyond.

           Iftheroomwiththemonstershadbeendark,thehallwastheblackestpitinthesevenhells.Calmasstillwater,Aryatoldherself,butevenwhenshegavehereyesamomenttoadjust,therewasnothingtoseebutthevaguegreyoutlineofthedoorshehadcomethrough.Shewiggledherfingersinfrontofherface,felttheairmove,sawnothing.Shewasblind.Awaterdancerseeswithallhersenses,sheremindedherself.Sheclosedhereyesandsteadiedherbreathingonetwothree,drankinthequiet,reachedoutwithherhands.

           Herfingersbrushedagainstroughunfinishedstonetoherleft.Shefollowedthewall,herhandskimmingalongthesurface,takingsmallglidingstepsthroughthedarkness.Allhallsleadsomewhere.Wherethereisawayin,thereisawayout.Fearcutsdeeperthanswords.Aryawouldnotbeafraid.Itseemedasifshehadbeenwalkingalongwayswhenthewallendedabruptlyandadraftofcoldairblewpasthercheek.Loosehairsstirredfaintlyagainstherskin.

           Fromsomewherefarbelowher,sheheardnoises.Thescrapeofboots,thedistantsoundofvoices.Aflickeringlightbrushedthewalleversofaintly,andshesawthatshestoodatthetopofagreatblackwell,ashafttwentyfeetacrossplungingdeepintotheearth.

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