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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 398/853
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Luwin
slid
a
finger
up
under
his
collar
and
began
to
turn
it
,
inch
by
inch
.
He
had
a
thick
neck
for
a
small
man
,
and
the
chain
was
tight
,
but
a
few
pulls
had
it
all
the
way
around
.
"
This
is
Valyrian
steel
,
"
he
said
when
the
link
of
dark
grey
metal
lay
against
the
apple
of
his
throat
.
"
Only
one
maester
in
a
hundred
wears
such
a
link
.
This
signifies
that
I
have
studied
what
the
Citadel
calls
the
higher
mysteries
—
magic
,
for
want
of
a
better
word
.
A
fascinating
pursuit
,
but
of
small
use
,
which
is
why
so
few
maesters
trouble
themselves
with
it
.
"
"
All
those
who
study
the
higher
mysteries
try
their
own
hand
at
spells
,
soon
or
late
.
I
yielded
to
the
temptation
too
,
I
must
confess
it
.
Well
,
I
was
a
boy
,
and
what
boy
does
not
secretly
wish
to
find
hidden
powers
in
himself
?
I
got
no
more
for
my
efforts
than
a
thousand
boys
before
me
,
and
a
thousand
since
.
Sad
to
say
,
magic
does
not
work
.
"
"
Sometimes
it
does
,
"
Bran
protested
.
"
I
had
that
dream
,
and
Rickon
did
too
.
And
there
are
mages
and
warlocks
in
the
east
.
.
.
"
"
There
are
men
who
call
themselves
mages
and
warlocks
,
"
Maester
Luwin
said
.
"
I
had
a
friend
at
the
Citadel
who
could
pull
a
rose
out
of
your
ear
,
but
he
was
no
more
magical
than
I
was
.
Oh
,
to
be
sure
,
there
is
much
we
do
not
understand
.
The
years
pass
in
their
hundreds
and
their
thousands
,
and
what
does
any
man
see
of
life
but
a
few
summers
,
a
few
winters
?
We
look
at
mountains
and
call
them
eternal
,
and
so
they
seem
.
.
.
but
in
the
course
of
time
,
mountains
rise
and
fall
,
rivers
change
their
courses
,
stars
fall
from
the
sky
,
and
great
cities
sink
beneath
the
sea
.
Even
gods
die
,
we
think
.
Everything
changes
.
"
"
Perhaps
magic
was
once
a
mighty
force
in
the
world
,
but
no
longer
.
What
little
remains
is
no
more
than
the
wisp
of
smoke
that
lingers
in
the
air
after
a
great
fire
has
burned
out
,
and
even
that
is
fading
.
Valyria
was
the
last
ember
,
and
Valyria
is
gone
.
The
dragons
are
no
more
,
the
giants
are
dead
,
the
children
of
the
forest
forgotten
with
all
their
lore
.
"
"
No
,
my
prince
.
Jojen
Reed
may
have
had
a
dream
or
two
that
he
believes
came
true
,
but
he
does
not
have
the
greensight
.
No
living
man
has
that
power
.
"
Bran
said
as
much
to
Meera
Reed
when
she
came
to
him
at
dusk
as
he
sat
in
his
window
seat
watching
the
lights
flicker
to
life
.
"
I
’
m
sorry
for
what
happened
with
the
wolves
.
Summer
shouldn
’
t
have
tried
to
hurt
Jojen
,
but
Jojen
shouldn
’
t
have
said
all
that
about
my
dreams
.
The
crow
lied
when
he
said
I
could
fly
,
and
your
brother
lied
too
.
"
"
Or
perhaps
your
maester
is
wrong
.
"
