Иногда я занимаюсь вот такой вот ерундой :)

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Thoughtfully, Hiver started to draw patterns on the iced window. The ice melted from the warmth of her finger. A line… another one… and one more… A strange creature, a dragonfly-like chimera, unfolded its wings with a silent squeak and prepared to fly up from the glass, but Hiver suddenly recollected herself and began to erase the drawing, not paying attention to the reluctant cry of the deus. That was really too much! If Jenna or one of the guests saw what she had done, a week of dishwashing might have been guaranteed for her. “Get away!” she whispered. “Faster!” Finally, the living picture disappeared, and there was now a gap as big as Hiver’s palm in the frosting on the window. The snowstorm huffed and puffed outside. Neither neighbouring houses, nor the street itself could be seen. Even the lighthouse’s glow was barely visible among the snow-flurry.

And it was lower than usual…

“It’s moving!”

Hiver knocked her stool over with a rumble. All the glances turned towards her.

“It’s moving, Jenna! There’s a wingship in the sky!”

A silence fell over the room. Suddenly Hiver’s thoughts became a real mess – she was not anymore sure that she had really seen a flying wingship, struggling with the snowstorm. A light? Might as well be a delusion, one of the show faes’ tricks, and nothing more… But still there was a brief vision of a wood-and-steel dragonfly, golden-eyed, helplessly brave, squeezed by a huge hand with long fingers and curved nails. Soon it will be all over for her.

Jenna came to the window, put the stool back to its place and looked outside. It was unexpected for Hiver that she saw the wingship immediately and said with a fretful face:

“I can’t believe it! He’s late with the red signal again…”

“What happened, good mistress?” asked Sturdy. “Who’s late?”

“The lighthouse warden,” said Jenna. “He’s really old and troublesome. He didn’t – well, probably, he couldn’t – change the colour of the signal, and a little wingship had been caught by the snowstorm. Too bad! I don’t know if there’s someone at the landing field tonight. Damn this weather…”

“If he falls, he’ll need some help,” said Sturdy. “I’ll go meet him there.”

Looking very decisive, he headed off for the door, but was suddenly stopped.

“Do not hurry, my dear friend!” said the old man. “Did you forget what is happening outside? I dare to remind you that a snowstorm is on the loose.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” asked Sturdy with an unfriendly tone. “To sit and wait until it will be too late?”

He turned to the door once again, not willing to listen to the old man’s words anymore.

“Well, it seems like you really want to get frostbite,” said the old man ironically and waved his hand. Sturdy stopped, as if thunder-struck, and fell on the floor like a sack of gravel. There was a slip of paper on his broad back, with an intricate sign drawn with a black ink – a seal.

“He’s a sealer!” somebody whispered, and the old man smiled.

“Do not be confused by my humble appearance,” he said. “My name is Arno, and I am a sealer. I can show you my papers with the Guild’s stamp, if you wish, they are upstairs. But this can wait. Now we need to help the poor one out there! Who’s with me?”

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Кто читал, тот помнит, что там дальше было.